#sometimes people think they’re ace. and then they realize they weren’t and come out as allo gay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sophiashortcake · 4 years

Note

Hiii! Can I request for Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Oikawa and Osamu? Uh.. like.. they finally realized that they fall in love with their bestfriend.. or if you want to change it, you can! Hehe thank youuu 🙈❤

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

includes miya atsumu, iwaizumi hajime, bokuto koutarou, oikawa tooru, & miya osamu

*·˚ ༘♡ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: miya atsumu x reader, iwaizumi hajime x reader, bokuto koutarou x reader, oikawa tooru x reader, miya osamu x reader (gender neutral!)

*·˚ ༘♡ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thank you for requesting! this was really fun to write! especially osamu’s :)

*·˚ ༘♡ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none, unless you count emotions 🤢🤮

*·˚ ༘♡ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst (if you squint)

— 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

atsumu realizes he’s in love with you when he can put down his pride for you and realize he’s wrong.

you’re always there to put him into place when he’s being especially hotheaded, and he’s willing to listen.

the fact that even osamu can’t call him out yet and you can shows that he values what you think, he values you.

; ·˚ ༘♡ ·˚-; ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ♡* ੈ‧₊˚ -; ₊˚.༄ ༘-

“i can’t believe you sometimes! this is a team, i don’t care if you went to the national youth camp, you can’t just pretend you’re the only player on the court!” you scolded, hands clamped on your hips. the setter just shamefully stared at his shoes, his cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“go apologize to your teammates!” you hissed, pointing towards the team, who was standing off from the side of you two. (who were honestly too terrified to intervene.)

atsumu turned to his fellow teammates, uttering a quick “sorry” through gritted teeth.

“you would think the hair bleach got to his brain sometimes,” you sighed, before walking off to continue your activities as manager.

“i’ve never seen somebody put you in your place like that,” aran commented wide-eyed, “not even osamu can get ya to apologize like that.” osamu hummed in agreement.

“i just listen to y/n,” atsumu shrugged, before walking away to collect his things from the locker room.

bounding away with his hands stuck in his pockets, atsumu thought about your scolding. your words could sear through atsumu’s pride, and smack him upside the head and make his brain rattle. atsumu listens to no one, not his coaches, not even his own brother, but he listens to you.

he listens because he loves you.

— 𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞

iwaizumi realizes he’s in love with you when he doesn’t have to be strong infront of you.

it’s exhausting to constantly be strong, and sometimes it’s too much.

once you see his resolve crumble, you know he’s given you not only his trust, but his love too.

; ·˚ ༘♡ ·˚-; ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ♡* ੈ‧₊˚ -; ₊˚.༄ ༘-

“iwa?” you called, turning your head over to the boy walking alongside you.

“what is it?” he hummed, keeping his icy stare ahead as the two of you walked home.

“are you upset about the game today?”

iwaizumi flinched as his steps grew to a halt. was he that transparent? iwaizumi wore his heart on his sleeve more than he cared to admit.

the game against karasuno left him bitter, how could he call himself an ace? how could he hold his team, his best friend, back? they could’ve made it to nationals had it not been for his plays today. maybe if he had just spiked through a few more of their blocks, or dedicated more time to practicing-

iwaizumi felt your arms wrap around him, bringing him close to you, as you whispered to him, “you did your best today, hajime.”

iwaizumi dropped his forehead to your shoulder as he let you hold him. you felt his body begin to shake, as he let out his frustrations from today flood out. iwaizumi has never cried infront of somebody before, but he was okay to let you be the first.

“i’m proud of you,” you muttered into his hair.

for once, iwaizumi wasn’t scared to be weak infront of someone.

— 𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

he realizes he’s in love with you when he realizes he doesn’t look towards his team when he makes the winning spike, he looks for you.

he doesn't need the validation from his teammates as much as he needs you to look at him with adoring eyes that makes him know he made you proud.

and he’ll always work and play hard just so you can keep looking at him like that.

; ·˚ ༘♡ ·˚-; ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ♡* ੈ‧₊˚ -; ₊˚.༄ ༘-

“great job, bokuto!” his coach bellows, clapping him on the back.

“you did exceptionally well today,” his teacher echoed, nodding along with his coach.

recently, immediately after every practice or game, bokuto would dash to coach’s bench where you and the other managers. he didn’t know why, but it was an instinctive move that he had to come see you and hear what you had to say about him.

“thank you!” he exclaimed, before his eyes fell to you, waiting for your comment.

“you were amazing today, bokuto!” you grinned, handing him his water bottle and towel. “i’m proud of you.”

he couldn’t help the wide smile that erupted on his face when your eyes shone with pride. you patted his chest before going to hand out the rest of the waters and towels.

“you’re like a puppy who’s trying to make their owner proud,” konoha quipped, walking over to bokuto alongside akaashi. “why’s that?”

“i just like seeing y/n happy because of me!”

but deep down, he knew it was because he loved you and the way you looked at him, and he wouldn’t trade that look for the world.

— 𝐨𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐮

oikawa realizes he’s in love with you when you tell him he doesn’t have to be perfect.

no, he doesn’t have to be the perfect setter, captain, or friend. he’s oikawa, and that’s enough.

if you want him the way he is, he’s yours to keep.

; ·˚ ༘♡ ·˚-; ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ♡* ੈ‧₊˚ -; ₊˚.༄ ༘-

“oikawa? are you in here?” you called, pulling open the gym door.

of course he was in here, you could tell from the fluorescent lights shining through the windows, and you could hear the squeaking of shoes on the court floors with the aggressive bounce of volleyballs echoing after.

you were greeted with oikawa panting as he clutched a volleyball, sheened with sweat as balls littered the gym floor. it wasn’t a suprise that he was practicing late again.

“what are you doing here, y/n?” oikawa grinned. you nearly popped a vein at his act to play innocent.

“cut the bullshit, ‘kawa,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, “you know why i’m here.”

“because you’re my loving friend who wants to help me practice some more?”

“no, dumbass! i’m here to take you home before you tear your other knee too!” you scolded, coming up to whack him on the head.

you inspected the dozens of volleyballs scattered across the floor. just how long was he practicing his serves for? it was nearly midnight. you sighed, “you don’t have to practice constantly you know.”

“i know,” he muttered, “i just want my serve to be perfect.”

“you don’t have to be perfect, you just have to be oikawa,” you replied. “that’s more than enough for me.”

oikawa’s grip on the ball loosened as he let his joints relax for the first time that night. it was the first time in a long time that somebody didn’t want oikawa, the setter, or the captain, or the great king, somebody wanted him.

if oikawa was enough for you, maybe it was okay he couldn’t be perfect.

he turned to you, “help me clean up, yeah?”

— 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮

osamu realizes he’s in love with you when he’s cooking for you.

he realizes it when he’s taking account for what your favorite food is, your favorite flavors, your allergies, etc.

he always cooks for people he cares for, and makes sure that they’re always well fed, and you’re no exception to that.

asian grandma move honestly

but he doesn’t even realize it himself actually, atsumu has to be the one to bring it up one night at dinner.

; ·˚ ༘♡ ·˚-; ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ♡* ੈ‧₊˚ -; ₊˚.༄ ༘-

“why’d ya make ebi mayo onigiri? i wanted tuna mayo!” atsumu whined from behind osamu, who was carefully molding the rice into their respective shapes.

“because they’re y/n’s favorite,” osamu hummed, as he folded the nori over the rice.

“oh, is y/n coming for dinner?” atsumu replied, snatching up an onigiri from the plate besides osamu. so much for wanting tuna.

osamu paused, you weren’t. so why was he making your favorite food? why did he go through trouble of buying all the ingredients, preparing, and cooking if you weren’t even there to eat it?

“hey! earth to ‘samu!” atsumu called, his mouth full with rice.

osamu snapped out of his daze. he had zoned out long enough for the rice to start sticking to his skin, “huh?”

“i asked if y/n was coming?”

“no, they aren’t.”

“then why the hell are you making ebi mayo for? god, it’s like yer in love with them or something!” atsumu exclaimed while munching away. he walked out of the kitchen grumbling about his lost tuna mayo onigiri.

oh, so that’s why.

osamu was in love with you.

🏷 (open!) : @stcrryskies

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zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

I ONLY SENT YOU SIMPING AND BRAINROT SCENARIOS TILL NOW SO HERE I COME WITH AN ANGSTY ONE

what if ever since mc came into twisted wonderland they’ve been slowly absorbing magic ? like their body started to adapt themselves to the logic of these worlds and its just accumulate inside of them

so they’re absorbing magic but the problem is they also absorbs the blot and since they don’t have anything to clear it it just stays stagnant .

life goes on grim’s overblot is over , but then mc fainted .

well i mean who wouldn’t be tired after such battle ? multiple persons have been injured so that isn’t really that worrying right ?

well mc isn’t waking up

one day , one week , and still no sign of mc waking up .

everyone is desperate for them to wake up but nothing works . none of the potions crewel and vil worked , sam’s friends on the other side don’t have any solution , and no matter how many dark spells lilia knows it surely doesn’t help him in any ways. heck crowley even put aside his pride and asked help from rsa’s headmaster

but one day they did wake up , but something wrong . their once bright eyes were replaced by lifeless orbs , as if all the light had been sucked from them .

grim has never so guilty in his life but tried to look on the brighter side of things ! he tell them about how ace and deuce are still as stupid as ever , how riddle went off on floyd again or the way epel mocks vil behind his back when his lessons are too harsh !

but even as he looks so happy , he can’t help but feel this immense void in his heart

“hey henchmen ... when are you coming back ?”

they don’t respond when you talk to them , when you touch them , they just stare into the void .

Anon..... oh, anon..... WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO MY HEART ?!?!?! 😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

I can tolerate and soak up that good angst of the boys feeling guilty for something that happened to MC......BUT GRIM?!?!?! MY HEART, DID YOU HEAR IT SHATTER?!?!?! 😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

THIS IS ANGST SO MUCH ANGST

[Anon's explanation about MC's state]

-- -- --

MC is like doll now, only breathing and staring into the void. Sometimes, they follow a request or order given by someone.

Heartslabyul's tea parties aren't as merry as they used to be. MC just sits there, staring at their cup, occasionally taking sips when Riddle suggests them to try the warm drink. Ace and Deuce can't even crack a smile in the Prefect's presence, not when they're a hollow husk of their sassy self. Cater and Trey feel uncomfortable crossing stares with MC, they rarely look up from their cup or slice of tart. Deuce, more often than not, finds himself crying at night after the parties

Riddle is trying his best every night, searching through his mother's old books back home for a possible remedy... The pages are wrinkled from the many tears he's shed while reading, heart aching for their friend.

Ruggie feels his chores heavier than ever. It's because MC is no longer coming to lend a hand as they used to. The bags under his eyes became more prominent with how late he stays up, looking up at the ceiling as he keeps mourning for MC's lost soul.

Jack is seen more often in his wolf form, howling at the moon... Anything to shed his tears and scream his sorrow out in a less noticeable way. He often struts over to MC while they're sitting outside Ramshackle, and pushes his furry head into their lap and hands, wishing HOPING to one day feel their delicate hands pet him again.

Everyone can see how Leona secludes himself to his room, people have begun comparing him to Idia.... But, unlike what they think, he's not sleeping. On the contrary, he's staying awake, tearing through many books from his homeland about occult magic and resurrection. After all, only someone with enough money would be able to buy such forbidden knowledge.

He won't let his herbivore live on like this, not if his country knows a way to bring them back.

Azul could feel himself thread the edge of insanity. Would it kill him to go through a second overblot? ....would that be better than living on without MC's company?

He will search far and wide through all of Wonderland's oceans and lakes, lagoons and swamps, for a Unique Magic holder than can revert back the blot... or time.... He will give his everything away in a contract to have such magic as his

Jade and Floyd can see the deep cracks in Azul, he's turning into an unfit leader.... It would be best for them to take his role

But they don't want to, for their hearts are cracked like his

Floyd is easier to go on rampages, and Jade is so indifferent to the word outside of his hobbies. If it weren't for their collective love for MC, Floyd would have tried hurting them to see if that wakes MC up.

They never felt so empty and unamused

Kalim's heart physical aches whenever he sees Grim and MC. He's tried, tried all he could

Singing, dancing, playing music, throwing million parties, hugging them, whispering how much he loves them right on their ear... but nothing

He may not be the smartest, but the white haired boy is perseverant and eager to learn: he spends his days in the alchemy room along with Vil and Crewel, researching the poison that is a magician's blot

Jamil never felt so useless, mind clouded with many "if only" scenarios that make him blame himself for MC's situation

If only he hadn't overblotted, if only he hadn't sent them flying off to the ends of the earth, if only he had noticed the poison clinging to their soul sooner.... If only....

Why didn't he realize the blot developing in their body? It was only natural, after spending so much time in Twisted Wonderland without any buffer for the magical energy on this place

If only he could take their place...

Vil never left the alchemy room or Pomefiore's underground laboratory. He spent every day researching how to revert MC's ailments

He only ever left the labs to go into Ramshackle and help the Prefect prepare for the day. Whenever he got to putting on their makeup, Vil can't help but cry at how hollow and dull they look, when they used to be such a warm and radiant soul

Rook was on the same boat, taking his science club duties more serious than ever. He would search in every single ecosystem for any plant, mushroom, hunt down any animal, organ that was needed for even the slightest help for MC

And Epel.... All he could do was scream and punch his pillow, cursing fate and how sick the world is. What did an innocent, magicless person from another world do to deserve this?!

He will often go sit besides MC and carve apples for them, of their favorite flower, their zodiac sign, their favorite animal, and those carvings they loved most of his

...but the fruits will always rot, just like their once beautiful soul

Idia, who was already barely seen outside, hides deeper in his room

The internet is a place full of information, knowledge... Forbidden knowledge

The shut-in and his little brother are always monitoring EVERY SINGLE portal on the internet, be it on the surface or deep DEEP down in the depths

But what tortures him the most.... Is his very own room This is the place he mad many memories with MC in, every corner of his room echoes with their laughter and gentle voice Like a ghost haunting him from now until forever

Ortho is left to wonder how fickle a human's soul is, their body so fragile But was this really in their fate? Or was it an unexpected outcome not even destiny could foretell?

"I miss you... I want to play more. Wake up soon, [Name][Surname]-san" A strange wavering in his voice was heard, followed by a knot in his throat.

Diasomia dorm is always under a storm cloud, green lightning striking the ground surrounding it

Fae have magic beyond a simple human's comprehension, even more so dark fae There MUST be someone in Valley of Thorns that will heed the Prince's call for aid

"The story of old..." Malleus muttered one night, snapping even the sleep-prone knight into attention. "Calls... for True Love's kiss, after the princess was cursed."

Lilia can feel his heart ache for the young dragon. "These are very different situations, Malleus." Yet the bat utters no words

Sebek understands what his precious Lord is getting to. "I shall ask Grim to leave the door open tomorrow night."

Silver nodded along his fellow guard, "If there is anything we can procure, do not hesitate on asking for it, Malleus-sama"

Vanrouge sighed, "It doesn't hurt to try." "Steady heart, goal clear in mind. Do not waver in your actions, my Prince, hesitation never helps when working with curses."

The disheveled royal finally straightened up, eyes red and puffy from how long he's cried and how little he sleeps. "Sebek, go to Ramshackle. We must try it out... now"

Grim dealt with the worst blow

It unsettled him to live with such a different MC. Even the Ghosts were unsettled and hurting from what happened to their friend.

"But I will keep sleeping on your chest, ye hear?! As long as I keep hearing your heartbeat, I will guide you back with my warmth and my blue flames! Just.... just make sure to follow my path, yes?"

"[Name]... we miss you so much... don't leave yet, not yet, not like this..."

"Follow my flames, like I always followed your light... Please?"

-- -- --

My heart was shattered right as I was all happy and giggly about Disney savvy MC stuff.... B O Y, WAS I NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT

SO NOW YOU COME SUFFER WITH ME

#zask #twisted wonderland #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #pomefiore #ignihyde #diasomnia #angst #sips tears

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deluluass · 3 years

Text

Then, the dam breaks.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; dacryphilia; mild infantilization

Kuroo's not a bad person.

Not even by a long shot. "Bad" is willfully stretching out a leg, hidden like a predator among the bushes; hungry for an unknowing soul who's naively secured with their surroundings and the crack that resounds when face finally meets floor.

Or, murder! Murder is bad, he believes.

No, Kuroo isn't capable of any of those things. He might seem like he has a mean streak about him. What, with his sharp tongue and that incorrigible self-satisfied smirk (according to Yaku) and his words that may or may not sting like a backhanded slap sometimes. But that's all in good humor.

Well-deserved, too, when given to the right asshole. And if he does manage to get under the skin of the wrong person, Kuroo's not above offering an apology.

And he means it. (Occasionally.)

There's no pleasure to be had, if anyone would ask. Because, again , he's not a bad guy. He's sly: he knows that much, though he wouldn't taunt someone into visible pain just for the thrill of it.

There's a method to all this. A purpose. Not a profound one, but a reason all the same.

So he has to admit he's feeling kinda lost figuring out why, of all people, it just really had to be you.

There wasn't much of an option to begin with.

Art clubs had already been full. The other ones, you weren't much interested in. And by the time you realized your homeroom teacher would stop at nothing to remind you that this year was your last chance to do something other than study and prepare for exams, for once— well, it had already been too late to reconsider joining those.

Then a flyer was handed out to you.

"V-volley," the boy trailed off.

Try as you might but you couldn't recognize him. A feat, that, considering his blond mohawk that you could spot among a crowd of thousands.

He seemed like he'd caught a nasty spell that prevented him from meeting anyone's eyes, even as you deliberately searched his face for any sign that he'd explain himself to you. Surely, he must have a lot to say after he'd outright ambushed you from entering the cafeteria.

"You...want me to join?"

You were on the verge of asking for more details, focusing on the black cat (though it didn't look like it) drawn on the center of the curiously damp paper, only to find out that you'd been conversing with an empty hallway.

A soft grumble left you.

"Weird," you concluded, barely a whisper. "Weird, weird, weird ."

You were the volleyball team's manager since then.

"She's not much of a talker."

Lev hunched to his knees again, sounding very much like he's running out of breath.

It should've been Kuroo's cue to gently ( gently) tell him off, that Nekoma's ace would handle a minute of catching a ball with their face with much more tenacity than he does, or that Nekoma's ace shouldn't have to catch the ball with their face in the first place, period.

" Zoning out already, Ace? " he'd planned on jeering, but instead he followed the direction of the overgrown 10 year old's gaze.

Someone was talking to you.

Apologizing , was more like it, if the other student's incessant bowing until his torso fell from his body was any indication. You were outside of the gym, clipboard tucked under an arm, so it was impossible to catch a word you were saying.

Not that you were saying much. Or anything at all. You only nodded. And nodded again. And after what seemed like the world's loudest "I'm so sorry, senpai!",you immediately went back inside to refill the water bottles lined atop the bench.

"Hey," Kenma sighed, the ball in his hand aimed for a toss. "Focus."

And the cycle of Lev being an utter disappointment to the blond setter continued.

Kuroo let out a noncommittal hum, eyes never leaving you, trailing like a lost pup as you handed out water bottles to Nobuyuki and the others.

"Not a talker, huh," he muttered to himself.

How long has it been? Two weeks? Three, maybe? Kuroo could scarcely remember for how many days you'd been showing up to this sweaty pit to perform your duties. On the dot. Always. Without fail.

What he does remember was the first day.

Chin up; head held high. You strutted into their lives as if you were leading an entire militia to battle and had no time to waste.

He teased you for it when you'd already busied yourself with clean up duty a few minutes after your (short) ( extremely concise) introduction.

("Slow down there, general," he told you with a wry chuckle. He expected any reaction from you, really.)

(He just didn't expect you to actually slow down on your cleaning and pick up on the Coach's remaining paperwork right then and there, going through it like a forest fire.)

It would take him a few more days to realize that that's just how you are.

Even when you rejected a tongue-tied Yamamoto when he tried to ask you out. For a meal. With the other boys, of course.

Even when you took a hurtling ball to your leg and lost your footing and had the whole team scrambling for a stretcher, only for you to stand on your good leg, tell everyone "I'm okay," and walk to the nurse's office on your own.

(Kuroo doesn't think he's seen someone limp with so much grace before.)

His throat suddenly felt incredibly dry.

Water . Water was what he needed.

Right.

You didn't see him coming from across the court. You were sitting on the bench and your back was turned, scribbling on that clipboard propped on your lap, yet— like clockwork, your idle hand shot out to give him the last bottle to your left before he could even finish asking for one.

He felt his lips curve as he muttered his thanks around the lid.

"Say," Kuroo began.

You were reading the things you wrote back to yourself.

"Mind telling me what was that about?"

You paused. You blinked up at Kuroo.

The attention hits him like a freight train.

That clear as summer sky gaze, unclouded and bright.

It's nuts how unreal it felt. How can something so elusive be now all on him.

(Just for him.)

"Earlier," he added, licking his lips and feeling silly for the way his chest tightened. "Seemed kinda intense."

"He borrowed my notes," you said. Then back to the clipboard again.

Kuroo made himself comfortable next to you, elbow propped on his knee as he rested his chin against an open palm.

"Got a test coming up?"

"Cram school. He's in the same class."

Of course .

"Of course," Kuroo grinned. "What happened? Heard the guy apologize to you like you were about to kill him."

Laughter bubbled out of his chest. Unfortunately, you didn't seem to find it as funny as he did. Pity.

He sighed.

"Nothing too bad, I hope."

The noise of ballpoint pen scratching against paper halted.

From way at the back, Lev was prattling Kenma's ear off again. Kuroo guessed they were about to leave, walking away from the court, away from the gym and to god knows where. The whole team, too, for that matter.

Everyone seemed to have gone, diminished in that second. He couldn't hear them anymore, didn't bother to see if they're still there.

He was looking at you, after all. Really looking at you. Your grip on the pen was a tad severe, he thought; fingers determined to squeeze the ink out of the barrel.

Your face betrayed nothing. Indeed, anyone could spare you a glance and immediately guess that this is just another empty chat between acquainted individuals, conversation just for the sake of it.

Kuroo wasn't just anyone, though.

Chin up and head held high; as you'd always done. But Kuroo's close enough to see it now, unlike before: the gulps you take in between breaths; the falter in those eyes that only ever looked forward.

Chin up and head held high, but Kuroo sees now that the neck he could easily break with one hand is so tense it's essentially a string pulled too tight that's on the brink of snapping.

Oh.

"Oh," Kuroo whispered.

Oh .

"He lost it didn't he?" Kuroo realized. "Your notes."

And it did snap.

"Just..!" You looked down and bunched your pants in your fist. "No. Of course not. It's nothing," you huffed, putting the ball pen's cap back on.

You were leaving.

Kuroo stood up.

"You look upset, manager-san," he said softly, his larger frame blocking your attempts of escape. "It is bothering you, hm?"

"My notebook got-got ruined, sure," you said. "But juice stains aren't bothering me, Captain ."

There it is. You were meeting his gaze again.

" Too late for that ," Kuroo thought. There's a stutter to your words when there had been none.

Your arms are trembling and you look uncomfortable. He should stop. He knows he should stop , but whatever it is he said is chipping away at that impenetrable wall and he doesn't get what's happening now but damn, damn if that tingle running down his spine doesn't feel so fucking good.

"My bad," he chuckled. "Sorry."

He raised both his arms in a show of defeat.

"I'm- it's fine," you said through gritted teeth. "If you would just— excuse me."

Kuroo shrugged a shoulder.

"Sorry about your notes, still," he said. "Must've been important to you. We all know how much you take your studies very, very seriously."

Kuroo smirked. "You shouldn't have let him have it then."

That made you stop in your tracks.

"What do you mean?" you sought, confusion breaking your voice into what sounds like the smallest it's ever been.

Kuroo felt his breath catch in his throat.

"He needed my help, though," you rushed. "I can't just turn people away."

"Really?" Kuroo sniggered, eyebrows lifting in fascination.

"Could've sworn you were good at it," he said; whispered it so lowly, you couldn't have heard it. But you did.

You heard him, all right. Loud and clear.

Because it was just like watching someone take a bullet to the heart.

First, the disbelief.

Skin, muscles, and ligaments weren't made to be broken like that. A person wasn't created to bleed to death. And when it happens, well, all one can ask is: how could someone hurt me like this?

So you stand before him, immobile, disbelief written in those wide eyes, because how could he hurt me like this?

Then—

Then, the dam breaks.

Kuroo doesn't think that you know it; that you're gaping at him with tears streaming down your face; that you're falling apart and stripping yourself bare the more you try to temper those quivering lips with that cute little nibbling you do.

Kuroo doesn't think you know it, too.

That no one has ever been as beautiful as you are, right in that very moment.

You're not a good person.

Not even by a long shot. "Good" is an open hand, warm and soft and prepared to accept anyone in need of it. It's many things, goodness, but it most certainly isn't a dismissive attitude towards a well-meaning person who only wants to get to know you.

You hadn't gone this far in your uneventful life ignorant of what people say behind your back. "Frigid" is one. "Indifferent" on a good day. "Bitch" when someone feels like being mean.

It's not like you're mad or anything; not as if you'd built up some sort of resentment within you that now you've settled for being perpetually friendless. You have plans, is all. You just can't afford to be a constant helping hand when you've got so much to do.

So you take it.

Be a sport about it, was what you've always been told. Stiff upper lip, as they say. You remain silent about it and you endure and maybe you shed a few tears later as you lie in bed and maybe you entertain the possibility that you'll never see the end of this loneliness.

But that's neither here nor there.

The point is, this time shouldn't have been any different.

(But sometimes even the strongest walls can crumble. All it takes is one crack, then the rest would follow.)

It was a bad day.

You woke up late. You messed up the tally in the first set of practice games. You forgot the homework you'd stayed up all night to do.

And the person whom you've lended your notes to for the college entrance exams lost it.

He lost it. Conveniently just a month before the actual thing.

"I- It's nowhere to be found, senpai," he explained. "I tried looking for it everywhere but- but I.." (You don't remember the rest.)

It's fine, you told yourself. You're fine. You can do something about a little inconvenience like this. You always have.

But then Kuroo Tetsurou asked.

He's an amazing captain; even someone like you who only had a rudimentary knowledge at volleyball could understand the level of skill it requires to do what he does on the court while still managing to reign in the polarizing characters in this team together. And like most people, Kuroo Tetsurou has never cared for you.

That's what you'd always thought, concerning him. Even when there had been times when he'd let slip what he thought about you. ("You're so cold, manager-san," he pouted once after you'd refused to eat with Yamamoto and the others.)

So it blindsided you, to say the least.

The way he looked at you, as if he's privy to your darkest secrets, like he's seen you at your lowest and somehow knows you more than you did.

When he'd jabbed and poked at what you'd only later realize was already a festering wound. (" It is bothering you, hm?" he said.) And before you could think about telling him to stop, to please, please let it go, it had already happened.

(" Could've sworn you were good at it ," he said.)

This isn't news to you. Besides, there have obviously been worse digs.

But hearing it from people who think you're not listening and being told about it to your face are two vastly different things.

(Maybe it's because deep inside you'd always hoped that not everyone disliked you. That even though you're not a good person, you're not entirely bad either.)

Right in front of you, swift and without warning, he spoke only the truth.

You just weren't prepared for how deep it could cut.

"I have to go," you murmured.

It took you a few seconds to realize that you'd been crying. And when you did, you immediately wiped your cheek with the back of your hand, turning away from him and the others still engrossed in their drills.

You let your feet do the thinking, allowing it to take you wherever they wished to go ( not here. not here. anywhere but here ), finding it impossible to do so yourself when your vision is clouded with welling tears.

You moved forward, never once looked back, until you ended up inside the stark darkness of the gym's forgotten neighbor.

The shed has long been abandoned and had nothing but dust, a couple of furniture in disrepair, and the occasional bug to keep it company. It was good enough for you. You didn't need much anyway.

Except for silence.

The breaths that you'd desperately tried to control shook like dried leaves hanging onto frail branches, much like your legs, eventually collapsing at the slightest gust of wind.

All you needed was silence.

Crouched down, the feeling of bones reduced to jelly was a lot more palpable. And despite the pins and needles that you know would eventually appear like a vengeful mistress, you stubbornly pressed your knees closer to your damp face.

Stuttering inhales and short-lived exhales soon enough filled the gnawing emptiness of the shed as you count back to the moment you'd started the day to when your classmate told you that he'd lost your notebook to when you'd been told of how much of a shitty person you are and you wonder how you would've changed your decisions and how could it have gotten to this point how could it go wrong like this what did I do what did I do wrong what went —

"There you are."

You clamped your mouth shut, clenched your teeth so hard to stop their chattering. How useless.

The creaking noise of the door being closed— punctuated by the sound of the latch clicking, rendered that effort futile.

Kuroo Tetsurou locked the door.

"C-can you," you panted. "Can you please leave."

"I need some time alone," you said, every beat of your heart like the ticking clock of a time bomb. "Please."

You waited for him to do as you'd told. Maybe what happened earlier was a mistake, a slip of tongue that hurt more than it should've, and he's here to apologize. Of course. That's it, isn't it? Why else would he be here?

"I- If you want to say something, we can- we can— later."

It was as if the entire world had gone still. He said nothing; neither could you hear any hint of movement. You turned around.

"C-captain..!"

He was right there.

Right in front of you, crouched and staring right back at you. His face a hair's breadth away from yours.

Your legs shot upwards.

"What are you- ah !" You hissed, feeling every cell in your body being incessantly pricked. Finding it impossible to stand on your own, your hands scrambled to get a hold of something, anything, maybe the almost dilapidated table behind you— only to be caught in between large, strong arms.

"Careful, now," he murmured against your neck. His scalding breath like frostbite, chilling you down to your bones until you were numbed from the pain.

He slithered a hand around your waist. With blood thundering to your ears, you bit back a shriek and pushed him away with all your might. But have you forgotten? Despite that indolent swagger of his, you've witnessed how this boy pushes himself to exertion for each match and beyond. What made you think you could win against him?

And when you attempted to open your mouth and yell, he effortlessly covered it with a palm while hauling you towards the table. The thing rocked under your weight. It is amusing, what the fear of falling does to you. One moment you're thrashing your way out; the next, you're holding onto your tormentor for dear life.

"No one's gonna come for you." He shushed you like how one would when placating a rabid animal. "You really believe they would bother? With an attitude like that?"

Down, down, his hand sank to your thigh, kneading the aching flesh until all you could do was mewl out a hoarse, "S-stop. I beg y-you."

Because it's all that's left for you. No one's going to save you. Or maybe someone would. But, who? And would they, really?

(Go on, then. Try. See for yourself.)

"Kuroo-san," you whimpered. " S-stop ."

(Would they even believe you? It's your word against his. Him . Their beloved captain.)

"Tetsurou," he only said, dipping his hand lower, wrapping your freezing legs around him. "Say it."

He's everywhere. Lips tracing your chin, teeth grazing your throat; all the while your weak, pathetic arms stayed on his shoulders, thinking he'd regain his senses because he has to. He has to. He's not a bad person. He wouldn't hurt you, not in that way.

Even when rough palms are already caressing the sides of your breasts and you feel a bulge rutting against your stomach, hot and rock hard and large, his hands grabbing your ass to bring your crotch closer to his—

"Cap- Tetsurou!" You cried, trembling hands back on his chest as you sobbed and pleaded please, please, let me go, I won't say anything, I-I'll keep quiet .

He did stop. But he didn't let you go. (You're a stupid girl if you think he would). Instead, with a forefinger under your chin and a thumb on your lower lip, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze.

And when your murky vision adjusted to the shadows, the heart that wanted to escape from your chest ceased its clamoring, arresting your breath with it.

The afternoon sun peeked through the crevices of the shed's wooden walls. Red-orange light revealed a pair of iris swallowed by blown pupils, only for it to pass and shroud him back into the darkness.

"Say it again," he whispered, deep voice cracking. " Tetsurou . My name."

You tried to speak and protest once again but only a croaked snivel left you, your babbling becoming less coherent when he began planting soft kisses on both tear-streaked cheeks.

"You've been all alone, haven't you? Keeping everything to yourself all this time."

He kissed your forehead and it was so tender you wanted to die.

"My strong, brave girl," he breathed. "I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you. I- I-"

You heard him chuckle as he pressed his forehead to yours, felt it crease on your skin. "I love you."

No. No, no, no . You shook your head and closed your eyes and prayed to anyone who's listening.

"I love you," he repeated, strongly now, as if he only realized it this time around.

And then he kissed you. Just a peck. And then he kissed you again, deepening it to probe a wet tongue into your mouth. And the hand sitting lax on your neck felt like a gun to your temple.

You remained just as you were, like a plaything to do with as he pleased, as you felt calloused fingers creep inside your sweaty shirt.

"Such pretty tits," he grunted as he raised your bra over your breasts to brush your nipples, rolling and pinching and pulling them with his thumbs.

He muffled the noises you made with his own mouth still when he continued fondling you. You soon enough tasted the salt off of his palm when he left your lips to lick and pepper bites on your neck, on the valley and mounds of your breasts, sucking and lapping the stiff peaks until he was satisfied.

You tried counting, one to whatever. And when that did not work, you tried biting your own tongue to rid of the heat you fear would burst in your belly.

All that went to waste when he reached inside your pants.

"Not- not there!" you gasped, breaking your silence and wriggling out of his grasp.

He cooed. "You'll feel good. I promise."

After hooking long fingers over the hem of your panties, he briskly parted the hair and lips underneath to pull the thin cotton over the folds, over the throbbing nub trapped in the middle.

"Your pussy's so wet, sweetheart," he sighed, the tip of his middle finger drawing light circles on your clothed clit.

It was so lewd and dirty and the fact that your panties were soaked with slick was enough to burn you with shame.

"You like it, hm?"

Perhaps you whimpered out a meek "no." You couldn't tell anymore, heaving out while he continued to toy with a sore nipple as he rubbed your slippery cunt, preying on your puffed out, swollen clit.

"Feel what you do to me." He squeezed your wrist and forced your shivering hand on his crotch. "Take out my cock, baby," he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck.

"Tet-Tetsuro…san," you cried. "I can- I can't."

"Yes. Yes, you can ," he said, not halting the ministrations between your legs. "You're a big girl."

As if held by a string, he guided you, wrapped his hand around yours as he— as you stroked him, scorching and thick, up and down, just like that .

"Good girl. My good little girl," he groaned, parting your panties to the side to tease your dripping hole.

You wept harder, the inevitable only a few seconds away from you. A single finger, at first. And when he added a second one, you realized you preferred having a hand on your mouth than his lips on yours.

(Because then you wouldn't have to think of an excuse why you're suddenly swirling and brushing your tongue in time with his.)

For a while there had been nothing but the sound of two wet lips pursing against each other (along with those embarrassing squelching noises).

He treated you as if you were made of porcelain, your plush walls stroked oh so gently as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he ended the kiss and removed your hand from his cock, spit and pre-cum connecting you to him, he still handled you as if you would break at the drop of a hat.

That's why it snuck up on you, what happened, after he brought his mouth to your ear.

"Don't scream," he whispered.

Then, he rammed his fingers in your mouth.

You tasted yourself as he forced you on your back, slamming you down on the dirty table yet still carrying your weight all throughout, never letting go.

The bitter acceptance of it— that what began earlier can only conclude to this , did not prepare you for the feeling when he finally thrust himself into you.

They say it shouldn't hurt at first. If it does then he's doing it wrong.

You hardly know if it's relief or horror that dawns on you when you realize how he stretched you out so easily, despite his size. Because, by all means, this should be wrong. This is wrong.

"Gonna ruin you," he panted. "Gonna ruin you and— fuck put you back together myself."

He grinded his cock inside you deep and slow and when he hit that spot you couldn't control yourself from jackknifing so hard he had to hold you down. He does this mercilessly, pace growing more delirious until you're nothing but a choked and sputtering fool around his fingers.

"I won't ever leave you. I’m here," he cooed, stroking your hair and kissing your face as you bawled and shattered in his embrace. "I’m here ."

"So cry all you want."

#tw noncon #tw non con haikyuu #yandere kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #dark content haikyuu

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

Note

I'm feeling under the weather. Would you write some scenarios of how the GOM boys + Kagami would take care of me to help me feel better???

Awwww! I’m so sorry to hear that!! I hope you feel better ^_^. Hope this helps too! It’s a little long with all the boys. So rest of the GOM + Kagami is under the cut.

Akashi:

Being sick was the worst. Between the body aches & pains, general lethargy, you hadn’t gotten out of bed hardly at all today. You barely had the energy to get up and call school this morning to tell them you weren’t coming. Thankfully, they hadn’t pressed, and wished you a speedy recovery for returning to class on Monday.

That was your wish too.

You didn’t want anyone to know you were sick.

Sleeping most of the day, you were surprised to hear the doorbell much later in the afternoon. This would be the time you would normally just be getting home from school. So, who could possibly expect you to be home right now?

“Akashi-kun…?” You said in surprise. Finding your boyfriend, and his dreamy duel-colored eyes, on the other side of your door.

“Hello darling.” The brilliant red head greeted with a soft smile. As if it was perfectly natural for him to be here. “I heard you were under the weather. So I came to check on you. I also brought a physician to check in on you as well.” You look past Akashi finally to see a nice, older looking gentleman in a white lab coat with a crescent eyed smile.

“Akashi-kun, I already went to the doctor. That’s how I know I’m sick.”

“This doctor is better.” He announced as he saw himself in, with his doctor, and led you over to the couch. “He’s the personal physician for the Akashi family. His credentials are far superior to that of your typical clinic doctor.” You want to say something to him about how it didn’t take ‘superior credentials’ to diagnosis a cold, but Akashi was already positioning you on the couch. He gave you another soft smile before he turned to the doctor with a much cooler look and told him to get to work.

Sure enough, you still have a cold. “Gee, I’m so glad you brought such a brilliant doctor all the way here for me Sei-kun.” You quip sarcastically. Using your familiar nickname now that you were alone.

“Humor me, alright.” He replied. Bringing over the tray of tea he had been busying himself with while the doctor examined you. “I was worried when you didn’t come to school today. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you….” You mutter into your tea cup once he had handed it to you. “I know…you get worried about people you care about being sick, after what happened to your mom. When Kuroko was sick last winter you practically wore a trench in the floor pacing ‘til you knew he was better.” Your fingers run the brim of the tea mug. Soaking up the warmth in your hands as you hold it. “I thought I could get over it before you found out, so you wouldn’t have to be the wiser. I guess that was pretty stupid hn? You always figure everything out.”

Akashi looked at you with a soft expression. Then he leaned in to kiss your warm forehead. “You’re not stupid. Don’t ever say that about yourself.” He told you. “And yes, it’s true. I get worried when people I care about are ill. But more than that I get worried when people don’t tell me things. When my mother was sick, no one told me anything. They said she was fine. Then one day she was just gone. Being in the dark is worse than just knowing the truth. So I must insist that you tell me these things in the future. Ok?”

You smile a little. You can tell he was trying really hard not to make this an order; his orders were absolute after all. But he was trying to make sure that he was kept in the loop in the future. He was worried about you.

You smile a little and snuggle into Akashi’s chest. “Yes kotei-kun.”

Midorama:

Thank God Japan had such strict firearm laws, because if you had a gun right now you’d shot yourself.

Ok, no you wouldn’t. But death would be a sweet blessing over this cold. This 24-hour bug thing hit you hard and hit you fast. Crippling you from a once vibrant human being to a walking corpse in less than a few hours. You sincerely wished that it was only 24 hours.

You hear the doorbell from the kitchen and hope it’s your soup. Too weak to even make your own food, you’d begrudgingly ordered some hot broth in an attempt to eat and keep up your strength.

You open the door to surprisingly find not your soup but Shutoku’s positive point guard standing there. “Takao?”

“Hi [Y/N]-chan!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Shin-chan heard you were sick. So, he wanted to come take care of you.” Holding of a napsack of supplies.

You blink once, looking around to see if you had somehow missed Midorima in your fever fogged mind. “He’s…here?”

“Don’t just stand in the door way and let the cold air in. You’re just going to make your cold worse.”

You blink again and Takao gave an awkward laugh as he scratched the back of his head, before revealing a small green walkie-talkie from his pocket. “He didn’t want to get sick himself.”

A grumble of irritation left your lips. “So Shintaro sent you to do his dirt work, as usual.” Takao laughed again. “Tell him thanks but no thanks. I don’t want any second-hand bedside manner, and I’m just going to sleep anyway.”

“Oy! [Y/N]-chan! Don’t be like that!” The dark-haired teen’s hand lanced out to catch the door. Barring you from closing it. “Shin-chan was really worried when you didn’t come to school today. Honest. He does want to help. You just know how he is though. I know it’s not the same as coming up here himself, but he bought all this stuff and wrote down all these instructions for me to help make you feel better.”

You look at the bag Takao had in his hand. It did seem like a lot. Midorima must have gone to several different drug stores to pick it all up and bring it over here. Even if he did stay in the parking lot. You look past Takao down to the ground floor, where Midorima was standing looking up at your apartment. Seeming to wait for you to follow his instructions about going inside but also with that steadfast look he got when he was truly worried about something.

“You just don’t want to go back down there and tell him you failed.” The boy in front of you laughed with an awkward ‘maybe’. “You can’t stay too long. My parents are going to be back after work, and they’re not going to be happy about a boy in my room and another one looking real stalkery in the parking lot.”

“Thanks [Y/N]!” Takao said as you let him in.

“Make sure they take the cold medicine now, before it gets too late. It’s one cap full every 4 hours. Drink some of the green tea I made for you. It’s in the green thermos. The red one is soup.”

“I know how to take medicine Shintaro. And I already ordered food before you got here. It’s on its way so-Wait! Why am I arguing with a walkie-talkie!?!”

Aomine:

You have an absolutely splitting headache. To the point that every time you get up to go to the bathroom and throw up, you check to see if an icepick is somehow lodged in the back of your skull.

Why did you have to get sick today? Aomine was going to kill you for missing his game; even if the outcome was inevitable. His love for basketball was second only to you (and sometimes you weren’t sure about the ranking). So you being at his games was what he loved most of all. If you weren’t there to see him crush whatever team into dust and lead his team to victory, you’d never hear the end of it. Maybe you’d get lucky and he’d get in the Zone early on and not even realize you weren’t there. Yeah…that was possible….

You crack your eyes open into painful, narrow slits from under the covers as you realize the pounding you were hearing was not just in your head but at the door. What idiot was banging on your door in the middle of the afternoon?

Steeling yourself to get up and answer the door. You were surprised to find it was your idiot behind the door. Aomine standing there, in his trademark Too warmup suit and equally trademark scowl.

“Aomine? What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?! What are you doing here?!”

“I kind of live here.”

Aomine tsked through his teeth with a sneer. “That’s not what I meant, baka! Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?!”

“Oh….” You blink a little in surprise. What was a good way to tell him that you didn’t think he’d care? “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“It’s not, but you should still tell me about it!” He told you. “I had to hear about it from Satsuki. Do you know how stupid that makes me look if I don’t know that my own s/o is sick?!”

“So are you mad that I didn’t tell you? Or are you mad that I made you look stupid?”

“I’m mad at both!” Aomine yelled. He then seemed to realize he was yelling at a sick person, and his s/o, so he took a breath and calmed down. “Here.”

You look down at the convenience store bag he offered you. Taking it in your hands. “What’s this?”

“Jellies.” He replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t know which flavor you’d like when you’re sick, so I just got a bunch of ‘em.”

You blink at the bag, then up at Aomine. He…got these for you? You can see on his face now that he was angry because he was worried about you. Not that you were going to miss the game, but because he was worried about you. Your beautiful basketball ace was too proud to admit it though. “Thanks.” You said softly, with an equally soft smile.

The ace looked away and rubbed the back of his head while he was at it. “Yeah well, jellies always made me feel better when I was sick as a kid. Figured they’d make you feel better too.”

“I really appreciate it. I haven’t been able to keep much down.” Maybe that was TMI, but hey. Relationships weren’t always moonbeams and rainbows. “These will really hit the spot.”

“Well, I got extra red ones in there for you, so crack one open.” Aomine said as he saw himself past you and into your apartment.

“Hold on! You’re eating my present now?! Wait…hang on a minute, aren’t you supposed to be warming up for your game? How are you going to get back in time for starting line up if you’re here now?”

“I’m skipping it.” The blunette answered as if it was obvious. Taking off his windbreaker jacket and throwing it in a chair, before he flopped himself on your couch with his limbs stretched out to take up most of it. “There’s no one strong on that team anyway. So, it’s no fun. Let those other guys put in the work for once. They can’t expect me to carry the team all the time. So annoying….”

You stare at Aomine. Was he really….skipping basketball….to be with you here when you’re sick?

A warm feeling, you’re sure was not your fever this time, spread over you. He really did care, didn’t he?

“You should really put those in the fridge before they get warm. Warm jellies are the worst. I still want a red one though. Maybe two now that I think about it.”

You grumble as the ‘warm feeling’ starts to dissipate. Still harboring in your chest, but certainly less profound than it was a moment ago. “It’s super rude to eat someone’s present when they haven’t even had one of them, Aomine.” You still give him the red ones though.

Kise:

Your kingdom for another box of tissues. At the rate you were running through them, a small rainforest was in serious jeopardy.

If you didn’t feel so cruddy, you’d be more worried about that fact. Right now, however, you just wanted your nose to stop running. You had been sneezing and sniffling all day, and in an effort to not be labelled ‘Typhoid Mary’ chosen to stay home from school. It was the reasonable thing to do. When you were sick.

You finish blowing your nose for the umpth time when your phone rang. You pick it up and answer with a gravely, “hello?”

“[Y/N]-CCHI!!”

You pull the phone away from your ear at the loud, sobbing cry of your name through the phone from your boyfriend. “Kise…don’t yell…”

“[Y/N]-cchi! You’re sick! Why didn’t you tell me?? Kurokocchi had to call me today and tell me!”

Damn Kuroko. That snitch. “Because it’s not a big deal. It’s just a little cold. I’ll be fine.”

“But [Y/N]-cchi! You’re all alone with no one to take care of you! I won’t be back til Sunday!” Kise had gotten a modeling job out of town for the weekend. Some ‘on location’ gig for some sea side pics. Poor Kise. He must be freezing. But, those photos needed to be done and printed long in advance before summer time to boost sales.

If you had had to put money on it, you would have thought he would be the sick one: running around half naked on a frozen beach in January. Yet here you were.

“Do you think I just sit in a dark closet, with nobody around, until you show up again Kise?” A dramatic gasp was heard on the other end of the phone. “I’m not ‘alone’ Kise. I mean, I am now, but I have people around me to help if I need it. So you don’t have to worry.”

“But I’m not around to help you!” Kise whined. You can practically hear the broken-hearted boyfriend emoji floating around his head. “Let me at least order you some soup. Soup is what sick people eat right? That place near your house has that chicken ramen you like. Chicken ramen is like chicken soup. That’s what people eat when they’re sick right?? Or maybe you want something else?? What’s another thing that sick people eat?!”

“Ryouta!” You have to yell his first name to get him out of the spiral. You love Kise, but every now and then his boundless energy was annoying. You let out a sigh, and tell him, “yes, you can order me some food. Don’t go overboard.”

Kise perked up. You do kind of wish you could see his smiling face. It was so cute when he did these adorable 180s. He promised not to go overboard before he hung up the phone and ordered you some food. He then immediately called you back to let you know it would be there in 20 minutes, and told you all about his day.

He stayed with you on the phone when your food came, and even after. You watched one of your favorite movies on Netflix party, curled up in your blankets on your bed. If you closed your eyes and focused on the warmth of your blankets & Kise’s soft voice in your ear, it was almost like he was here.

You fell asleep to that feeling. Feeling much better after you woke up and waiting for Kise to come home.

Kuroko:

You toss and turn a little in your sleep, trying to get back to it as you’ve actually woken up and want to sleep more. Rest was the only cure for a cold. And although you were still tired, even though you’d stayed home and slept all day, you were apparently too tired to fall back asleep.

You crack your eyes open. Your vision blurry for a moment before it clears up. Leaving you with a sea of blue in front of you. “Hello [Y/N].”

You let out a surprise shriek, followed by an almost perfect imitation of your boyfriend’s Ignite Pass against his face. “K-Kuroko!” You stammer, as the young man in question tried to recover from the shattering blow you just gave him. “I’m so sorry! What are you doing here?!”

“Your mother let me in.” He replied, words muffled by his hand. He pulled it away to inspect it and seemed to find no blood. That was a relief. You’d feel so bad if you both were down for the count. “I wanted to see you, and bring you your course work for today.”

Ah. So that’s how he got in. You didn’t think your mother would just let a high school boy in your room unsupervised. Also, maybe it was because Kuroko looked so unthreatening. If only she knew. “Thanks. Sorry again.”

“It’s alright. I should have known better than to sneak up on a sick person.” He said with a soft smile. His hand reached out to pet your head. “How are you feeling?”

“Still crummy,” you confess, “but on the mend. I’m sure I’ll be back to school on Monday.”

“Good. Everyone at school misses you. Even the senpais were asking about you today.”

“Did you miss me Kuroko?” You ask sheepishly.

To which he got a surprised expression before softening and immediately answering, “yes.”

Your face warmed with something other than a fever, and you pulled your blanket up to your nose. “You should go. I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“I’ll stay for a little bit longer. Don’t worry. I won’t get sick.”

It was a big fat lie as Kuroko was sick immediately after he left. He really should have known better with his borderline frail physique for anything other than basketball. Still, it was nice to talk to him for a while. And you got to take care of him after you were better, so it was all worth it.

Murasakibara:

‘Just a few more hours. You can do this.’

You keep repeating that to yourself over and over again in your head as you trudge down the hall. Only a few more classes and you could go home to die in peace. Why did you have to have a test today?!

Your penance march comes to a halt when you run into somebody. Looking up you realize it was Murasakibara. “Oh, sorry Mura-kun. I didn’t see you there.” You really must be sick if you hadn’t noticed the tower that was your boyfriend and Yosen center.

“[Y/N]-cchi, you don’t look so good.” The purple haired man drawled.

You frown up at him, not needing to hear that right now. “That’s not very nice to say to your s/o, Mura-kun.”

“But it’s the truth.” He told you. “Honesty is the best policy.” You couldn’t really argue with him there. Besides, you were too weak to argue.

Suddenly your vision was dark. You were worried for a second that you might have blacked out in your sick induced state, but quickly realize that Murasakibara’s large hand was on your face. “Mura-kun, let go.”

“You have a fever.” He replied, completely ignoring your protest. He still let you go, of his own volition, and stood to his full height again. “You need to go to the nurse.”

“No. I need to go to class.” You state in a huff. Batting his hands away in an effective, but weak manner, before walking past him to head just there.

You make it about three steps before Murasakibara grabbed you. Lifting you up in the air with ease and throwing you over his shoulder, in a move that would have made your head spin normally. Not to mention if you had a fever. “Atsushi! Let go!” You shout. Squirming and kicking your legs to no avail.

“No. You need to go to the nurse.” He repeated. Carrying you like a sack of potatoes as he walked down the hall.

“Put me down Atsushi! This is embarrassing! I need to go to class and take my test! It’s important!”

“Nothing is more important that your health.” You stop struggling for a moment as Murasakibara said something actually profound for once. “[Y/N]-cchi needs to take care of themselves, or they’ll just get sicker and get others sick. Tests and silly stuff like school work can wait.”

You grumble and slump down on Murasakibara’s shoulder. It wasn’t like him to be this serious. He also seemed very serious about taking you to the nurse. Nothing seemed capable of deterring him from that path. “Mura-kun, can you put me down? I’ll go to the nurse with you, but this isn’t really comfortable and I can walk on my own.”

He stopped. Then gave you a side ways glance out of the corner of his eye, seeming to not trust you, but still gave in and sat you down. “[Y/N]-cchi is gonna be good?”

“Yes,” you tell him, “I’ll be good.”

He escorted you the rest of the way to the nurses station. Asking if he could have a lollipop, and annoyed when they didn’t have one. What kind of a doctor’s office was this if they didn’t have lollipops, he asked. You’d giggled a little bit and told him to get to class. You’d call him later, since your parents were going to have to pick you up and take you home. You 100% had a fever and were told to go home. Murasakibara pet your head once more before he left to get to class.

The next day, when you were home recuperating, your mother had come into your room with a big candy store bag. “Someone left this big bag of lollipops at the door for you. Do you have any idea who it’s from?”

Kagami:

“I’m really ok Mom….No, it’s not that serious….You really don’t have to come home. Dad either. It’s not the first time I’ve had a cold, and I’m just gonna sleep it off. I’ll be fine by myself…..Yes, I got medicine….No. I’ll be ok. I have a friend from school who’s checking in on me….I love you too. Bye.”

“Your Mom ok?” You look up from the couch when Kagami came up behind it. Handing you a bottle of water for your scratchy sounding throat.

“Yeah. She’s ok. Just worried. She asked if I wanted her to come home, but I told her no.” You hate to admit it but you’re pretty sure it was a hollow gesture. Your parents work was very important. You had learned that early on growing up. They missed certain things in the trade off for having very important, successful careers. One of which was taking care of their child when they were sick.

“You also didn’t tell her it was me who was here. How come?”

“You want me to call her back and tell her we’re playing house?” You ask, with as cheeky of a grin as you can muster being sick. It still got the desired result.

“We’re not playing house!”

“Doctor then?”

Your cute boyfriend turned about as red as his hair, and stalked off back to the kitchen while fluster muttering to himself.

You chuckle a little. Which turned into a coughing fit, so you had to drink a little bit of water.

You and Kagami had initially bonded over being “latchkey kids”. Though your situation was not as severe as Kagami’s, with your parents still being in the country at least, they both traveled for work a lot and were rarely home. They tried to stagger their work trips so you wouldn’t be home alone, but this wasn’t the first time.

This also wasn’t the first time you would be alone when you were sick, if it hadn’t been for Kagami.

“Aren’t you worried you’re going to get sick?” You ask from the living room. Your voice squeaking and squawking the whole time.

“I never get sick.” He replied back confidently. Then rounded the corner with a tray you were 90% sure you did not have in your house before now. “Basketball and eating right keeps me healthy. So, I never get sick. You don’t have to worry.”

“I don’t think eating a dozen cheeseburgers a day counts as ‘eating right’.” You tell him.

Kagami grumbled. Seeming to want to argue or say something, but realizing its bad form to fight with a sick person. Instead, he just sat the tray down in front of you and sat on the couch. “What’s this?”

“Chicken noddle soup,” he replied. “Japan doesn’t have the right noodles. So I had to use soba. But the main part should be the same.”

“You made me chicken soup?”

Kagami tensed for a moment. His face turning hot pink again; possibly from the soft expression on your face or the soft sound of your voice. He turned away, scratching his cheek. “Y-Yeah. Like I said, it’s important to eat right to keep healthy. So…So eat up so you can be at school on Monday. It sucks when you’re not there.”

You smile softly at Kagami, then lean over to give him a peck on the cheek. “You said you never get sick right?” You tell him when he looked at you. His cheeks still pink, but not much pinker than before.

You eat your soup and gush constantly over how tasty it was. Kagami seemed super proud. Cooking and basketball were the two skills he was most proud of, and knowing that you liked something he made made him puff out his chest even more.

After your soup he made you a bowl of ice cream you were also 90% sure you did not have in your house before now and watched a movie.

After that, Kagami said he was going to head home but when he stood up from the couch you hand lanced out and grabbed onto his shirt tail on it’s on. “Could…Could you stay?” You’ll blame the weak sounding tone of your voice on your cold later. “I know I told my mom that I’d be fine on my own but….I really don’t want to be alone.”

The red headed ace blinked, seeming surprised by your confession (that you were also totally going to blame on your cold later). He gave you a soft smile and sat back down on the couch. Pulling you into his arms so you were practically in his lap. “You could have just told me that.”

859 notes · View notes

fairestwriting · 3 years

Note

slams open your door/ one angst request for a childhood g/n reader with deuce, ace, jack, ruggie and vil coming right up! "if we're still single by 30, let's get married! (for housing benefits lol)" it was a childish promise made in jest, but the boy never forgot. in the end, it ends with unrequited/pining feelings from one/both sides that cant be returned due to bad timing/prior engagements/etc when they reach of age (go hogwild with the scenarios lis!!)

(slams my hands on the table) yes yes yes yes YES i love this trope

+ if you like my writing, you can buy me a ko-fi to support me!

Deuce Spade

You make the promise to him after you confessed to your crush sometime in 7th grade and got rejected, left to cry by yourself behind the school. Out of all your friends, only Deuce came to comfort you -- And so you, in your dramatic childish glory, feeling like you’d never find anyone to love, tell him the two of you should get married if you’re single by 30.

Deuce remembers every detail of that event down to how your eyes gleamed with the tears, how the light of the sunset casted that golden glow on your hair -- It was when he knew he loved you. It took him a while to find the right words to describe the feeling, but he’d been feeling it for a long time.

He doesn’t pursue you because he feels like he’ll grow out of it. You go to NRC together, the two of you against the world, and it’s like everyday he falls in love a little more. You support him through his attempts of being a honors student, and on the day of your graduation, the first thing you do is hug each other tight, cheering about how you made it, you finally made it.

You don’t lose contact with each other even after school. Deuce and you are basically attached to the hip, meeting up every other week to talk about college and then your jobs. Through all of this time you’re friends, both of you go through a handful of relationships each, but none of them are really serious. As you approach 30, Deuce remembers that promise from back then.

When your birthday comes up, you’re sort of gloomy over recent breakup, and Deuce, naturally, is the first one to be there for you. He shows up in the morning with a gift and makes you breakfast, your dear best friend warming your heart once more. You rant about your latest partner and exchange anecdotes about how last week went before everything goes silent, and suddenly his hand is hesitantly on yours.

“D-Do you remember, um.” He begins, face flushed. “That promise we made in middle school? That if we were single until 30...”

You blink. Really, that? It felt like so long ago -- It was hard to remember even. You can barely catch what he was going to try to say before you laugh your middle school self off, snickering at how naive you were -- Something in Deuce seems to shatter, then, and his hand retracts. It’s so fast you can barely tell what’s happening.

And he stays with you through the birthday regardless, of course he does. He’s your dearest friend, isn’t he?

the rest is under the cut cause... its long

Ace Trappola

You hated Ace, initially. You met in kindergarten and he was the worst, literally. Always pulling pranks on everyone and acting just so infuriatingly cheeky, your 5 year old self learned real rage through that little redhead boy who always hid your things just to get a rise out of you.

One day you decided to prank him back, causing massive trouble in the classroom that ends with the two of you getting intensely scolded, and that’s how, somehow, a beautiful friendship blooms. Ace gets this sparkle in his eyes when you’re done getting yelled at, and says that the two of you should be friends and work together on doing this to other people.

Since then you two became inseparable. You’d never stop bickering, but you also never left each other’s side. The two of you were a menace, an absolute terror to your teachers -- Whether you were a good kid before meeting him or not didn’t matter, Ace is great at being a bad influence.

Near the end of 4th grade, you begin hearing about how one of your classmate’s single parent was getting married again. This sparked a big conversation between your class, somehow, with everyone declaring who they wanted to marry. It was a silly childish thing. When your turn comes, you proudly announce that when you grew up, you’d marry Ace if you hadn’t married anyone else by 30, ‘cause no one else would choose him but me! You snicker after making the comment, amused at how mean you were being, but somehow your snarkiness seems to fly over Ace’s head.

It’s a thing that happens that you two never really talk about again, but it ticks in the back of his mind for his whole life as you two grow up. Even entering middle and then high school, he always remembers it when he goes through some sort of romantic disappointment. You really were the only one who always stuck around, after all...

Years go by and somehow you’re still by each other’s side. Every birthday that passes Ace thinks about it a little more, he wonders if that promise from ages ago was true. When your 30th birthday comes up the promise is constantly in his mind, he’s driving himself up the wall with expectation. And he doesn’t even know why he’s feeling like that, really, you two are just childhood friends, right? There’s no reason for him to be feeling so... like this.

Eventually, he just blurts it out, a couple days after said birthday. You two are probably just hanging out and ranting about work when he goes “Hey, you remember that stuff you said in 4th grade? About, uh, us getting married?” And you go silent for a beat. His heart races as he wonders what the hell he’s doing, even.

But you laugh it all off. What, that stuff about marrying you? Yeah, I was such a dumb kid. I was right, though, look how you’re still single, you joke, and it feels like a punch to the gut to Ace. He laughs awkwardly with you. Yeah, sure, how foolish the two of your were for thinking of something like... you two... being together like that...

Jack Howl

Jack was, before everything, the scary boy in your 2nd grade class. Beastmen weren’t exactly common at school, especially wolves like him, so he ended up sticking out quite a lot. Most kids, your friends included, thought he was far too scary to approach. And Jack himself seemed to be fine with that, not really interacting much with anyone.

That was all he was for you until, one day, an older kid gets mad at you during lunch for bumping into them and staining their shirt with juice. They’re about two or three years ahead and so much taller than you, you’re genuinely scared -- And who would know that in a moment like this, the one kid in your class you weren’t very fond of would stand up for you, convincing the bully to go away.

Afterwards, Jack asks if you’re okay, you two end up eating together, and the rest is history. You find out he was actually really sweet, despite seeming so tough, and you get comfortable with it. Jack was always a reliable, loyal friend, someone you knew you could count on.

This included when your friends started being weirded out by you for getting close to the scary boy in class. They get it in their heads that you have a crush on him and tease you for it, which makes you upset, but Jack stands up for you again. This was enough for you to be pretty starry eyed at the age of 7, so you declared that, hey, who cares about what these mean kids are saying! Maybe you and Jack should be together anyway. Actually, if you two got to 30 and you were still single, you should get married! Jack gets just as starry eyed as you, and you seal a pinky promise that day.

What you never knew, though, was that he wouldn’t grow out of it -- Because as time goes by and you two grow up alongside each other, it ends up slipping your mind. You meet new people and learn new things, getting into some relationships here and there, and though you’d taken the promise seriously for a bit when you were a kid, it was just something you laughed about now.

You don’t even remember it on Jack’s 30th birthday. You’re one of the first people to show up to the small gathering, naturally, you had known each other since forever. You’re teasing him about how he was so perpetually single even now, that you were reaching “marriage age”, and this seems to fluster him a bit.

“Well...” He starts, his ears going slightly limp. “I wanted... to keep that promise, you know. From when we were kids.” His voice is quiet, uncertain. It’s different from how you usually hear him talk, and you have no idea what he’s talking about. You question him about it, and he’s wide eyed when he realizes that you actually forgot.

He questions you about it. How could you forget? You two actually made a pinky promise about it -- But you’re just confused as to why he’s bringing this up, saying that of course it wasn’t a big deal, you two were just kids when it happened! Was he really expecting something from that? And when you ask him that, he’s silent.

Needless to say, the birthday is soured. Jack asks for you to leave, it’s a mess. You don’t know what you did wrong, exactly, just like you’re not sure how you could possibly fix this.

Ruggie Bucchi

“Partners in crime” was the only possible way to describe what sort of relationship you had with Ruggie. It starts in elementary school, you’re walking around in a farmer’s market near the slums and you catch him taking a handful of apples from a stand, without paying. Your eyes are wide as you remember who that boy was, a classmate of yours, and despite what your family had taught you about stealing, you walk up to the person taking care of the stand, and start chatting with them to distract them.

You’re not sure what really made you want to help this boy you barely knew, but it turned out to be the one thing in your life you’re the most grateful for, because the next day, when he sees you again in class, he runs up to you to thank you so many times in a row. And since then, you two started spending time together.

And you got along so well! Ruggie got along with most of the other kids and you had some friends of your own, but nothing was compared to how close the two of you were. You two scheme your way in and out of trouble through your school days, and at one point you can barely imagine your life without him.

Sometime mid 6th grade, your classmates start talking of crushes and dating and such, which gives you a lot to think about. You’re a bit upset that you seem to be the only one who isn’t in on the new fun, so one day, when you’re hanging out with Ruggie, you complain about feeling like you’d be single forever. Ruggie laughs and says that if no one wanted to be with you, then no one would want to be with him either. You still wonder what that meant.

In a fit of childishness, you say decisively that if you two were single until you were 30, you’d get married. Looking back on it, you can’t tell if you were kidding or not, but Ruggie and you shake hands mid-laughs, like you’re sealing a deal.

So time goes by. You don’t think too hard about that promise and Ruggie... doesn’t seem to, either, you actually wonder what’s going through his head often, because he rarely tells you what he’s thinking. You end up going to NRC together, to both of your families’ joy, and that just ends up making you closer, as two kids from the less-privileged side of the Afterglow Savannah in such a prestigious academy...

Your bond ends up really fire-forged after those four years, so it’s no surprise to anyone that you’d still be close even after you graduate, even as adults. Nothing could break a friendship like this.

You think about it on the day of your 30th birthday, when you’re out for drinks with Ruggie to celebrate. Really, how the hell did you stick to each other’s side for so long? You ask him as you loop an arm around his neck, and he grins. “Well, maybe we should get married like you promised then, y’know... when we were brats.” He says, a little quieter than your previous conversation. There’s a hint of some kind of different feeling there that you don’t catch at the time, scoffing at him and going, yeah, in your dreams.

The rest of the night goes normally, though you don’t hear from him for a couple days afterward... and when you do, he barely looks you in the eye. You wonder if anything bad happened, if you did anything wrong.

Vil Schoenheit

When Vil Schoenheit moved into your town, everybody was talking about him before he even really set foot into the classroom. Everyone had seen him somewhere -- The poster boy of villainy in all your favorite movies, a kid with a pretty face and a haughty aura.

You’re as curious as everyone else to meet him, though you don’t really share that strange vindictiveness the other kids seemed to have, angered at Vil himself for what his characters put others through. It’s so stupid, you thought, isn’t he just the actor? He might actually be nice.

When he arrives into the classroom, people are about as annoying towards him as you expected. Their disdain towards Vil bothered you, he’d barely said anything to others and yet they were already pegging him as a mean, arrogant person. So stupid, you repeat to yourself, and you decide to talk to him normally, and that’s how your ages-long friendship came to life.

Vil wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met. You come to find that he’s rather haughty, yes, and very strict with pretty much everything, but he was also very kind deep down, and willing to help you with anything you needed. He was a good friend. He was also, as you came to find out as you grew a little more, astoundingly pretty. With people disliking his “villainy” or not, by the time you’re starting middle school, he already consistently gets confessed to.

You’re a bit jealous. Not because you wanted Vil for yourself, no, he was just a good friend, but you wished people would find you as attractive as they found him, sometimes. You express that to him when you’re walking home together one day, and he laughs it off, saying it wasn’t as good as you thought it’d be. Still, you make him promise that if you were single by 30, he’d have to marry you, because if he just let you die alone, he’d be a bad friend. Vil seems strangely mesmerized by that, but he agrees.

Time goes by, you get to watch each other grow. Even with all the people going in and out of Vil’s life, he seems to keep you closer to his heart than everyone, and you never really lose contact with each other. Even when he’s busy, with movies or modeling or school, he still makes time to check up on you, and you see each other often.

When you’re actually nearing 30, Vil has reached a sort of stardom that burned your eyes just looking at, and you were so goddamn proud of him it was real. Somehow, he still makes time to show up for your birthday, after about a month of not really seeing each other -- And he spoils you to death on that day, the two of you spending all of it together and talking until it was late at night.

As the sun is about to rise, though, Vil’s chattiness subsides. About as sleep deprived as you, he says, softly “So since we’ve gotten there, and we’re both still single... maybe we should fulfill that promise from years ago, shouldn’t we?” You take a moment to process it, it’s tough remembering exactly when you made such a promise, but eventually you do. You feel like that should’ve been a joke, but the way Vil looks at you isn’t saying joke at all.

You sort of laugh it off either way, though. What, that silly promise? You ask, are you rubbing it in that you’re prettier than me? I can still find a partner looking like this, y’know. You think it’s funny, but Vil suddenly falls completely silent.

He then sighs, almost wistful, and says “Sure you can” before the conversation progresses... you’re not sure what happened, but life goes on after that like nothing happened. Deep down, Vil is feeling stupid for having taken the promise to heart, like he should have known better... but if you never really meant it, then what could he do but give it up? Even though it was the thing he wanted to do the least... he valued your friendship too much to do something that could possibly ruin it.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #vil schoenheit #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola x reader #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #lis writing

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yukipri · 4 years

Photo

One Piece Mermaid AU!

Featuring Luffy as a rubber mermaid who can’t swim, and Ace who carries her on his back as they pirate together.

＊Genderbend warning, fem!Luffy

Sliding in last minute for MerMay, bc idk about you, but I need something to mark that May has passed this year...

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

Base headcanons for this AU beneath the cut! ↓ ↓ ↓

Luffy's a mermaid who was raised in Fuusha village, just like in canon. And, just like in canon, despite being a mermaid, she SUCKS at swimming, a fact that Shanks finds absolutely hilarious. She still wants to become a pirate, she still eats her devil fruit and becomes a rubber mer(?), she still gets kidnapped by Higuma (who sees her as an excellent way to rake in cash, given how valuable mermaids are on the slave market), and Shanks still gives her his hat.

As a devil fruit user, Luffy's already atrocious swimming skills are now at zero. She can still breathe under water, but will sink like a stone, her strength sapped by the sea, and if she loses consciousness she'll stop breathing too. Needless to say, she stays out of the water, and the villagers come to accept that sometimes, mermaids just live on land.

Garp still comes back, and is still furious at her wanting to become a pirate (and inwardly, extremely concerned that a bandit tried to catch and sell her), and still takes her to live at Dadan's where she meets Ace.

Ace has no idea what to think of the weird fish-brat who he's now told is gonna be his sibling, and resolutely ignores Luffy. He's inwardly slightly impressed as Luffy continues to follow him through the mountain every day, not even particularly hindered by lack of legs and using a mixture of crawling, squirming, hand-walking, and ricocheting forward with rubber arms to move.

Luffy still meets Sabo the same way as canon, and is still caught by Porchemy, who at first is thrilled because a mer brat! That'll bring in WAY more money than the spare change Ace stole! But in the end, he loses his temper at Luffy's stubbornness and still beats her to a pulp.

Ace and Sabo still rescue Luffy, and they still exchange sake cups and become brothers.

Yes, brothers.

Because at this point, neither Ace nor Sabo nor any of the bandits, nor anyone really on Dawn island save Makino and Garp actually know that Luffy's a girl. Not even Luffy.

The three brothers promise to each other that they'll all leave the island when they turn seventeen, setting out to sea to become pirates (Ace and Sabo are honestly a little concerned, given how often people try to sell Luffy, and how despite aquatic appearances Luffy's vulnerable af in water, but decide to wait and see. They have seven years together, Luffy ten until seventeen, who knows how much stronger their baby brother will get in that time).

Sabo "dies."

Ace and Luffy continue to train, and things don't change until Ace is seventeen, shortly before he sets out to sea.

He's let Luffy crawl into his blanket to sleep with him (partially cold-blooded, Lu gets cold easily when inactive), and Ace realizes that his lil brother's chest feels a bit lumpy.

Concerned, he makes Luffy have it checked out by the bandits, who are shocked to find developing...breasts?

That can't be right...right?

Dadan makes a call to Garp, who snorts and says of COURSE Luffy's a girl, didn't he say granddaughter?

No, he had not, he had only mentioned "grand child."

Everyone is shocked, but none more so than Ace, who really doesn't know what to do with this new information.

(Luffy's not quite sure what a "girl" is, and when she asks Ace, Ace honestly doesn't know how to define "girl" either, so she doesn't get what the big deal is)

Ace realizes he's troubled because he can't remember the number of times he's rescued Luffy from potential traffickers, and the number of times he's heard the lament, "Pity it's not female, it'd be worth quadruple," from the kidnappers before he beats them to a pulp.

He already had doubts about letting Luffy go out to sea alone, three years after he's left. But now knowing that Luffy's a girl, and one of the most sought-after species that traffickers target...he knows the world out there is much bigger than a teeny peaceful East Blue island, and Luffy may not get lucky every time, and may not be strong enough in just three years.

But at the same time, it's not like he can order her to stay here. There's no way Luffy'd listen; the sea calls to her, freedom calls to her, and Ace understands that more than anyone.

Sabo, Ace thinks, what would you do?

The night before he leaves, Ace tells Luffy that there's been a change of plans.

He's still leaving for sea. He's going to get stronger, and work his way towards becoming Pirate King.

BUT, three years later, Luffy will NOT leave Dawn Island alone.

Ace promises that he'll come back, a stronger pirate capable of looking out for his baby brother (because girl or not, they exchanged vows of brotherhood, and that's something that can't be changed).

He refuses to let Luffy be his captain, he's still got his pride, but maybe, maybe if Luffy becomes strong enough, he'll let her be co-Captain.

Luffy is thrilled, because she wanted to be pirates WITH Ace, and grudgingly accepts the compromise, and promises to train and wait for Ace's return.

Ace leaves Dawn island, and makes a name for himself on the Grand Line (he's PISSED when he finds out he's eaten a devil fruit, because now how's he supposed to rescue Lu from drowning when he can't swim himself???).

He even eventually makes it to Whitebeard, and eventually comes to admire the man. Whitebeard invites him to his crew, and Ace honestly replies that a large part of him wants to accept...but he can't. He promised his baby brother that they'll be pirates and co-captains together, and he can't join another pirate crew without Luffy agreeing too. Even so, and he knows it's selfish of him, he wants to call Whitebeard his father.

Whitebeard tells him that Ace is already his son, regardless of where his allegiances lie, and gives him his blessing to return to East Blue to fetch Luffy. Whitebeard laughs that he can't wait to meet the lil brat that Ace speaks so highly of, and for Ace to hurry up and come back to the New World so they can meet.

Ace plans on traveling light, his former crew all choosing to join the Whitebeard pirates except for his first mate, Deuce. Ace loves his crew, but they're also his crew, and knows that he wants to make their crew with Luffy. So he thinks he and Deuce will be a good starting point (You're just bringing me along bc you want someone who can swim on the crew, Deuce accuses).

As they're planning on leaving, Marco lets slip to fellow commander Thatch that he heard that Ace's "little brother" is actually a super cute girl.

The next morning, Thatch shows up too, insisting that he come along, because hey! He's been with the Whitebeards for ages and hasn't been to Paradise in a while, he wants some change! And won't it be nice to have someone as reliable as him along, just until they get back to the New World and reunite with the Whitebeards? Really he has no ulterior motives like wanting to check out Ace's supposedly hyper hot baby brother-sister!

Ace is suspicious, but Thatch is already on board and the other Whitebeards are already waving so he lets it go.

(Shortly after they leave, Thatch discovers a devil fruit. Deuce tells him to sell the damn thing, it'll taste like shit, but Thatch thinks boy wouldn't it be great to be able to woo Ace's hot brother with a really cool devil fruit power. So he eats it, and yeah it tastes like shit, but now he can control Darkness which is sorta badass?)

(Somewhere on the Whitebeard ships, Blackbeard is still waiting for someone to find the darkness devil fruit, and well, it doesn't happen)

Before Ace returns to Dawn Island, part of him still hopes that Luffy looks passably like a guy. Having been to Fishman island, having befriended Jinbe, he knows that while mermen can still be targeted, mermaids are exponentially more vulnerable. He's learned the kinds of clothing that can help conceal tails, and is hoping that there's a slim chance they might be able to be pirates without the world knowing that Lu's a mermaid.

His hopes are shot when Luffy rockets into his arms at the dock, and his face is immediately buried in enormous tits that definitely weren't there three years ago.

Despite Ace's growing concerns (and red face; why does he feel so hot??? It's not his devil fruit...), Ace lets Luffy give Deuce a beating (why me?!) to claim her position as Ace's Co-Captain of the newly established ASL pirates (because if we're pirates together, Sabo has to be with us too!).

Luffy's gotten a lot stronger, but is still utterly ignorant of the outside world and the dangers it holds (such as the drooling Thatch who immediately wins Luffy over with his cooking despite Ace's burning glares). She's reckless and falls into the ocean every damn day, and while Deuce dives in after her and they've discovered her useful ability to talk to fish to ask for help, it still gives Ace heart attacks.

They still pick up more crew members while in East Blue, including Roronoa Zoro, Usopp, and Sanji, a pervy cook who competes daily with Thatch for Luffy's affections through food (Luffy appreciates the food).

At Arlong Park, Luffy encounters fishmen for the first time in her life. Arlong mocks Luffy's choice of friends and family, and invites her to join his crew made of her own kind. Fishmen and mer are the superior race, and Luffy will make a fine wife, Arlong says.

Luffy breaks his nose off, and Nami joins their crew.

Luffy's chosen mode of transportation is on the back of one of her sturdier crew mates, usually Ace, but often Zoro too. She unfortunately hates all the long skirts/robes Ace suggested for her to hide her tail, and so Ace has decided that being as intimidating as possible while carrying his brother glued to his back is the only way to go.

Needless to say, news of the former Spade Pirates Captain + Whitebeard Commander Thatch (are they an extension of the Whitebeards??) establishing the new ASL pirates spreads fast. That, and rumors that there's a beautiful young mermaid on board who can't swim. And despite the strength of the crew and their attempts at vigilance, Luffy's still dumb and gullible, and is kidnapped (and rescued) a dozen times before they're even on the Grand Line.

(after a few times, Luffy's uncharacteristically quiet, and privately asks Ace if they can break up the crew. She's holding Ace back; she not only made him come back to her, but half their adventures just seem to be her crew rescuing her. She's strong enough to defeat enemies, but not save herself. Ace tells her to shut up, and never bring this up again; they're BROTHERS, and he's not going to leave her behind or make her abandon her dreams when she can't accomplish them alone, and that's his choice. Luffy doesn't bring it up again, but works harder than ever to become stronger and earn recognition as co-Captain when the world seems intent on thinking of her as Ace's pet.)

During one of these kidnappings, Luffy's successfully brought all the way to an auction house before her crew can rescue her. An auction house that unbeknownst to them, was under investigation by the Revolutionary Army.

Liberating slaves is an unfortunately common mission for them, and Sabo's doing final sweeps as Koala frees the last of them when he notices a tank stowed away in a corner. He's familiar with these tanks, used to showcase mermaids in the rare occasions one can be caught, and it looks empty but he's still drawn to it for some reason.

It's only when he gets closer that he notices a mermaid crumpled at the bottom of the enclosure. She's completely slumped over, and he's afraid she's already gone, even as something about her screams with familiarity.

He's cracked the tank and has reached in to pull her out, when the wall behind him explodes in flames, revealing a furious Ace who snarls at the strange man with his hands on his baby brother...

...and then Sabo's memories come back.

Something like that???? For an initial HCs dump????

This AU has continued! A LOT! Check out the comics, illustrations, and text stories for this AU under the Mermaid AU section of my One Piece Masterpost!

As always, REBLOGS, tags, asks, and comments greatly appreciated!

Advance posts for this AU and more are on my Patreon! (Patreon(.)com/YukiPri)

#One Piece #MerMay #AceLu #Monkey D. Luffy #One Piece Mermaid AU #Portgas D. Ace #genderbend #YukiPri art #text headcanons #fem!Luffy #Honestly not a CLUE if this is the kind of AU that would interest people ^ ^;#Started on a whim and trying to keep my investment on it light #I have more posts planned for Patreon but idk if they'll be going public #it really depends on response so please let me know if this interests you!#I've been less invested in posting publicly recently and am trying to get that back #but i also know people don't engage in content anymore so...we'll see!!

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geminitarotmagick · 3 years

Note

Please do a MX and Wonho’s friendship reading. Thanks 😊

Hi! This is a very loaded question considering everything that happened, but it's my civic duty as a ot7 monbebe stan to bring to you the current energy around Wonho and Monsta X's friendships.

Please be warned that this is not a fluffy reading where I just say "they're brothers and they love each other." As much as I'd like that to be true as a monbebe, we actually get into some deeper issues and feelings here, and this reading is being kept very realistic, even if we as fans might not want to hear that there are negative feelings.

But with that said, let's get into it! In the center, we have how Monsta X as a whole see Wonho (left), and how Wonho sees Monsta X as a whole (right). The top row is Wonho's friendships with Shownu, Minhyuk and Kihyun, and the bottom row is his friendships with Hyungwon, Jooheon and IM.

Cards used: Wild Unknown Animal Spirits, Light Seers Tarot, Way of the Panda Tarot Baby Panda Edition

So, we start with how Monsta X as a whole view Wonho currently, and we have the Camel, the Eight of Cups, and the Seven of Swords. They, as a group, admire the fact that Wonho really knows himself, and that he had the courage to do what he needed to do, and has been able to hold his own as a solo artist. He think it's really cool how he's sort of walking his own path and challenges the norms of being an idol and coming back from a scandal and doing the type of music and things he wants to do. However, they still hold in the back of their mind that he walked away. They know why he did it, and they know that he thought it was for his best interest, and that it was probably for their best interest as a group too. But at the end of the day, he still walked away, and there are some negative feelings that they harbor from that, which is totally understandable.

Next, we have how Wonho sees Monsta X as a whole, and we have the Elk, Temperance and the reversed Fairy Godpanda. He appreciates the fact that they still support him and are there for him, even after everything that happened, and I can see that their support is something that's really really important to him. However, he has a lot of mixed feelings when it comes to the group, and once again, that's totally understandable considering everything that happened. He sees them as a strong unit, and sometimes I think he wonders if they're doing better without him, and that leads him down a negative thought path that he doesn't really like. But he still holds all of his positive memories with Monsta X very fondly in his heart, and he wouldn't replace them for the world.

More detail on each individual member's relationship with Wonho under the cut.

Now, we have Shownu and Wonho's friendship, and for that we got the King of Cups, Judgment and the Five of Pentacles. They still hold a lot of love for each other, and as the leader, Shownu understands why Wonho did what he did, and realizes that he especially did it to look out for Shownu once his name started getting dragged through the mud as well. Shownu is very very supportive on Wonho, and Wonho is the same back to him. He understands that Wonho had pure intentions, even if he went about things the wrong way, and I think he sees that Wonho walking away has changed both of them, and their relationship, for the better, and the whole situation caused them both to grow personally apart more than they could've grown together. He admires Wonho and his patience and resilience in still striving to create music even after everything that happened, and that's why he'll always support Wonho's solo music.

Next, we have Minhyuk and Wonho's friendship, and for that we have the reversed Six of Cups, the Tower, and the Hierophant. Wonho walking away was a big event in their friendship, and it really hasn't ever been totally the same since. Minhyuk is definitely one of the members who didn't understand Wonho's reasoning as much as someone like Shownu did, so I can see that their friendship was definitely fractured for a time, but at the end of the day, Minhyuk was able to forgive Wonho for what he did, and also forgive himself for not being able to be enough of a support system that Wonho felt like he needed to do that. At this point, their relationship is different, but it's healed, and they learn a lot from each other, and I think they come to each other for advice when they need it.

Next, we have Kihyun and Wonho's friendship, and for this we have the Four of Cups, the reversed Eight of Wands, and the Six of Swords. This one is really interesting to me, because it seems like Kihyun was actually the member who was the most hurt by Wonho leaving. We know that they were close, and so sometimes it's the people closest to us that we hurt with our actions. I can see that Kihyun felt like Wonho was so focused on the rumors and on being self sacrificing that he didn't realize that Monsta X was there for him, and I think he's held resentment against Wonho for not letting the members be there for him and try to get through the situation together. Their friendship was severely damaged by Wonho leaving, and I think it was something that kind of left them not knowing how to approach each other. I can see that they're working through everything that happened and working to rebuild their friendship, but it's not something that's so simple. There's trauma and pain that they have to talk through together before they can really get their friendship back to a good place, but they are working on it and working to get to a better place together.

Next, we have Hyungwon and Wonho's friendship, and the cards we have for that are the reversed Three of Cups, the reversed Sun, and reversed Devil. This is another case of the fact that Wonho's actions hurt the ones he was closest to the most. I can see that most of all, Hyungwon was hurt that Wonho decided to leave the group without consulting anyone, and he felt left out. I can see that after that, it was hard for Hyungwon to focus on Monsta X, and that he kinda felt disconnected from the group because of the negative energy surrounding it all. There was definitely a need for them to make amends and talk things through, and even tho they have, I can see that there's still some repairs that have to be made to their relationship. Despite everything, I think there are still feelings of betrayal that Hyungwon has, and it hasn't been so easy for them to move past that.

Next, we have Jooheon and Wonho's friendship, and for them we got the Five of Pentacles, the reversed King of Pentacles, and the reversed Queen of Wands. I think Jooheon definitely worried about Wonho feeling ostracized and left out when it came to the group and moving on without him, so I think he was one of the members who stayed in touch with Wonho the most to make sure he was ok and check up on him. I think they cleared their grievances out pretty quickly and were able to move forward a little easier than some of the members. He also understood that Wonho needed to take time away partially to get his mind right again after all of the malicious rumors targeting him, so I don't think he ever took him leaving as personally as some of the other members might've. He didn't think it would've been right for Wonho to stay if he didn't feel like it was right anymore, so he admired Wonho for making the choice that was right for him at the time, and I think that actually inspired Jooheon to have the courage to take HIS hiatus when he was feeling anxious and needed to get himself centered again, too. I think their relationship is definitely one of the better ones of the group, and I think they both talked each other through their hiatuses and hard times together.

Last but not least, we have the friendship between Changkyun and Wonho, and we got the Ace of Cups, the reverse Six of Swords, and the Nine of Pentacles. Interestingly enough, even tho they weren't the closest while Wonho was in Monsta X, I think their relationship is actually better than ever now. Changkyun is someone who's very resistant to change, so I can see that he didn't want to accept that Wonho left, and that that was baggage that they both carried into their friendship for a while. But I can see that at some point, they decided to have a fresh start, and that since that happened, they've been able to thrive as friends in a way that they never really were able to before. Wonho leaving was actually the best thing for their friendship, and they've been able to transition into this new phase in their relationship with relative ease, and their relationship has been one of success and mutual support of each other.

REQUEST A KPOP READING (currently closed) || REQUEST A MINI PERSONAL READING (currently closed) || REQUEST AN IN DEPTH PAID PERSONAL READING

#answered #tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot reader #kpop tarot #kpop tarot reading #monsta x #wonho #monsta x tarot #wonho tarot #monsta x tarot reading #wonho tarot reading #free tarot reading #paid tarot reading #kpop prediction #kpop reading #kreadings

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micasaessakusa · 4 years

Text

The luckiest man alive

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x Reader Genre: Angst Word Count: 3.224 words Warnings: Memory loss

If someone were to ask Bokuto what he thinks about life, he would undoubtedly give an answer that couldn’t be fitted into a three-hour monologue.

Tangents about his favorite pleasant aspects of his life would be there: his friends and family, volleyball, the feeling of victory, the feeling of being loved, and speaking of love - you.

Bokuto Koutarou believes he’s a very lucky man.

Of course, he gives great weight to hard work, but he’s just so lucky that his hard work has almost always been coupled with, well, luck. He’s lucky to have found his passion in volleyball, lucky to have been surrounded by people who always support him, lucky to have gotten the opportunities he’s been presented, lucky to be doing what he loves, and lucky that you’re there beside him.

Ups or downs, you’re there for him. And he’s so lucky that you make your presence even more known in his slumps. Did he do something good in his past life for him to be blessed with good fortune and you in his present life?

Maybe he saved the world or something, is what he always thinks.

And because of the luck that’s always been by his side, Bokuto is naturally optimistic. How could he not be positive when he always gets what he wants, right?

Sure, people see him as someone who’s easily swayed emotionally. And someone who feels down from the most mundane things must be a pessimist instead, right? That would make better sense, but when has Bokuto Koutarou ever abided by sense?

Even in the face of whatever Bokuto shows outside, his heart and mind are always set on looking towards the brighter side of things.

For example: he can’t hit well? Aww too bad, and for sure he’ll mope around a bit. BUT he’s already looking forward to getting back up again and hitting those super satisfying straights and thin crosscourt shots of his.

He fails an exam? You’ll see him hiding under his desk, muttering about how he just couldn’t get his mind to wrap around topics. BUT he’s already thinking of the tutoring he’s going to get from Yukie and Shirofuku because of course they’re not going to let their ace fail and get bumped off the team for academic failure.

They lose a game? He’ll undoubtedly be inconsolable for a day - maybe even two. BUT he’s already pumped with adrenaline from the anticipation of the future MSBY training sessions that would surely tire the heck out of him. They have to work to secure that next win after all.

Luck is always on his side. How could it not be when in his point of view, he’s the protagonist of the world.

Whatever comes his way is just a challenge waiting to be conquered. He could be sad and mopey for sometime, but for all intents and purposes, he’s absolute that he could triumph over anything.

To sum it up, even though Bokuto Koutarou could not be contained in a few words, if he does try to name a few to describe himself, it would be: lucky, optimistic, and of course, grateful. Gotta be thankful for all that fortune after all.

That’s who he is.

So when word reached him that you got into a terrible car accident that almost took your life, he cried.

He cried, sobbed-- he broke down in anguish and absolutely refused to leave your side throughout the whole operation to save your life. He remained adamant to not leave you by yourself in the weeks that took for you to recover, and he willed himself to remain optimistic that you would wake up from the coma-- that he could once again be given the chance to gaze upon your gentle, familiar orbs that he’s come to cherish so much.

It tore his heart to see you asleep.

That’s what he took to calling it: asleep, for if he called it what it really was, he’s afraid he’d break down even more. And break down he did. Just after being told of the severity of your condition, he fell to his knees on the hospital hallway, unable to support himself from the disbelief, the sadness that he felt. But his friends and family were there the whole time, never leaving him to fend for himself.

His teammates never left his side, especially Shouyou, your cousin Omi, Tsum Tsum, and of course, Kuroo and Keiji. Even with their own busy lives, Bokuto’s just so lucky to have special people that gave him strength when he needed it the most.

Bokuto wept from the accident, but he thanks his lucky stars that you survived, you made it out alive and that’s what really matters. He’s grateful that despite what happened, you weren’t taken away from him, and because of that, he’s optimistic that you’re going to wake up and give him the privilege to be with you again.

The universe must have heard his wishes, for you suddenly woke up a couple of days after the fifth week mark.

He remembers it clearly.

It was nine in the morning, he saw the time on the dashboard of his car before he shut the engine off. Lucky he found a parking spot near the entrance, as he remembers that time Atsumu drove him to the hospital and it took them almost half an hour to find a spot.

His ringtone broke through the sound of the morning rush just as he closed the door to the driver’s seat. Plucking his mobile out of his jean pockets and holding a cup of coffee with his other hand, he answered the call, seeing ‘Omi-Omi’ on the screen.

“Yes, Om--”

“[Y/N]’s awake--”

The steaming coffee slipped from his grasp and that’s all it took for him to run through the parking lot and into the entrance. He spotted a line in the elevator so he turned a corner instead, and opted to hike seven flights of stairs to your floor, skipping two or three steps to get there faster.

His heart was beating so fast it felt like it’s going to burst out of his chest, but he ignored it. He didn’t even notice the muted ringing in his ears from the adrenaline, all he’s thinking was how he needed to see you, he needed to see you. He needed to see you he needed to see you he needed to see--

All eyes turned to him when he barged into the room.

It felt like all the air escaped his body as he stood there glued to his spot. He saw you, already seated and looking at him.

You’re looking at him.

He didn’t notice the tears streaming down his face.

He took the first step, the second, the third, and soon he found himself kneeling beside your bed, your small hand grasped into his warm and much larger pair. Holding it tight with the desperation of a man afraid to lose his only one.

And there, he let it all go. It all came crashing down on him. The tears fell even harder than before as he cried his heart out. --the panic upon seeing your unmoving body, the fear that you might not survive the operation, the horror that gripped him when they told him you were in a coma.

--the adrenaline that seized him when Sakusa called, the nervousness in his steps on his way up. The relief from seeing you awake--

“Who are you?”

His entire body stiffened upon hearing your voice. First, from the unparalleled comfort of having to hear you again after so long, but then he registered what you said.

Still sniffling, he wiped his tears with the back of his hands, only then realizing how much he cried from the moment he saw you. His brows furrowed a little in confusion, looking around the room for a bit, only then did he process the solemn looks on the faces of his friends, each one unable to look him in the eye.

“What--?” he said softly as he let his gaze go back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you told him in an equally soft voice. “I don’t know who you are.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it might as well have been a shout from how loud your words rang in his ears. You turned your gaze away from him, pulling your hand free from his grasp as you kept your own hands clasped on your lap instead.

“Kiyoomi,” you called out with a bit of urgency, making your cousin rush to your side to give you the sense of security you needed.

The doctor cleared his throat lightly, catching his attention. Still confused and unable to wrap his head around what was happening, he stood up and walked slowly out of the room as he was escorted outside. He chanced a glimpse at your tired body just before the door shut.

He saw Kiyoomi huddled over your form as you held onto him desperately.

You didn’t even spare Bokuto a glance.

That was around twelve months ago, just seconds before the doctor finally told him about your condition. How the blunt force trauma to your head caused brain damage, which ultimately resulted in a version of retrograde amnesia.

But it was partial, said the doctor. The accident only seemed to have affected a few years of your life. Fortunately for you, you were able to retain your memories until some time after college. At least you didn’t have to wake up at a loss about who you are, at least you know your family, at least you remember your cousin Kiyoomi, at least at least at least at least-- but it was all just a big blur to Bokuto.

The moment he heard you remember just after college --roughly about a year after your uni grad when you tried out for pro-league, he blanked out, because that means you don’t remember him.

A year, that’s how long it’s been since you woke up. One year, one month, two weeks, and six days since the accident you were in, if he wants to be specific.

Months spent dying to engulf you in his embrace. Months spent unable to lie in bed with you beside him, to just go back to talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Months spent just visiting you in Sakusa’s loft because that’s where you’re more comfortable staying.

He respects your boundaries, but he just can’t help but miss everything about you.

He misses you.

A lot.

But still, he thanks the world for keeping you alive. He can’t even begin to imagine what life would be for him had things taken a turn for the worse, but he doesn’t have to think about that. Again, what matters is you’re alive and well.

Even with your condition, Bokuto still believes he’s lucky to have you by his side. Well, maybe not all of you, because while you’ve slowly gotten back to some of your usual routines like work, you still don’t have an inkling of who Bokuto really was, or is supposed to be for you.

The two of you go out on dates, and on some days, you even sleep in his apartment - your shared apartment. He takes you to his games, you go to family events together and the like. But even when you spend most of your time together, you still don’t remember your Kou.

He’s thankful for your safety, but he can’t help but wish for your speedy recovery every single night. There’s not a day that has gone by where he doesn’t wish for your brain to just suddenly regain what it lost.

No matter, though, Bokuto always thinks. This is just another challenge he has to overcome, and because he knows you’re strong, he’s optimistic that you could conquer this one, even if hope seems a little bleak this time around.

But he’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes to get you back.

You’ve decided to resume training with the EJP Raijin, your home team, of course under the guidance of your personal therapist and your trainers. He’s not too worried about your safety as he personally made sure to get a therapist recommended by his most trusted coaches. Plus, Motoya trains with the EJP men’s team, so really, you’re well taken care of.

The idea was also approved by your doctors who suggested you go back to doing what you mostly did before the accident to possibly try to trigger memories to resurface.

He snaps out of his trance as he watches your practice match. Your coaches let you participate in this one even though you’re still out of commission for the league proper.

It’s just training, but the way you move reminds him of when he first saw you in action. You might not remember participating in the league, but your movement now on the court serves as a painful but very beautiful reminder of what made him fall for you in the first place.

You might not have your memories, but everything else -your focus, determination, tenacity, your strength, it’s all there, and Bokuto could do nothing but smile in his sheer awe of your person.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is for you to run straight to him after having won the practice match. Sweaty and a bit out of breath, he sees you running straight towards him.

And heavens, your smile… the smile on your face right now could light up his life forever.

He opens his arms to catch you as you jump into his hold, winding your arms around his neck to keep him in a tight hug.

“Kou!” you exclaim. “We won!”

And he freezes.

You feel him stiffen almost instantly. Bokuto’s so far into his head that he fails to register the wide smile on his own face and the tears that promptly run down his cheeks.

You remember him! You remember him you remember him you remember--

“Kou?”

He jolts from his thoughts as he looks at you expectantly. You raise your hand to wipe the tears that adorn his face, a worried frown decorating your own.

“Why are you crying?” you say as you tilt your head in confusion.

“Do you remember now?” he breathes out the words so quietly you almost don’t hear them but the moment you do, it doesn’t escape his notice how the color practically drained from your face.

“I--, Bokuto--”

It feels like his heart is being gripped by barbed wires as he registers what you just said.

Bokuto. Bokuto-- you don’t remember him. You don’t. You do not remember him. You still don’t.

And that’s all it takes for him to release you from his hold as if you had just burned him. You try to reach out to him, but he steps away from you. Shaking his head in denial? Hurt? Confusion?

He sprints away out of the gymnasium, his thoughts running wild, filling his mind with unfiltered hatred of the world.

It’s just not fair! Why is this happening to him! Why must the world be cruel when he’s done nothing but good! Why must it happen to you and him! Why? Why!

Why can’t you just remember him!

And he collapses on his knees at the deserted hallway, his sobs coming out raw and wounded. The pain of having you stare at him without recognition for a year burning his heart and seizing it with just-- just hurt.

He cries at his hatred of the world. The optimism he so absolutely and almost religiously held onto for his entire life breaking apart at his feet like shards of glass.

And like that, he also finally breaks.

A year. He tried to stay positive for a year, enduring the feeling of his beloved looking at him as if he’s a stranger, as if they didn’t share years together. As if the growth they had with each other meant nothing to the world. As if everything they shared with each other was so miniscule to just be gone because of one accident.

And so he cries and cries. He lets the anguish come out. He lets the anger and hatred and pain come out with each choked sob.

It must have been a minute, five, or maybe thirty minutes, an hour.. He doesn’t know. He heaves himself out of his slumped position to sit on the floor, and he closes his eyes as he lets his head tilt back against the cool surface of the wall.

He’s just so tired from everything.

It’s only when he opens his eyes again does he see you standing a ways away, face fallen as if the world turned its back on you. And from the looks of it, he knows you saw his meltdown.

You approach him, taking small steps in an attempt to see if he’s going to drive you away, but he makes no move to stop you.

All the while, he keeps his tearful gaze on you as you kneel in front of him.

A fresh bout of tears breaks free from his eyes the moment you take his calloused palms into your careful hold.

“Kou,” you call his name softly. “This past year has been challenging for me… but I can’t even imagine how- how terrifying everything must have been for you.”

Your voice remains low, but he hears it loud and clear, and his heart clenches from how you’ve thought about him even when you can’t remember him.

“I know it’s not the same. I’m not the same, but Kou--,” you halt, and his eyes widen open upon seeing tears in your own pair. “I don’t remember you, but when I see you sad I-- I just can’t take seeing you sad.”

A choked sob escapes your throat, and his instincts tell him to pull you into his strong hold and he does. The warmth emanating from his body makes you relax into his familiar touch.

“I still don’t remember, and I don’t know if I ever will. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just-- I’m sorry,” your cries reach his ears, and he pulls you even closer to his chest, hugging you against him to ease your pain away.

You raise your palm to caress his jaw, prompting him to look at you, and he does. He looks at you as if you’re his whole world, memories be damned. Challenges be damned. Because now, as he looks at you, as he actually looks at you, he sees the same you that he fell in love with.

“My brain doesn’t know you the way it used to, but my heart… my heart knows you, Bokuto Koutarou.”

He sees the same you that he keeps falling in love with over and over every single day of his life.

And as your lips meet in a whispered confession of love shared only between the two of you, he finally comprehends just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

Memories be damned.

Challenges be damned.

But his luck? He’ll forever thank his lucky stars for bringing you into his life.

For as long as he has you by his side, he’ll forever remain the luckiest man alive.

#Gabe writes!!#Haikyuu #Bokuto #Bokuto Koutarou #Haikyuu x Reader #Bokuto x Reader #Bokuto Koutarou x Reader #Haikyuu angst #Bokuto angst #Bokuto Koutarou angst

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ssa-sugar-tits · 4 years

Text

queen of hearts // chapter four

summary: y/n y/l/n was crushed when she found out about maeve donovan. heartbroken, she left her entire life behind. what happens when she becomes the most prolific serial killer the bau has ever seen?

prologue + series masterlist & taglist

content warnings: swearing, angst, implied/mentioned sex, restraints, blood, head injury, kidnap/hostage, alcohol, gunshot, murder

a/n: reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know are experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

The room was filled with tension and an overwhelming sense of despair but no one said a word. No more hellish arguing, no irritatingly random facts, not even discussion to solve the case. Everyone worked on their angle of the case and despite the fact that no one would dare admit it, they all somewhat hoped that Y/N wouldn't be caught. Some hoped more than others but deep down they all felt a twinge of it. JJ walked into the room and spoke, startling the team and ripping them away from their thoughts and guilt.

"I've given a picture of her to the media, it's being circulated."

It pained her-- almost physically-- to have to hand over a picture of someone who'd been like family for so many goddamn years. She felt that she was betraying Y/N and that made her feel indescribably horrible.

"Now what? We just wait?" Morgan seemed to be the only one that really did want to stop her. Maybe he was angry that he hadn't seen the signs. Maybe he was angry that his best friend had just... left. Maybe he was angry that she lost herself so much. Maybe he blamed himself.

"What else is there to do Derek? Call me bad at my job- Hell, call all of us bad at our jobs but we can't profile her. Admit it, we're all biased. Too biased to think straight but there's no way we can give this case to another unit." Emily had always been so close to Y/N and was able to open up to her. Something she couldn't bring herself to do with most people. But you weren't most people, were you? Even with what Y/N could be doing, Emily doesn't have it in her to hate her. The sadness she was feeling must have shown because JJ squeezed Emily's hand and gave her a weak smile. And for the millionth fucking time, everyone stayed silent. Not even Spencer was saying anything and he is not the type to stay quiet this long. Believe it or not, that was actually one of the things Y/N had loved about him. Everyone rolled their eyes or cut him off but she loved to listen to him ramble. To everyone's surprise, she was always genuinely interested in what he had to say and that was one of the first things that made him fall in love with her. She never invalidated him or called him strange. Sometimes when she had a nightmare or experienced anxiety she'd even ask him talk to her about a random topic so she could focus on his voice until she calmed down.

"Your voice is like... honey. In my ears." Spencer wanted to scream with emotional torture building up as he remembered how she'd laughed when she said that and how he'd had smiled at her with nothing but adoration and love.

"That seems unsanitary Y/N."

"You're such a smartass."

"Am I?"

"Definitely. But it's ok. I love that about you. I love you."

"I love you too."

She'd planted a sweet kiss on his lips before laying her head on his lap and listening to the rest of his topic rant. Still basking in the memory of Y/N, a sharp pain entered his hand and he realized he'd dug his crescent nails into the palm of his hand. And in that moment, he couldn't help but think about how much he'd love to be holding her hand right now.

"Guys!"

They all turned to Garcia, the source of the exclaim, who was walking in with Hotch.

"A bartender downtown says he just saw a woman matching Y/N's description leave with another man."

"She's chosen another victim? Here?" Rossi asked with confusion written on his face. "Up until now she's only killed 2 people per state and knowing the BAU has been called in, why is she staying here?"

JJ stepped in,

"This place is special to her, she has history here. Y/N must have an endgame but what is it?"

"The profile says she'll take as many people as she can with her. Probably suicide by cop."

Derek had accepted the situation. So why did that hurt to say?

"Rossi will go to the bar and talk to witnesses. Reid and Prentiss, stay here with Garcia. JJ and Morgan, PD is surveilling the radius around the bar and setting up roadblocks, come with me to help them."

"There's no way I'm staying here." Spencer objected.

Stay here and do nothing? Like hell.

"Neither am I, what the hell Hotch?"

"Reid, Prentiss that's an order. You're not going."

They both started to argue again but Hotch had already left. JJ and Derek followed and Rossi stood up with to leave for the bar. Apologetic looks were shot at Spencer and Emily because they all know why they have to stay behind. They're the two closest to her, the two that wouldn't be able to keep their emotions from affecting them on the field. And with that, off they all went.

Y/N's POV

The second you get to his hotel room, your lips crash against the handsome stranger. Your next victim. He pushes you against the wall and you moan loudly. His hands roam your body and you pull back.

"Hey... Go lie on the bed and wait for me."

Panting and staring at you with lust, he complies. Of course he does.

For God's sake. This man doesn't even know your name.

To be fair, Spence didn't even know Maeve's last name. And he still chose her.

You walk over to the eager man on the bed. Your hot breath on his neck, you lean close and whisper to him.

"We're going to do things my way."

He moans and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at him in disgust.

"Yes ma'am."

Taking out a rope, you tie him up and you know he thinks you're just a kinky slut. That's what they all see, isnt it? Suddenly something roars inside of you. Forgetting your usual routine, you pick up the lamp on the bedside table and smash it against him. Crimson stains the bed and you drop it, shocked by yourself. Yes, you've done worse. But it isn't the act that's sending regret and nausea through your body, it's that you're devolving. You're losing control.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Starting to panic, you take the unconscious man and check for a pulse. He's still alive.

Giving him a shower (much to your disdain) and change of clothes, you put his arm over your shoulder and walk out of the room giggling as you pass one of the housekeepers.

"Baby, you're such a lightweight! Let's get you out of here."

The housekeeper barely gives you a second glace but when she enters the room of the man you've taken, she starts to scream and you know you're running out of time.

Run. Drag him. Just hurry the hell up.

Finally at his car, you take him to the small studio you own downtown. No one can find you here. It's been yours for nearly a decade and you aren't stupid enough to have told anyone about it or put it under your name. Granted, you'd never thought you'd have to use it to hide out from the feds, it's still useful. After taking a look at the brightly colored wall in your basement, you feel a sense of sudden pain race through your veins. You used to be normal. You used to have a life.

The man is chained up, gagged, and bleeding but you can't even remember doing anything to him. What you need is numbness. They thought the other bodies were bad? Wait til they fucking see what you do with him. Pain shoots through your skull again and you wince and fall to the ground.

"Fuck. I- I need a drink." you stammer to no one in particular but yourself.

A wig and sunglasses make you look different enough from the woman being circulated to take the bus to a nearby gas station. Walking down the liquor aisle of the store, you hum a song to yourself and let the AC blow on your skin. Vision blurred, you bite your lip and taste the unmistakable strong metallic taste of your own blood. Still humming that fucking song. The song you'd danced to with Spencer in your living room before you'd made love for the first time.

"You cannot be serious!"

"Y/N! I can't dance."

"Oh come on. How bad can you be? Seriously, the songs going to end and it'll be too late."

"Yes, that's what I'm hoping for."

"Psh. Don't tell me Doctor Reid is scared to sway around a little."

"Shut up."

"Make me." you laughed.

With one playful look, you dared him to shut you up in the most passionate, sensual way he could. But instead he put his warm hands on your hips and swayed to the song. You melted into his touch and your breaths synced as you laid your head on his chest. His heart beat was steady and calming. One hand reached for yours and intertwined before twirling you and pulling you back in to dance. He'd held you until it was over and brought your chin up to his face. The kiss was so intense, so loving. He tilted his head and pulled you tighter to get as close as he could to you. His tongue met yours and your mouths bathed in each other's taste. Running a hand through your hair, you'd started to unbutton his shirt. He'd been taken aback at first but then picked you up and placed you in the bedroom ever so softly. Placing gentle kisses all over each other's bodies and undressing for the other, you made raw, breathtaking love for the first of many times.

"Hey lady! Get out of the way!"

"W-What?..." You tremble and realize you're crying on the floor of the aisle.

"I said get out of the damn way, some of us got places to be."

The man is clearly batshit drunk. Probably here to buy his next fix. Shaking and letting yourself actually feel your emotions, you stand and use the wall to balance yourself. The man that yelled at you curses to himself as his phone rings and he picks it up.

"Hell do you want? Thought you were still mad about Andrea."

Andrea? Mad about Andrea. Another cheater. Another liar. Right? It has to be.

Before you can process what you're doing-- how irrational it is-- the gunshot rings through the store and everyone turns to see the man before you on the ground, screaming and spitting blood. A mix of a laugh and a sob escapes you and you scream.

"Everyone on the fucking ground! If I see any cellphones, I'll shoot you just like this dickhead. Got it?"

Frightened people drop to the ground and you start to yell, incoherent bullshit again. You smash the freezer glass behind you and open an expensive bottle of bourbon.

You practically whimper having to take deep gasps in between words, but in a somehow still confident, fearless tone.

"Now let's have some fucking fun."

But what you didn't know was that the cashier in the front had sent a text 5 minutes earlier.

Call 911! The girl from the news, the Queen of Hearts. She's in the store.

What you didn't know was that the woman that recieved the text had called immediately.

911, what's your emergency?

What you didn't know was that the BAU was on their way.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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my-strange-attraction · 3 years

Note

hi~~

I've seen you give advice to other anons and you seem like you really know what you're talking about so I hope you don't mind me asking for some advice.

ATM I identity as aroace. I've never had a proper crush despite already being a hs junior and I really thought I never could but I might have found an exception and now I'm very confused. I have for sure realized that I am ace so it's just the aro part of my identity I'm struggling with. There's his guy in school and we are friends but I think I might have feelings for him, I'm just not sure what feelings they are. We talk a lot and we're pretty close considering how little time it's been since we've been friends. I'm just not sure if I actually have a crush or if I'm just fixating on him because I don't have a lot of guy friends. I'm Desi, and it's been pretty hard to feel "desirable" as a girl living in America so I'm worried I might just be craving male validation. I had some issues with my gender identity a few months ago for a similar reason, not feeling connected to the western image of femininity, so I'm worried this might be caused by a similar sentiment

Hi anon! Ok so these are some really good questions (questions? ponderings? idk) and it reminds me a lot of some stuff I went through in high school in regards to sexual/ romantic identity and also some stuff I've gone through more recently in regards to my gender identity. Now, I know this advice is going to sound so basic but it's really helped me out in the long run and I think it's probably what you need to hear too: In the end, it doesn't matter where your feelings are coming from--they're still your feelings, and you should follow them and do what makes you happy regardless.

Let me expand a bit on that. I can see you're doing a lot of questioning of yourself and your motivations, and questioning of what you're feeling. I know it goes against everything you've heard here on The Hellsite™ but I need for you not to analyze yourself and try to parse out where your feelings are coming from. Ask yourself: does it really matter why you don't feel connected to your agab? Will knowing it's because you're Desi change the way you feel? Will it change the fact that your self perception of your gender doesn't line up with the western image of femininity? Probably not, so what's the point on analyzing it?

Now I know that was just an example of something in the past, so let's apply it to this current situation. Feelings for people are a bit more tricky than feelings about yourself, so it's not an exact method (and I have some more to add to this advice after this) but consider your feelings for this friend. If you enjoy hanging out with him and you're close with him and you know you feel some sort of feelings for him, how much will it help to analyze where these feelings are coming from? If he makes you happy to hang out with him and gives you some sort of warm fuzzy feelings, does it really matter if you're just fixating on him because he's a guy? They're still your feelings, whether they come from a place of liking him as a person or if they're helped out by the fact that he's a guy and you don't have many guy friends.

Now, just because we've established the validity of your feelings doesn't mean you have to do anything about them. There's this idea that society has ingrained in us that if you have a feeling about someone you need to follow that, and that's just not true. Sometimes the timing is right, or sometimes you know it wouldn't actually work out no matter what your feelings are trying to tell you, or a billion other scenarios that I won't type out because this is, of course, getting long because I'm me.

No matter what, it seems like you guys have a solid friendship, and you having some sort of feelings doesn't have to change that. If you want it to change, then that's great, and he seems like someone you can trust not to hurt you from what you've told me, but if you still think you've got some work to do on yourself, in figuring out who you are, in getting more comfortable with your identities, or getting more comfortable with not fully knowing or understanding your identities, then that's cool too.

The advice I've given you today isn't a one size fits all and I'm not super experienced in this stuff myself, but what I do know is that nothing in high school sticks past graduation. I had a similar situation to you where I thought I had a crush on a guy because he was my first guy friend ever and it went on for a while. Nothing ever became of it because we weren't that close but thinking back on it, even if I had dated him and then realized I was very, very aroace, I'd still be in the same place I am now. High school (and college for that matter, seriously why am I acting like I'm so much older, I'm literally still a sophomore in college) is a very exploratory period in your life and if you spend all that time constantly questioning your own motivations I think you're taking it too seriously. Have fun, make mistakes, figure yourself out somewhere along the way. Better to do it all now than when it actually matters, right?

I hope this helped and wasn't too long, anon. You can definitely always come to me for advice and I'll do my best to help out from my own experiences. Also anyone who has some additional advice, you know you're always welcome to add on!

#ask #anon #advice #aroace #cloudy rambles

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suganovakawa · 4 years

Note

Hello I wanna say that I love ur work 🥺 I’m new to the haikyuu fandom and ur work gives me life! Can I request a HC with Tanaka, Daichi, Suga & asahi and how they would react when they see other teams at a tournament flirt with you and how they act when they’re jealous? Thank you !

absolutely omg i love my karasuno babies and them being jEALOUS??? this is my calling goodBYE

btw btw welcome to the hq fandom bby !! enjoy your stay here 🥺💞💘💓

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅𝐅 !

karasuno boys fend off other teams as they try to flirt with you !

— check out my masterlist !!

these boys don’t take too kindly to other teams trying to flirt with you . . . and they’re not gonna deal with it for much longer ! >:)

a / n : jealous anything >>>> and you cannot change my mind because it’s my weakness k thx bye 🥰

— ask to be added to my taglist !!

taglist : @yams046 @janellion

ryuunosuke tanaka

lmao flirting w you is like asking for a death sentence i do not make the rules

tanaka is not afraid to show you off , nor is he afraid to show off your guys’ relationship at tournaments either

he has full trust in you dw , but that doesn’t mean he trusts the men that get a little too close for comfort

if his death glare alone doesn’t scare them off i feel so sorry for them

ryu will 100% call someone out if they’re obviously flirting with you

“ hey , punk ??? you’re trying to flirt with them , huh ??? gotta tell ya , you’re out of luck , go find someone else . this hot stuff right here is mine , thank you very much . ”

he gets so confused when you get embarrassed because what ??? he’s just telling them the truth

“ ryu ! you can’t just call me ‘ hot stuff ’ in the middle of the gym !! ”

“ why not , baby ? you are hot stuff ! they’re just bummed out you’re not theirs . ”

not to mention , 8 times out of 10 noya will probably be right there with tanaka scaring off the suitors

those two are literally your bodyguards , and once they know that someone else has their sights set on you , do not expect them to leave your side

also , he holds a FULL GRUDGE against ladies men type people

cough cough tooru i’m talking bout u bby

you are to stay a mile away from oikawa and all of aoba johsai at all times , ryu will not accept otherwise

oh , and terushima ??? YEAH HES NOT EVEN GONNA LAY EYES ON YOU ONCE LMAO

at least , not without tanaka’s arm wrapped around your waist

gotta make sure they understand you ain’t on the market

all in all a very protective baby crow , can and will fight anyone who tries flirting with you so pls don’t test him

daichi sawamura

daichi is definitely the silent but deadly type let me assure you

i don’t care where that man is , he’ll always have an eye on you regardless

oh and he’ll probably have the rest of his team have their eyes on you too ; just in case there is a small instance where he can’t keep his eyes on you

yuu , ryu , and shoyo will be paying the most attention to you when the captain is not able to watch over you at the tournaments

lord have mercy to those who somehow actually get past daichi’s security

my best guess is that you’re probably on like , a water bottle run in between games , so that everyone can have fresh cold water during timeouts n whatnot

yeah you’ll probably get hit on by another guy in the halls ( let’s pretend it’s yuuji because i love him so much LMAO pls hit on me teru )

anyway he’ll def be at your neck like how he was tryna get kiyoko’s number

sadly you can’t do much because you have a bunch of water bottles in your hands so you’re just tryna shimmy away but terushima is not having it

out of nowhere his face blanks

literally pales

you’re about to ask him what that’s about until you feel an arm snake around your waist

like i said , the silent but deadly type

you can’t see daichi’s face as he’s staring down yuuji , but you can hear the annoyance in his voice

“ oh there you are , y/n . you need help carrying these water bottles , baby ? ”

you turn to yuuji , who has his hands up — clearly getting the message daichi was giving to him

“ alright alright , my bad ~ ! didn’t know they were yours , man . i’ll take my leave . ”

but he did add a “ see you later cutie ” before leaving the two of you alone

you couldn’t help but laugh as the captain latched onto you protectively as the two of you went back to the gym

“ daichi , it’s okay , he’s gone now ! you’ve done your job in saving me ”

“ nonsense . i can sense their eyes on you from everywhere . you’re not leaving my sight again , y/n . ”

koushi sugawara

koushi is definitely also a silent jealous type

but he’s more mellow when showing it subtly

but don’t get me wrong , the effect it leaves on others is just as menacing

he’s the type to leave that shiver of fear when he shows up

basically he’s a sweetie until people mess with you and that’s just on periodt

suga is not too protective over you , since he does trust you and has full confidence you won’t do anything to hurt him

cough cough he still wants the other nasty boogers keeping their hands off you though

i literally just imagine him going up to people like “ :))))) ??? ” when people try flirting with you LMAO

like ?? no ??? they’re ??? mine ????

not ???????? yours ??????

he’ll have that chilling ring in his voice that’s deadpan but menacing at the same time — sometimes he even scares you with it

you had a run in with tooru at the preliminaries , RIP bless his soul

you went to go watch a match while karasuno was resting ; seijoh was resting at the same time

he got a little too close for comfort in the audience stand

flashed you a famous smile of his , “ what’s a cutie like you doing here alone ? ”

“ she’s not alone , actually . ”

KFKKDKFKFKD both of your heads went a whole 180 at the sound of koushi’s voice

oh no he had that creepy smile again

“ baby , we were just looking for you . is oikawa bothering you ? ”

he turned his :) to tooru , who had already stepped a decent distance away from you

“ heaven forbid you’d be bothering y/n , oikawa , when you have a whole fanbase of girls you could be bothering instead . ”

the great king had never been so scared of a karasuno player in his life

he left in a hurry without saying much — though he was grumbling something you two couldn’t understand

switch from scary suga to soft suga uwu

he wrapped his arms around you and grinned pleasantly this time as he hugged you

“ sweetheart , don’t hesitate to tell me if anyone else is like that to you , okay ? i’ll make them go away . ”

“ koushi , you’re so scary when you’re angry ”

“ i am ? i didn’t think i was ”

“ look at how oikawa backed away when you came up ! hardly anyone can phase him ”

“ oh . maybe i am scary , but only when it comes to you . ”

he laughed and took you by the hand , and you two walked back to the rest of the team

scary suga never fails to keep the nasty boogers away

asahi azumane

he won’t even realize he’s jealous until someone points it out to him

i think nishi would be the one to point it out to him , because woah asahi looks mad

“ yo , asahi ? you good ? your knuckles are turning white ! ”

he’s been looking your direction ever since the date tech players started surrounding you , striking up conversation

he didn’t even realize yuu was talking to him until he literally had to jump up and wave in his face

asahi snapped out of it once noya caught his attention — his fists were still clenched tho

“ oh — noya . i’m fine , why ? ”

the libero didn’t buy it one bit because he didn’t know the ace even had it in him to be angry

he looked to where asahi had his eyes on the whole time before turning back to the third year with a smirk

“ you’re gonna let them just flirt with y/n like that ? what kind of boyfriend are you ? go go go ! ”

oh no yuu what did you do

“ they’re flirting with y/n ? ”

he was f u r i o u s at the thought of it

oh no no no they were not going to be flirting with you , not while asahi was your boyfriend no sir

he stormed over towards you — your back was towards karasuno so the date tech players noticed him first

asahi + scary dark death glare = run

and the date tech players — besides aone — did just that , scampering off in a hurry

you were confused until you turned around , smiling when you saw your giant teddy bear of a boyfriend

you were utterly oblivious to the stare down between him and aone

“ asahi ! shouldn’t you be practicing now ? ”

he placed a gentle but firm arm around your waist , pulling you closer to him without taking his eyes off date tech’s ace

“ yeah , but we were looking for you . i’ve come to bring you back , y/n . ”

oh heck yeah there was tension as he brought you back to your guys’ court

“ those players weren’t flirting with you , were they y/n ? ”

“ huh ? oh no ! i was just catching up with a couple of them , since i went to middle school with some of them . why ? ”

“ oh , nothing ”

you couldn’t even ask him anything else as he walked away without another word , which was very not like him

you had to get the answer from nishinoya later on , who was laughing hysterically at your description of the way your boyfriend was acting

“ OMG Y/N HE REALLY WAS JEALOUS , I TOLD HIM THAT DATE TECH WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU I CANT BELIEVE HE BELIEVED ME ”

after the tournament both of you were blubbering apologies to each other

you apologizing for making asahi jealous

and asahi apologizing for acting like a brat about it

in summary , asahi + jealousy = pls save yourself from that man he is terrifying

he’ll make it up to you with tons n tons of cuddles later so he’s still your big teddy bear <3

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Text

Right Back Where You Started

[Masky/Timothy Wright X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight blood, slight violence, language]

[AN: Four of my OC's are in here! This was also requested from a friend a while ago.]

The beauty about being able to live a life outside of murdering people and being at the whim of a monster that fancies itself as a god is a variety of your own accord.

For instance, you can wake up whenever you feel like, take a job wherever there’s openings, meet new people and not have to bash their brains in just for asking about your life and only need to pick up a blade to cut food or occasionally packages you impulsively bought on the nights that feel like too much and not enough all in one. You can breathe and not worry about inky black tendrils crushing your throat for doing so without his permission. You’re able to sleep at night knowing that no higher up in your group will attempt to kill you in an act of proxy related hazing. You can clear your mind temporarily of the thoughts of what may come next in trade for semi-normalcy even though you know those thoughts won’t go away anytime soon. The weight of what you’d done was too much to bear, and Atlas can only disappear for so long.

When you first decided to betray your boss, the tall man in the woods, the faerie that steals children away, you acted on impulse. It was an impulse that was born from being all too exhausted with risking your life, committing sin upon sin and other terrible, no good things that should ever be uttered. The decision you made on impulse had no foresight or planning, and when you decided to run, you ran as far and as hard as you could away from him. Away from them. Away from it all. Of course, you know there were going to be repercussions for running like so few others did.

The ire of the Slender Man being the worst.

Most days, you try not to think of him. There’s no point - well, maybe there is a healthy fear you still have - but to worry yourself into a stupor would be silly now. You’ve been free of him for a year. He hasn’t sent you any signs, nor has he sent anyone… Maybe you weren’t important enough to set him off like some of the others had.

These are the things you like to think about as you sit on your couch watching the late night news that’s barely audible as you scroll through your phone. You never really did like the total silence an empty house provides. There’s a simmer cup of tea on the coffee cup and a few snacks laid out that you have little plans of eating while you relax and enjoy the midsummer night. Outside, you can hear crickets sing and cicadas accompany them. It’s peaceful, and while your mind would like to think of it as such, you can’t ignore the ringing in the back of your head. Things have been pleasant, too pleasant. There’s bound to be a storm due to roll in.

Still, you try not to think of these things, and instead focus on the content that scrolls in and out of your vision. It’s nothing particularly interesting, but helps get your mind off the things that often keep you up. And you continue to sit there on the couch, wrapped up in a light blanket to combat your AC as the hours of the night tick by. Your mind is completely off of really, any higher cognitive thought, when you hear something. It’s soft, low, sounds like two, maybe three people and they’re out in the distance. Must just be stumbling onto the borders of your ‘farm’.

See, the funny thing about trying to integrate into normal human life is that you physically can’t. You can follow all their customs, get into their society, look like them, but you’ll never be fully human. You want to know why? Proxies can never go back to what they used to be. They’re forever changed, and no force on heaven of earth can ever get rid of that. He can take your memory and dump you on the side of the road, but your biology has forever been changed. In most cases, it’s a nice thing to have: faster healing, better pain tolerance, heightened senses, and a better sense of problem solving than most people. Other days, it’s a hindrance for reasons you can’t quite explain. Some call it Slender Sickness, and the only way to remedy it is to be under the tall man’s care.

Because you’re not, you’ve found other ways to remedy the sickness he inflicts on practically everything he touches. Pills. You find them in odd, strange places, but they get the job done. So long as you have them, you can be free of his grasp and his connection.

But goddamn, the hearing is mostly a hindrance. On the account of you living on the edge of a college town, you’ve got land and are surrounded by farmer’s fields. You heat it all- critters in the night, teens messing with the patches, arguments, sometimes crimes, and it keeps you up at night. That’s a downside to not having him in your life- he’s not there to dampen its effects when it becomes too much. However, in this specific instance, your heightened hearing is a blessing.

The feeling in your gut only furls together tighter as you hear the three strolling down your dirt road. They’re close, much too close. You know that they’re here for you.

Frantically, you jump off the couch and start to damage control by making the place look like no one inhabits it. The TV and lights are turned off, the mug emptied of its contents, snacks put away and other leads buried. Your heart pounds a mile a minute - you know that if he finds you, it’s all over.

He’ll kill you - the Slender Man is not known for his mercy.

You feel like a chicken with its head cut off as you look around the house for weapons before settling on the kitchen knife. It’s cliché and reminds you of someone you once heard whispers about, but it’s all you can think of in this moment. When you left this life, you left the physical parts of it as well. All your gear, weapons, they’re hidden in a place that’s too risky for you to even attempt getting. Armed with the kitchen knife, you debate running out the back or hiding, then running. You always were good at staying out of sight, hiding it is.

Your eyes dart to the basement door and you slip through right as you hear the three outside your front door. There’s a window that opens in the direction of the town. If you slip out of it, you’ll be able to get a good headtstart through the field. The moment you start booking it down the stairs, you hear your front door get blown open.

“Wallace, what do you think?” You hear a male’s voice ask.

“Someone’s been in here recently,” a deeper male voice responds - must be Wallace, eyeing over your living room.

In the darkness, you quietly maneuver the crowded, cluttered basement, mentally cursing you left your phone upstairs in your haste.

“It feels like someone’s been in here,” Wallace’s voice continues. You can practically hear him smelling the air. “Ruth, tell Nyein to sniff this one out.”

You hear boots scuff against your wooden floor and stop somewhere in the doorway. “You could always just ask them yourself,” the female voice identified as Ruth verbally shrugs. She clicks her tongue, and you hear even more steps. How many of these people are there? You hope it’s just four. That’s a well sized group, come to think of it. “Ny, can you please sniff this one out? Seems like they’ve done a good job at scent covering.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Don’t give us any attitude,” the first male voice hisses slightly. “Do what you’re told-”

“Theo,” Wallace sharply reprimands.

You hear Theo sigh right as you reach the window. You pray to whatever deity will have you that it won’t squeak or make any loud noises, but the thing hasn’t been opened in gods know how long. You use the blade to lightly cut through the layers of off-white paint before the window is free. You mentally smile before attempting to lift it.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Nyein got your scent. Their pupils dilate upon realizing you’re the one the Slender Man has requested alive. You hear someone rapidly padding to the basement.

Panic fills your veins as you struggle to get the window open, not even caring that it’s making all the noise in the world. You need to get out!

“She padlock this thing?” You hear Ruth ask before she grunts. The door can’t hold them back forever.

You frantically push up on the window - it's a quarter open, not near enough for you to slip through. Shit, shit, shit! You need to go NOW.

“Jesus- just break it already,” Wallace sighs.

A few more grunts and you hear the wood splinter. You hear them descending the steps quickly.

“There!” Theo points.

You hold your breath and push the window up with all your strength before hosting yourself up.

“Shit! Out the front! Ny, keep on her,” Wallace commands as he smacks Ruth and Theo’s shoulder, the two quickly following him up the stairs.

You begin to shimmy out the narrow window as the being called ‘Nyein’ eyes you down. You don’t think you’ve ever seen an independent like that before. They look absolutely feral, and the scent of you has them locked on your crawling form.

Their eyes narrow, teeth bared, and they quickly lunge across the space for you, right as your legs reach the windowsill.

You cry out in surprise as their clawed hand digs into your ankle, drawing blood you know you can’t afford to worry about.

“Get off!” You shout in retaliation, kicking at their face. Freed, you begin to sprint into the field.

Nyein snarls and crawls out the window as well, running after you with a speed that has you on edge. You continue to run. Behind you, you can hear the other three quickly gaining on you as well. How badly does the Slender Man want you? Your lungs light on fire as they chase you through the field. Soon, you’ll be hitting the small stretch of trees before you reach the town. With other people, you’ll have a better chance at being safe. But the stretch of woods is an awful mess of brush and loose soil. You can’t afford to misstep now.

You take in a deep breath as you hurl into the small stretch of trees, all too aware of the proxies and independent that are hot on your trail. In the back of your head, you can tell they’re tired of you. Good. They should be. You narrowly avoid twisted roots and piles of mud and grow closer and closer to other people.

It’s so close that you can almost touch it.

Lost in your thoughts and too tunnel visioned in on reaching the town, you fail to recognize the steel jaw trap in the darkness and send your shoe right on it. It clamps down, bites, and holds you. You screech and fall forward, careening into the forest floor. The pain in your leg is absolutely agonizing, and you claw at it in vain to free yourself as your pursuers close in on you.

“Gave us quite the chase, Reader,” Wallace says with a slight scowl as he crouches a healthy distance from you. “Should let you rot here,” he muses. You can’t see his face both from the darkness of the night and the fact he’s wearing a mask, but you can tell he’s upset.

“Or let Ny eat her. Been a while since they’ve last had anything,” Theo adds on, glaring at you through the eyeholes of his mask that’s the head of a pig.

“He said he wanted her alive,” Ruth chimes in, a sigh in her tone. “She’s already fucked herself up enough, let’s not rub salt in the wounds.”

“Put her to sleep then,” Wallace shrugs.

You look up at these people like a caged animal, your eyes narrowing and slightly watering at the pain of the steel jaw trap. You feel yourself inching closer and closer to the earth subconsciously as Nyein eyes you like a prize.

\ They reach their hand out to touch you before you smack them away. Their snarl, their eyes traveling down to your ankle where the blood smells the strongest.

“Do it before they eat her,” The deep voiced man says again. “Though, last I checked, Ny doesn’t eat proxies.”

“She’s a traitor, not a proxy,” Ruth lightly corrects, her gaze alone shushing you from making any noise.

Not wanting to work yourself up, you settle for cursing them under your breath.

Without any other words, Ruth comes up to you, resting her boot on your chest to keep you down. You attempt to grab at her leg, throw her off balance, but she’s stronger than you on account of still being an active proxy. Her dark eyes scan you up and down before she reaches into her back pocket. “Take a deep breath for me,” she murmurs before smacking the rag to your mouth and nose.

You flail about, screaming and cursing before reluctantly taking that breath.

“... Thank you, you’ve done well. Head out to - yes, that’s right, Theo - head there and I will give you further instruction.”

You blearily come to on the carpet of an office you hoped you’d never be back in. The smell of jasmine and incense hangs in the air. You hear a door shut and catch the boots of the people who brought you back to him leave the room. He must be sending them out to their next assignment; it’s probably some poor other bastard that won’t escape like you did. You take in a few timid breaths and allow the light to filter in.

There he is, your boss. He stands in front of you like a god. He has no face, but you can tell he’s more than upset.

“Miss Reader, what a pleasure,” he says in a deep, authoritarian tone.

On instinct, you feel yourself shrinking.

“Really?” He muses, inky black tendrils sprouting from his back. “You have the nerve to run from me, suppress me, and now you do this? You dare show your submission?” He hisses. The tendrils move like bolts of electricity as they wrap around your exhausted, terrified form.

You cringe as the tendrils take over every part of you, squeezing as if they’re threatening to break your bones if you so much as breathe out of turn. Tears well in your eyes as you remember the fear you used to feel rushing back and overloading your senses.

“You’re absolutely pathetic,” he spits as the tendril wrapped around your neck begins to constrict. You notice his body language bristle as he looks at you longer. “I could pop your eyeballs out of your sockets. I could tear you limb for limb,” the Slender Man continues like it’s nothing.

You feel nothing but malice radiate off his form. It’s heat that singes your very soul. “S-Sir,” you gasp out. “Why would you b-bring me here just to k-kill me?” You attempt to reason, eyes watering and vision going fuzzy. You weakly attempt to use your fingers as a barrier between the constrictor and you. You can’t take this low oxygen any longer - not with him physically inhibiting you.

A cold chuckle reverbates in your head while the vision of wolf’s teeth smile at you, as if they’re ready to snap. “You always were smart,” he notes, loosening his grip ever so slightly. “I could rip your head from your shoulders and it would make none of the difference.”

“Answer my observation,” you weakly cough out before he holds you tighter. You struggle to move your limbs. Your blood feels hot.

“Masky,” he suddenly calls out, hand gesturing to his office doors.

You’re barely able to move your head and settle on shifting your eyes instead to those large, oak doors as they open just a crack.In slips a man in a tan coat. He’s got dark hair, bags under his eyes, and he looks exhausted - more exhausted than you feel. He doesn’t look at you but instead focuses on the Slender Man.

“Sir,” he greets, bowing his head slightly in reverence.

The Slender Man hums, clearly pleased. You see the wolf’s jaws smile in your mind’s eye.

“Reader, you will be under his care now,” the Slender Man says. “If you successfully spend half a year at his side, I will reconsider tearing you apart.” He says it so nonchalantly that you feel chills run up and down your spine.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

“Do you oppose me?” The Slender Man asks. “I am being more than generous, aren’t I?”

“Don’t take this offer for granted,” you hear Masky quietly add. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, you can hear Masky telling you not to push him too far.

Hesitantly, you nod, voice too weak to say anything physically.

The Slender Man’s tendrils suddenly retract from you, sending you roughly to the carpeted floor.

You yelp as you come into contact with the carpet and slowly gather yourself as you try to push down the aches and pains that bloom on your joints and shins that hit the ground particularly hard. You cough a bit as air returns to your lungs and struggle to stand.

“Do what you must,” the Slender Man waves off, turning his back to both you and Masky.

Masky finally breaks from his stance and moves quickly to your side to help you up.

At first, you try to smack his hand away, but upon realizing you’re too weak to even see straight, accept his hand and his arm when you’re standing upright. He smells of cigarettes and some out of date cologne. It’s not bad.

The two of you hobble out of the Slender Man’s office with Masky’s eyes never leaving your form. After all, you are his responsibility now. He continues to lead you through a mansion you’ve grown to despise and out into the warm summer morning. The Slender Man could never imitate the beauty of earth to its entirety, that much was apparent.

“Where are we going?” You ask in a rough voice, attempting in vain to clear it by coughing.

“Stop that,” Masky sighs as the two of you cross the lawn. “To the parking lot, getting in the car, then driving across the border to Mississippi. We’ve got a temp there,” he murmurs. “You good?” He’s mentally wondering why your healing hasn’t damage controlled this yet. Probably the boss still being mad at you is the best reason he can come up with.

“Do I look like I’m good?” You dryly respond, eyes squinting slightly as the fog begins to kick up. You know you’re reaching the end of his reach. Once the fog clears up almost as quickly as it appeared, you realize the Slender Man’s practically kicked you both out of his realm. The walk was always longer when you truly were his. He must be severely pissed off at you. In a way, you’re lucky he didn’t kill you from the get go.

It’s best not to dwell on that thought though.

The rest of the walk is quiet and you’re in the car before you can count to 100 (your numbers are very jumbled though). You slide into the passenger seat and feel a little better at being able to rest.

Masky slides into the driver’s seat and sighs as he grips the wheel. “You have any questions, you ask them now in the car. I’m not putting up with your bullshit when we get to the temp.”

You roll your eyes and look out the window. “Who are you?”

“Masky, you heard him,” he’s pulling out of the parking lot and mentally thanking the gods he wasn’t killed alongside you. When the boss is in such a questionable mood, there’s no telling what’ll happen.

“You know damn well what I meant,” you cough slightly.

Masky scoffs before reaching into the backseat for a moment. His fingertips brush a water bottle, and upon realizing that’s what it is, grasps it and then tosses it to you.

You nod and take a sip, mentally frowning that the water’s been heated in the morning summer sun.

“I’m a group leader. Probably haven’t heard of us though, we’re not terribly monumental,” he begins as he flicks the turn signal on. “You’ve got three other people to watch out for. Hoodie, he’s the right hand, Toby, he’s essentially our middle child, and Kate. You’re replacing her and the hazing process will start up,” he finishes, now matching pace with the other cars that sparsely decorate the expressway.

You pout slightly and press your lips into a thin line as you gaze out the window at the rolling scenery. You’ve been here before. You’ve brought people back here this exact way before. They’re all unwanted memories. In response, your body language becomes unreadable.

This does not go unnoticed by Masky. “Yeah the attitude isn't gonna work,” he says as he glances over at you. “C’mon, you’ve been through this process before. We all have - what gives?”

With a sigh, you flick your eyes over to him to gauge his mood. He seems genuinely curious. “You do know that I ran away for a reason, right?”

Masky nods. “Sure, it was stupid though.” He takes a hand off the wheel for a moment to open his window. “What did you think would happen?” Sounds like he’s trying to pick at your brain.

“Anything but this,” you gesture angrily to your current situation. “I hoped to never see him again,” you groan, clearly frustrated. You chug some more water.

Masky breathes out slightly, as if he’s judging your answers. “Whatever. Forget about pulling something like that again because I’ll personally come after you if it comes to that,” he claims in a tone that’s far too serious.

You roll your eyes slightly, “sure, like you’ll-”

His eyes shift on the expressway, and after ensuring there’s no one that’ll cause a pile up on behalf of him, he hits the brakes, sending you lurching forward into the dashboard.

“What the hell?” You cry out in an exasperated tone, struggling to peel yourself up from the dashboard. You cry out in shock again as you feel his hand at the back of your head, successfully grinding your skull into the heated polyvinyl chloride.

“Get that thought of your fucking head,” he hisses, raising your head slightly before smacking it back down.

You growl back and relent. Once the pressure from his arm is gone, you shove him off of you. The car picks up pace again and you notice him wave to a person who passes by - they have a mildly concerned expression - and he smiles like he didn’t just slam your skull into PVC.

Welcome back to the proxy life.

You make it to Mississippi by mid afternoon. Masky brings the car down some dirt path where a house lays right on the Mississippi river, and you can smell traces of blood. They must’ve cleared the previous residents out.

There, on the porch in a muscle tee holding a can of coke is a man with his left cheek missing. He twitches slightly as he waves at you and Masky.

“T-This her?”

Masky nods.

“Can’t b-believe she g-g-gave Wallace’s g-g-group the s-slip,” he says in a slightly amused, slightly annoyed tone.

“Word travels that fast?” Masky replies with a slight chuckle.

The proxy before you nods with a small smile, “c’mon. I wanna g-g-get out of this h-heat. It’s a-a-awful out here,” he says with a playful grimace as he slowly rises from the front step where he had been sitting.

“Is Kate happy?” Masky asks as he watches Toby head in, then nods for you to go.

With a small frown, you do so. At least it’s air conditioned.

“Over the moon,” a feminine voice cuts in from the kitchen. She’s stirring a thing of lemonade.

Masky smiles slightly and takes a seat at the table. “We weren’t that bad,” Masky notes as Kate slides a glass of lemonade to the group leader.

She raises a brow at Toby who glances down to his open pop can. “So, this is the one he wanted alive for this term?” She questions as she glances at you, silently asking if you’d like some.

You mouth a ‘please’ before getting comfortable at the table.

“Weirdly, yeah,” Masky replies before taking a languid sip. “Thought he was gonna go for someone with more street cred, but, whatever. She’s our problem now,” he shrugs.

You look down into the pastel yellow liquid and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance. All of this, it was wrong. You hadn’t had to play by proxy rules in a year, and here you were, bottom of the rung, the runt. You hadn’t been a runt in gods know how long.

Conversation begins to flow between the three people around you as glasses of lemonade are poured. You sit in silence, listening because you know it’s not your place to speak. As far as proxy culture goes, you don’t really have any rights. Well, you’re in a better place than independents, but according to other proxies, you’re a glorified errand boy. They say to jump and you’re supposed to ask ‘how high?’ Your group’s word becomes gospel.

Apparently, Kate was this group’s runt before you came in. But, runts only stay runts for a certain amount of time. It’s possible for groups to not have runts - and that’s essentially what this group was doing. Kate had outgrown her runt status and was well considered the youngest (in experience) member of their group but had the same social standing as Toby. While it was a joke to refer to her as a runt, they hadn’t had one for a while.

That’s where you come in. You’re the first member to be considered a runt in quite some time. And you can tell they’ve been itching to take it out on someone.

“Where’s Hoodie?” Masky asks as his fingertips trace the lip of his glass. “Should be thrilled to see we’ve got another one.”

“Only t-thing holding h-him back from h-hurting you is the f-f-f-fact the O-Operator asked f-f-for us to t-take her,” Toby giggles slightly as he crushes another pop can. “He’s h-h-handling something, Should be c-c-coming back now, though.”

“Speak of the devil and the devil will appear,” you hear another man’s voice chuckle as the front door swings gently open.

Standing in the doorway holding a crowbar and wearing a white t-shirt is Hoodie - sans hoodie. It’s much too hot to be wearing one anyways. He haphazardly tosses the crowbar to the floor before closing the front door behind him, then begins walking towards the kitchen.

“This is her?” He asks as he takes a seat next to Masky, silently thanking Kate for the lemonade.

“Disappointing, right?” Kate lightly jokes, making Hoodie smile.

“In this form, sure,” Hoodie observes as his hazel eyes rake over your form. “She looks weak, scrawny, low endurance, probably forgot all her skills, what, with her being missing for a year?” He says it like it’s a game but looks at you like he despises you. “Not training her. Not my problem, and especially not in this heat.”

“She’s part of our group,” Masky replies in a slightly exasperated tone.

“No-Nose goes,” Toby suddenly blurts out.

Everyone presses their index to their nose except for Masky, who sighs dejectedly.

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles. “Let’s go, Reader. You’ve been awfully quiet.” The brown haired man says in a less than pleased tone, picking his glass up and momentarily pausing to place it in the sink.

You quietly follow in suit, nodding to your other comrades before following him out.

The nice thing about waiting for Hoodie to stir things up was that it was the late afternoon. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, and a breeze was beginning to shift through the air. It wasn’t near as hot due the sun no longer beating down on you. Besides, it was nice to get out of the house for a bit.

Masky and his group must have been staying here for a while, because he walked into the woods on this deer path like it was nothing and led you to a clearing. There were a few training things, but nothing of any substance - just a temporary fix until they were somewhere more permanent. Proxies are nomadic, after all.

“You still have a knife on you?”

“I would’ve stabbed you with it.”

He shoots you a look as if to tell you to watch your mouth and you holds your hands up.

“I’m joking,” you defend. “When I meant I wanted to never look back, I truly, deep down to my bones, meant it.”

Masky’s hand goes to his belt loop where he takes out a knife. It’s… severely dulled. Looks like he doesn’t trust you just yet.

“See that dummy? Show me what you remember and I’ll decide if we’re out here until midnight or not.”

The dummy in question looks gods awful. It’s missing an arm, the stuffing is all over the grass, and the poor thing looks like it can’t support its own weight anymore. You wonder which one of your comrades got it to this state of if this was a group effort.

You narrow your eyes and get a hold of the blade in your grasp. It’s much nicer than a kitchen knife - reminds you of what you used to use when you were but a shadow in the night. You glance at him, then the dummy, and decide to get to work.

There’s no use in running. The Slender Man will hunt you down regardless, and he won’t be as merciful the second time around.

“Stop stalling,” Masky chides.

You take in a breath, and do as told.

To say six months passed with ease would be a lie. It’s been six months of hell - and that’s mostly because you’re a runt paired with the fact you never wanted to be back here to begin with.

It’s been strange, you’ll give it that. The proxy in you took over faster than the human side of you could and you integrated back into proxy culture and society far easier than anyone expected. Of course, there were some moments where your group members would ruffle your feathers and put you in your place, but that was expected. To be a proxy is to be put under fire until you prove yourself otherwise.

You’ve gone on operations with them. Took lives again. Stole things again. You settled back into the life you originally left behind as if you’d never departed to begin with. That’s how deep the proxy mindset and muscle memory is embedded into those it takes hold of. It sets itself out to be the only thing you’ll ever know. You live by it, you die by it.

So, where have you been for the past six months? Well, still in Mississippi. About two weeks after you first arrived with your new group, you and the group moved down south near the ocean and have been staying there the entire time. Luckily, this place was considered a temp house for the people who owned it - they liked spending time in Europe - which left this place as yours. Besides, the Slender Man likes having you close. He was able to periodically check in on you with you being a few hours away as opposed to days. Why he was so interested in you, you’ll never know.

According to both him, and Masky, you’d been making good progress. By the end of your six months (lovingly referred to as a “trial run” by your group), you were half way back to what you used to be. It was disheartening to only hear “half” but it was better than nothing. A part of you wonders why you’re so inclined to get better when you should be focusing on leaving.

It’s not like you didn’t try.

You tried so many times that your group started a tally board and whoever found you first got a mark under their name. Whoever hit five before the board was reset got the next operation (or operation of their choosing) off. For the first few weeks when you were but a stranger with them, the punishments were harsh and unforgiving, like they hate you to your core. But, as the months went on, they went from fists to phrases. Eventually, you stopped trying to run so they no longer had to beat you. Every time you got that far off look in your eye, someone would reprimand you. It’s probably because they cared about you.

That’s common for proxies, bonding with your teammates on a level outsiders can’t understand. It’s mostly to keep you safe while out in the field. And unfortunately for you, you’ve been feeling that way towards your group. You’ve covered for each one at least once, and that gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. You’re in a strange place, if you’re being honest.

Take for instance now, back in the passenger seat of a car and heading back to Rosswood with Masky (he told you his real name is Tim) to talk with the Slender Man face to face. While the others in your group have been keeping up with him regularly, you haven’t seen him in person since well, six months ago. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach as you draw closer to the woods you once considered home.

“You nervous?” Masky hums as he turns the radio down.

“Yeah,” you reply, gazing out at the rolling fields again. “What if he-”

“It’d be stupid of him,” Masky cuts you off. “Six months of putting all this time and effort only to off you? Just… Just don’t say anything stupid,” he reminds you, a slight teasing tone lingering on his words. He looks at you with gentle eyes.

You scoff playfully. “Eyes on the road, weirdo.”

Standing in the Slender Man’s office this time as a welcome guest is weird. There’s still the scent of jasmine and incense, but there’s also something sweeter - like a memory he’s trying to provoke specifically for you. It’s warm, but not uncomfortably so, and it doesn’t feel near as suffocating as did that first time.

“You’ve certainly changed,” a deep voice says with an audible smile as it reverberates through your head.

“Sir,” you bow your head slightly.

“I’m going to make this short,” the Slender Man begins. “Miss Reader, I am satisfied with your progress these past six months.”

“Thank you, Sir,” both you and Masky reply.

The tall man hums. “However, you have only reached half of what you used to be. I believe the longer you stay in this group, the better you will become.”

You take in a sharp breath.

“Does that bother you?” The Slender Man doesn’t sound mad.

“I…”

Masky mentally clicks his tongue at you, and you glance over through the corner of your eye.

You decide to respond carefully. “I know normalcy… Sir, I don’t know if this life was ever meant for me, but,” you take in a deep breath and ball your fists to ground yourself. “If this is what you want of me, I will do it.”

The Slender Man chuckles. “Timothy, you’ve done an excellent job with this one. Perhaps I should have placed Pariah with you,” he emptily thinks aloud with another slight laugh. “I regret to inform you Miss Reader, that normalcy was never an option. You will go back with your team and you will continue to better yourself until I say otherwise.” He makes no move to stand from his desk, but his hands reach out.

Taking that as a nonverbal cue, you and Masky stand and each take a large hand.

The Slender Man’s fingers close around your much smaller hands before his hand leaves your grasp entirely. Instead of striking you, he gently cups your cheek. “Now go. I look forward to seeing you in six months.” The warmth is gone from his tone but lingers like doused coals in a still simmering fireplace.

“Thank you for your time,” Masky bows slightly, nodding for you to follow.

Without any other words, you nod to your boss and follow Masky out. The two of you trade silent conversation as you exit the mansion and back to the car. You slip in just like you did six months ago, and so too does Masky. The car comes to life, and you begin to peel out of the parking lot, back to Mississippi.

“How are you feeling?” Masky asks as he pulls down the sun visor after squinting at the beams of light.

“Not as bad as I thought,” you say in slight surprise. “Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Or,” Masky begins. “You were always meant for this.”

You laugh in response and smack his shoulder lighter. “You know you’re not slick, right?” You tease as you stick your tongue out.

Masky chuckles deeply and gets back on the expressway. “I try when I can.”

“Oh really?” You pretend to be shocked. “Where was that smooth talking when I first met you?”

“Out the window because I just met you,” he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You are literally the worst,” you teasingly scoff.

“Right back at you,” Masky breathily laughs. His dark eyes stay focused on the road as

you get comfortable in the passenger seat.

“Really though,” you say as you stretch slightly. “Thanks for not killing me.” You look at him with such gentle eyes that he can’t help but smile just as genuinely in response.

Masky won’t lie, he was admittedly worried for you in the beginning. What with you running away all the time, speaking ill of literally everyone, almost getting everyone caught by the cops… You were colorful, for lack of better words. It’s been nice cultivating that into something better. Maybe you’d make something of yourself out of this garbage fire of a hiccup.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugs. “It’s my responsibility to watch out for you anyways,” he says as before honking at someone who almost swerved into your lane. “Besides, you’re not all too bad, and as long as it’s me making sure you don’t set shit on fire… Think we’ll be just fine.” He looks over at you and smiles warmly - it feels like the sun - before he turns back to the road.

You hum contentedly as your hand reaches for the radio. You turn up the music and let it play, a serene, comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

#reader #x reader #reader insert #masky #hoodie #marble hornets #creepypasta x reader #tim wright x reader #masky x reader #slender man

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chunhua-s · 4 years

Text

WITH OUR HEARTS CONNECTED ➽ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA X READER

PART OF THE HAIKYUU SOULMATES! ONESHOT SERIES

genre: fluff

soulmate au: you are able to feel the emotions that your soulmate feels through the bond you share

warnings: none

you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this rush — the strange feelings that swell up so deeply inside your chest and cause the very wind to lose itself in your lungs. they’re so sudden and far in between that whenever they do happen, you’re left reeling from the weight of them as they slam into you. on those days, all the intense feelings that your soulmate unknowingly sends to you through your bond render you utterly exhausted, until you’d be able to collapse into his waiting arms. the strong emotions that so often had your knees jerking and your chest tightening would all melt into something so tender and undoubtedly affectionate when you got to see him at the end of each day, when he bent down so that he could press his nose and his lips against your neck and inhale the cocoa butter smell that he’d long since grown familiar with. his hands would rub gentle circles into your hips as you both came down from the high of his adrenaline, allowing the rush from countless drills and practice matches to slowly flow out of your bodies and leaving you both to finally relax into the other’s embrace.

it was certainly an experience to be ushijima wakatoshi’s soulmate. you’re one of the few people who are born with one — one of only a handful of others who had a partner whose heart would be tightly bound to your own for eternity. thus, you learned at the age of three that your feelings and emotions would be shared through the bond you had with your soulmate and vice versa. at that age you weren’t able to understand the implications of what that meant, and it became hard to identify what you were feeling separately from what you felt through your connected hearts; days where you felt so inexplicably happy that you sought around the house looking for something to do (these days, for ushijima, had been the days when he could play volleyball with his father in their garden); days where you were restless and burning with the urge to fill your long and dragging days with whatever could take that need to be active away (and similarly, those feelings were thanks to ushijima, whose father began taking him to volleyball camps as soon as his matriarchal household allowed it). thanks to those days, you ended up finding your place of relief in dance; your mother had the brilliant thought to get you into it when she realized your restless days were becoming more frequent as you grew older, and so both she and your father put together money and enrolled you into classes after school. thankfully, your being active helped to burn away all the extra energy that had sometimes caused you sleepless nights, and overtime, you eventually found your passion with dance and decided to nurture what ability you had further into your years.

it was when you grew older, nearing the age of 6, when you were hit with strong, torrential feelings of hopelessness and desolation, sometimes strong enough where it would affect you for entire days. the sensation itself wasn’t necessarily sudden, having been building up, like droplets of water slowly filling into a bucket. when that bucket finally overflowed, it felt as if you’d lost something — as if it had been taken away from you, and had gone to somewhere you couldn’t reach. it felt as if your words couldn’t find their way past your throat, stopped by an invisible hand around your neck that you couldn’t go against if you tried to. it made you want to cry and hold yourself, wondering what could be causing your soulmate to feel this way. during those days, you wished for nothing more than to reach out for them somehow, to hug them so tightly until those emotions would be a distant memory. you wanted to take their pain away and make them happy again — to let them know that they had someone who would do their best to ease their suffering in whatever way she could, however they needed from her. the feelings that followed after could only be described as cold and lonely: your head would feel so blank and empty, smothered by a fog that provided you no answers to questions you didn’t have. your days became blurred as you went through your motions and your only solace was in dance (ushijima’s would be volleyball). you sometimes felt so incredibly frustrated that you would lock yourself away and brood, sometimes you were left feeling so broken and abandoned, and no matter how muted the feelings would sometimes be (as if your soulmate was trying to push them away from his mind) they still managed to twist your heart as you could only imagine what must have been happening to your soulmate.

you couldn’t talk to anyone in your family about it for nearly a year because you didn’t know what was wrong, only that these weren’t your feelings and that they were being shared to you through your bond. your parents didn’t know how to handle it because neither of them had a soulmate; aside from basic knowledge, they were in the dark on how to help you. and so, you could do nothing but try and push as many positive feelings as you could through your bond, hoping that somehow, it would reach your partner’s heart. “i’m here for you” ; “it hurts, doesn’t it? if there was anyway i could help to take your pain away, i would do it in a heartbeat” ; “if you can feel what i’m wishing for you right now, i hope it can bring you some comfort” ; “you’re not alone even if it feels like it, I promise.” it was the only way you could think of to help them through whatever was hurting them so much, and you prayed to whoever would listen that it would lessen the pain they felt. (it was after meeting ushijima that you learned of his parents’ divorce, and even though he was no longer grieving, you could never forget the helplessness and sorrow that he’d unintentionally shared with you as a child. you promised him that day that, whatever it would be, you would always be there to hold him through moments of pain and hurt. he smiled at you so tenderly, the sight of his normally stern expression melting with so much love, and assured you that he would do anything he could to make sure you would never hurt the way he had to).

as you grew older, you started searching online about soulmates, specifically about how you would know when you met them. the answers you found were, at the best, incredibly vague and did nothing to quell your uncertainties and budding anxieties. every forum and vlog told you the same thing: “it’s like the world suddenly grows brighter and you learn how to breathe for the very first time!” or “meeting him changed everything for me, it was like i finally found something i didn’t even know i was missing, you know?” no — you didn’t know, that had been your whole reason for searching in the first place! it didn’t take long for you to give up, growing frustrated after coming across one blog that said “you’ll know when it happens, trust me.”

at the time, you couldn’t predict just how accurate those words would be.

the ac inside the gymnasium effortlessly seeped into the sleeves of your kitagawa daiichi pe jacket, drawing goosebumps across your skin like a pattern. and yet, you felt an indescribable kind of warmth flooding through your entire body as the world around you suddenly grew muted; the screams and cries of your schoolmates, the blow of the whistle that signaled your school’s call for a time-out, it all turned to white noise that faded out of your mind, all turned irrelevant in the face of him. green eyes that reminded you of summer leaves and olive trees stared up at you from the court during his team’s discussion period, and you found yourself drowning in their depth when he became the only thing you could see. his gaze was wide and his body was turned ever so slightly towards where you stood, as if he would take off running to you had it not been for his game. the pounding of your heart, the way the sound of it filled up your ears and the way his heavy, exhausted breathing echoed out to you were like the beating of taiko drums, loud enough that they drowned out the chants of “go, go, kitagawa!” on your side, the overwhelming shouts of “shiratorizawa!” from his. nothing else mattered to you in that moment other than him.

he took off towards the doors of the gym floor as soon as the award ceremony ended and the coach had dismissed his team, not sparing even the slightest second once his gaze found yours again. you didn’t even worry about the fact that your school had just lost its match, or that your friends would be looking for you so that you could leave together. you hurried to meet him, running down the stairs two at a time (forget that you’d injured your ankle during one of your practices, the pain was near non-existent to you in that moment). you found each other in the wide hallway; he stood before you, just as breathless as you felt as bodies passed between you. hesitantly, you took one step forward, and when he did the same, every bit of fear and uncertainty melted away from your body until you were standing directly before him. the light of the sun caressed his skin with such a tenderness, bathed him in yellow lights as his hair stuck to his forehead and his chest rose with his heavy breathing. he was sweaty and worn down from his match, but with the way his olive green eyes glittered like green jewels, he was painted in the sight of something so vibrant and breathtaking; to you he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. your own heart was beating so wildly against your rib cage that you feared it would break through and fall into his hands; your breathing felt as if you’d just danced for hours and your throat felt full of all the words you’d wanted to say to your destined partner when you met them for the first time. now, they all poured out from your heart and gathered on top of your tongue like a weight.

he was the one to speak first, the natural baritones of his voice filling up your ears and forbidding that you should hear anything else other than him. “i’m ushijima wakatoshi.”

“i know.”

“oh.”

it was the first thing you thought to say, and despite the initial embarrassment you felt (because how did you even think to respond like that?) gentle laughter bubbled up from your chest and fell out from your lips. you weren’t sure why you were laughing, but your first awkward interaction with your soulmate somehow managed to remove what bit of nervousness sat lurking beneath everything else you were feeling at that moment. “sorry,” you gave him, taking a deep breath and offering your hand for him to shake. “i’m (l/n) (y/n), it’s nice to finally meet you.”

the tender smile he gave to you as he took your outstretched hand was an image that you’d permanently burned into your mind.

since then, the both of you have only grown so much more together. you learned that he wasn’t the most expressive person, where the people around you so often believed him to be an impenetrable man, nothing but the southpaw canon, the dominating power inside shiratorizawa’s volleyball club. to you, he’s your closest confidant, whose heart interlaced so tightly with your own that it was never difficult for you to understand what he’s thinking or feeling in any given moment. while his world meets the unmoving volleyball freak, you’ve been able to recognize the tell-tale signs of his happiness by the fluttering of your own heart since you were three, could so easily take one glance at his eyes and understand when he was feeling particularly affectionate after a long day of practice. the subtle lifts of his lips when he got a text from his father, or the way his brows would furrow if he was struggling with a subject he didn’t like. and the honest and pure smiles he would take to wearing whenever you held his face between your arms and kissed his forehead, his nose, each rise of his cheeks and the very corner of his lips, you get to see everything that your world didn’t get to see. and why would they? to him, no one else needs to see him like this — it doesn’t matter to him whether or not the world understands him for more than his powerful spikes; with your heart connected to his, he has everything he’d ever dream of having.

you remember one particular day during the summer. you’d met with him briefly before he went to practice, letting him know that you were heading home early instead of heading to your dance practice, the headache from your newly-done box braids wearing you down. and so, he gently kissed your forehead and reminded you to take painkillers to help. (“try and drink a lot of water,” “do you have your silk bonnet?” “i could come and help you apply your oils later on,” “no i won’t be too tired after practice. it won’t matter if it’s for you.” you could tell he felt the obvious fluttering and the gratitude in your heart when he smiled down at you and squeezed your hand in his.) after wishing him good luck, and giving him a swift kiss when you were sure no one was there to see the pair of you, you took the bus straight home where you showered, ate a light snack and immediately crashed into your bed.

what woke you up wasn’t the six pm alarm that you set so that you could start your homework, but rather a sudden spike in your heart that had your blood burning beneath your skin and rushing like molten gold. it was the same feeling that would flow down to you through your bond, during ushijima’s games where you knew him to be domineering and competitive, and yet, this one was somehow different. rather than the familiar sense of we’ll win this round, no doubt about it, the same unyielding confidence that filled you up with pride, you were instead left reeling from an overwhelming need to crush, crush, crush! it was intense and all-consuming, like the heat of a particularly hard dance number that so often emptied your lungs of that well-needed air and replaced it instead with pure and unfiltered adrenaline. a shiver ran up your spine, forcing you to sit up and hold a hand over your chest. the pump, pump, pump of your heart was reminiscent of a long day of practice, the satisfaction that you felt when you finally completed an entire routine without mistakes. it was exhilarating and consumed every thought you had, and you had to wonder if it was the match against that college team that had wakatoshi feeling this way.

the bond you shared with him told you that it wasn’t.

“i met two volleyball players today,” he explained to you easily, his voice sounding relaxed as his legs nestled you between them. his hands worked their way between each box of hair, applying drops of lavender oil and using one finger to gently massage the pain out of your scalp. you did nothing to hide the content in your voice, humming at his actions and closing your eyes to the relaxing feeling of his hands in your head.

“is that what had you so worked up earlier?”

his answer came to you in a slight nod that you caught in your mirror, his hands not pausing in their journey over your hair. your eyes held on to the reflection of his face, you watched with a smile as his lips pursed and you felt the remnants of that intense competetive fire fluttering through your bond as he remembered the two boys he met that day. “they’re interesting,” he said to you, but you knew that there was much more to it through your connected hearts. i will crush them, the words still echoed in your mind.

“you’re excited to play against them,” it wasn’t a question, left your lips with assuredness as you tilted your head back to meet his eyes. in them, you could see the very same fire lighting the green colour until it they burned like liquid lightning. when he nodded, you turned yourself around so that you could face him, lifting yourself to your knees as his hands fell from your head and instead to your waist, where the tips of your braids tickled his knuckles. “play a fun game against them and win, okay?” you whispered with the palms of your hands against his cheeks, gently caressing the skin there and placing a tender kiss to his lips. you felt your heart swelling up with every ounce of love you felt for the boy-turning-man before you, and felt it all multiply with his own affections until both your hearts were singing in sweet harmony. he smiled and chased your lips before you were able to pull back before wrapping his arms around you and placing his head in the valley of your neck.

now, as you feel a million things running through your heart, you remember the same sensation that had woken you up that evening. the overwhelming urge to crush him, crush number 10, that near consumed your entire being has you cheering louder than you ever had in your life as the fifth and final set against karasuno drew closer and closer to its end. wakatoshi is absolutely relentless, each ball he shoots over the net a command for them to stay down, to drop the ball and crumble in the face of his power. it has you burning so viscously that your hands tightly clutch over the metal bar to the point of cramping. annoyed, impatient, eager, they all choke the breath from your lungs and force you to gasp for air at the summit, and yet, you can feel his heart singing on the nodes of pleasure. he’s having fun, you know this when he glances up at you from the benches during the final time out. through your connected hearts, you’re able to feel every rise and fall that follows his jumps, his spikes, his serves; every bit of emotion that he feels wounds around the red string that binds you together and you share them as your own. as you watch your soulmate blend into his element, you support him in the best way you know how, taking everything he gives to you and pushing it into your voice so that you’re the loudest in the audience.

and through your connected hearts, you’re able to feel the love and gratitude that he bears for you.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

haikyuu!! soulmate au taglist: @nishiya-is-baby @aiiishiiiteru

wow this was longer than i expected it to be?? i decided to cut it short since the rest of it would delve into the rest of the shiratorizawa vs karasuno match and i didn’t really want to repeat what everyone already knows happened :v sorry if it’s a lil over the place, my brain’s been filled up with ushi brainrot and i kinda let myself go on this one. im not sure if i wrote him the way everyone likes but i tried to emphasize on him being more than just “ushijima the southpaw,” especially during his family’s divorce. i hope i did a good job trying to translate what i think he might have been going through during that time? in my head i feel as if his homelife with his mother would be a kind of smothering place where he wasn’t able to open up to her, and when his father was suddenly gone one day, he didn’t have anyone to show his heart to. and so the reader would do her best to let him know that, even if they haven’t met yet, she was there for him, that she could feel his pain, and that she wouldn’t ever make him hide those from her. she wanted him to know that whatever it was, he could express it to her without fearing those feelings being brushed off.

this is part of a series, so please send me an ask or dm if you’d like to be apart of a taglist! i’m currently taking request for haikyuu characters and soulmate au’s, so please come and leave your requests for those as well! thank you for reading! ♡

previous: asahi azumane | next stop: hajime iwaizumi!

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x black reader #haikyuu x black reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x black reader #haikyuu reader insert #black reader #haikyuu soulmate au #haikyuu x black!reader #ushijima wakatoshi #self indulgence at its finest #ushijima wakatoshi x you #ushijima x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! soulmate au ��✨

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vaindumbass · 3 years

Text

The ministry is good for one (1) thing... getting Tonks a date

‘Why-’ Tonks says to the head that is currently sticking out of her fireplace, ‘Why did you ask me for this job.’

Charlie doesn’t even hesitate before answering. ‘Because you speak French fluently, and because you love me and therefore couldn’t say no.’

Mentally, Tonks curses out the Black family and their fucked up traditions. Why French, of all things? Then she corrects herself and blames her mother instead, for keeping this particular tradition. Couldn’t she have gone hunting when she was ten, instead? Bella always thought that was great fun.

Out loud, she replies. ‘I could’ve said no. If I wanted to.’

‘So you want to do this? Good to hear! You can always thank me later, a gift basket would be nice-’

Tonks scoffs at Charlie’s way too wide grin, a laugh threatening to crack out on her face too. ‘You know what, Charlie?’

‘What?’ he says, smugly, as if he’s won.

‘You weren’t completely wrong. I couldn’t have said no.’

‘I know.’

‘You were wrong about one thing, though.’

The fire crackles as Charlie cocks his head. ‘Well?’

Tonks pulls her face into something sad and melancholic to the best of her ability, and looks dramatically into the distance. ‘I don’t love you.’

Charlie’s gasp is loud enough that Tonks almost fears that he’ll douse the flames, somehow. ‘How dare you! Was all this…. a lie?’ After he has stared morosely into the flames for a while, though, he asks: ‘But seriously, babe, what is it?’

The back of Tonks’ shoulders itches a little now that they aren’t joking anymore, and she feels a bit too closely scrutinized. ‘It’s not that bad, okay? You don’t have to look so worried.’

Charlie still looks worried.

‘It’s just- remember how you asked me so that I could translate what she would say?’

‘Sure.’

‘Well, since she’s here partially to improve her English, she told me that I wasn’t really needed.’

‘Okay.’ Charlie says, ‘And?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You wouldn’t be bothered this much by that. I know you, can’t fool me.’

‘Okay so I may have-’

‘May have or you did?’

Tonks ignores him, words spilling out of her. ‘I may have spilled my coffee on her. And she’s so fucking pretty, Charlie, and confident, which I’m apparently attracted to?’

‘There we go,’ He mutters under his breath. Tonks isn’t done.

‘And she doesn’t sugarcoat stuff, you know? So logically I know that she means it when she says that it’s okay, and that she doesn’t mind me ruining her clothes, but what if she secretly hates me now?’

‘Mhm.’

‘She was perfectly kind, though, and have I mentioned how good-looking she is? Name is Fleur, by the way, and sure looks aren’t everything, I change mine on the daily, but the way she looks when she smiles… Only, there’s no excuse for me to stay around her, anymore, and now I’ll never see her again, and she’ll only remember me as that horrible person who ruined her day.’

Charlie’s laugh rings around the room, warm and comfortable, and some ash gets on the carpet when he finally decides to just step out of the fireplace. ‘I’m going to have to stop you there, babe. You’re not just here to speak the language of love-’ After these words, there’s a horrible eyebrow wiggle, and Tonks makes and even weirder face back, just because she can. ‘- but also to show her around!’

‘I don’t even work here anymore! It really is weird that you couldn’t find anyone else who speaks French. I mean- Sirius does?’

‘Yes,’ Charlie responds, while walking around in her house in that comfortable way of his, easily settling down on her couch, ‘because I know Sirius so much better than I know you.’

Tonks lifts up his legs so that there is some space for her to sit, and then keeps one hand curled around his ankle, the other gesturing wildly, almost hitting the lamp that stands near. ‘I don’t know! You both like animals, right?’

‘You know very well that Sirius has adopted a hippogriff. Now, if it’d been a dragon-’

‘Fair enough,’ Tonks says, because while she loves Charlie’s ranting there’s still one topic she’d like clarity on, ‘But still, aren’t there people who speak French and, like, actually work at the ministry?’

Charlie purses his lips. ‘Maybe. But while I am very aro ace I still have eyes and she’s indeed very pretty, and you are very single, so-’

He can’t even finish the sentence before Tonks has thrown a pillow at him. He throws one back, of course, and soon enough they’re two adults in a full-on pillow war, laughing up and until Tonks accidentally punches Charlie in the face.

She gets him some ice and then they just cuddle on the couch for a bit, legs intertwined, and as Charlie tells her about the proper way to clip a dragon’s toenails, she gets a feeling as if she might just be able to handle the whole Fleur thing.

~~~

Tonks is not able to handle the whole Fleur thing.

They don’t spill their coffee again, they’re trying to be careful now, but she’s already confusing departments, and accidentally pressing all the buttons in the lift, which isn’t really appreciated by anyone.

Fleur just laughs at that. ‘How did you press all of them?’

‘I was-’ Tonks stammers, ‘I was trying to hold on to something so I wouldn’t fall.’

‘Why not hold on to me?’ Fleur asks, a thick French accent coating her words, and Tonks just stares for a while. Is this flirting? Is it a joke that Tonks is simply too dumb to get? Should they respond to this with ‘but then I wouldn’t have fallen for you’ and some finger guns?

Tonks only knows the answer to that last one (it’s ‘no’, in case that wasn’t clear). ‘It’s- erm- I mean-’

Fleur just smiles at them in a way that Tonks wishfully thinks might be flirtatious. Tonks is suddenly very glad blushes don’t really show up on their dark skin.

A voice calls out ‘Department of Magical Games and Sports’ and Tonks and Fleur get out, because this was the next part of the tour.

Fleur, her eyes lingering on the various posters hung on the walls, says, ‘Aren’t people here supposed to be impartial? This must be inefficient.’

‘For sure,’ Tonks says, never one to defend the ministry, ‘it’s all a bit shoddy, as if it’s taped together with duct tape.’ (They very carefully pronounce that last word. Who knows, maybe muggle knowledge will impress Fleur?)

‘Then why do you work for it?’

A laugh curls Tonks lips. ‘I don’t! Me and Moody, that’s my old mentor, have opened a sort of private detective office.’

They aren’t even walking through the corridor anymore. One quidditch poster (The Chudley Cannons) is slightly crinkled where Fleur’s shoulder is leaning on it. She throws a bit of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘Then why are you giving me a tour here?’

With a bit of a crooked grin, Tonks answers: ‘Like I said, a bit shoddy.’

Tonks likes the fact that they’re talking now, likes it very much, and therefore they try to lean on the wall just as casually as Fleur does, but they miscalculate, and the ground suddenly comes at them with an alarming speed.

‘Watch out!’ Fleur says, from somewhere very, very close, a flowery smell suddenly surrounding them. One of Fleur’s arms is around their upper arm, the other one curled around their waist. Fleur is very warm. Coincidentally, so are Tonks’ cheeks.

They get up quickly, trying not to elbow Fleur, avoiding eye contact just a little bit. ‘When you said I could hold on to you, I didn’t think I’d need it this quickly.’

Fleur snorts. ‘I am not all too surprised, honestly.’

‘That’s fair,’ Tonks' heart is still beating wildly.

There’s a bit of a silence, and Tonks wrecks their brain for something to talk about. They don’t want this to be over just yet. Luckily, Fleur speaks up.

‘How is being a metamorphmagus? I am part-Veela, and I know other magical beings are immune for that, but I do not know much more. What do you change most often?’

‘My hair,’ Tonks laughs, raking a hand through it (short and a deep blue today), ‘It’s partly apart from my body, in a way, so it takes a bit more effort to change, but once it’s a different colour it stays that way without any effort.’

Fleur cocks her head. ‘It takes effort to change?’

‘For sure. Not all that much, but if I change too much for too long I get a headache. I would never change my skin tone, but if I did I’d get really grouchy, most probably. Oh! And I sometimes change my nose and such as a party trick.’

‘Sounds fun,’ Fleur says, a smile playing on her lips. Tonks seriously considers changing their nose into the one of that squid in the cartoon Hermione showed her, before realizing that that wouldn’t impress Fleur, but rather the opposite.

‘It is! But I get tired if I do it too much. That’s also why, on days that gender is-’ Tonks makes a vague hand gesture, ‘- I sometimes wear a binder, because while I can make my chest flatter, sometimes I’ll be concentrating on some work and suddenly, bam!’ They mimick an explosion in front of their chest, pushing their hands forward.

Fleur snickers. ‘Poor you.´ That sounds like the end of the conversation, but Tonks has finally had enough time to get their brain to work again, and they’ve come up with a new topic.

‘So, what are you here for?’

‘Did you not get that information?’ (Tonks had never said it was a good topic)

‘No, I did, but I thought you might be able to explain it better?’

‘Oh.’ Fleur says, ‘well, I am looking into the practical applications of magic, but specifically on magical creatures. Dragons, for example, can be lured to sleep with a sleeping charm, but can resist most hexes without any effort.

‘Giants, who can also resist hexes, can easily resist a sleeping charm, but curses can seriously harm them, and that’s already fascinating, but I’m going to look into what effects other kinds of magic have, outside of wizardry, starting with Veela magic, because I happen to possess that, and that's not even talking about how that magic works. Only female Veela have any sort of non-wixard magical power, but the magic is not stored in the uturus as one might think, because I do not have one, but still have magic. How does the magic know that?’

Fleur had been talking slowly and deliberately ever since Tonks had met her, as if she was weighing the words, remembering the pronunciation, but now she talks faster, a flush on her cheeks.

‘But I'm getting of topic. I will mostly work with stuff like: why does Veela magic affect unicorns but not dragons? Why does it affect giants but not metamorphmagi? And if it doesn’t affect metamorphmagi, then why do you still get so flustered?’

‘I-’ Tonks says, ‘Erm-’

‘Do not worry,’ Fleur says, smiling ever-so-slightly, ‘I think I know the answer. Would you like to go on a date with me?’

Honestly, Tonks didn’t think a dingy corner lined with quidditch posters could ever be romantic, but Fleur makes it work, with the soft lighting on her cheek, and that fucking gorgeous smile on her lips. ‘Yes,’ they answer (was there ever another option?), ‘I’d like that very much.’

In a sudden rush of courage (what are they, a gryffindor?) they ask: ‘Can I kiss you?’

Fleur nods, and they discover that yes, Fleur’s smile tastes as wonderful as it looks.

#flonks #in my timezone its still femslash february so im saying it counts #even tho this isnt completely FEMslash yall get what i mean #fleur delacour #nymphadora tonks #charlie weasley #to anyone wondering: yes this is what prompted the 'charlie weasley calls his friends 'babe'' post #and im right!!!!#oneshot #mywriting #i took hp lore and RAN with it #fleur is just so smart tho.... that deserves its own place #and moody and tonks ruining a private detectives business is actually something that can be so personal-#also just so yall know charlie doesnt work for the ministry EITHER the reason why he could still get tonks the job is. well.#its explained in the story

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thisissirius · 4 years

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@queenginnys has been waiting so long ;)

learn by sign eddie/buck, deaf!buck, fluff

Eddie is always awake before Buck.

There’s no background noise for Buck; he doesn’t hear the hum of the fridge, of the AC, the sounds of the traffic outside, the sirens that occasionally wail through the night. Later in the morning, he’ll hear everything; when he turns the implant on and becomes Firefighter Buckley.

Eddie thinks of them as two separate people because they are. There’s the firefighter, who still laughs and jokes, throws an arm around someone’s shoulders and brightens their day. Then there’s Eddie’s Buck, who loses that edge when he’s home. He’ll be softer somehow, more inclined to press into Eddie’s space, let Eddie take away whatever stress he’s piled up throughout the day.

The Buck who signs his way through dinner, a movie, and then goes through the nightly routine with Chris. His last sign to Christopher is always goodnight and then Christopher’s sign name.

“Everyone has one,” Buck explains to a crowded dinner table. Eddie’s impressed with the regulation of Buck’s tone and wonders how long he practiced to speak at the right level. “Sometimes you can spell out their name,” and he does so, E-D-D-I-E. “Then there’s a combination,” he gestures to Maddie. Eddie recognizes the sign for sister and then something else.

“What’s the second one?” Eddie frowns. “Sister then what?”

Maddie looks surprised, but Buck grins. “You learned sister?”

“Kinda,” Eddie says, fumbling his way through the sign.

Buck laughs gently. “That’s brother.” He touches Eddie’s hand, still in the L shape, and moves the thumb from Eddie’s forehead to his jaw. “That’s sister. Forehead is brother, jaw is sister.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. Repeats the motion and Buck nods.

The rest of the table is silent, and Buck shifts in his hair. “The other is protect.”

Christopher’s sign name is one Eddie’s still figuring out. Buck’s too quick and Eddie can’t tell if it’s one sign or two.

Buck doesn’t have to sign Eddie’s name at home; he usually just calls Eddie an idiot which makes Chris laugh and Eddie rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

The Buck who wakes up next to Eddie in the morning is the same one who spends at least an hour every day teaching Christopher signs. It doesn’t always work; Chris isn’t able to make them all but he puts in a valiant attempt, and Eddie’s seen Buck turn on the implant more than once just so that Chris can talk to him. It makes something burn in Eddie’s chest, tucked away behind his ribcage.

“Morning,” Buck mumbles. Here, in the privacy of their bedroom, Buck’s volume dips and rises depending on his mood. He’s quiet this morning, shuffling forward, and Eddie slides an arm around him, Buck’s cheek to his shoulder.

Gently, he signs morning against Buck’s arm.

Buck huffs a laugh and kisses Eddie’s collarbone.

Eddie’s amazed, still, that he gets to have this; that Buck chose him, wants to stay with him.

“You didn’t see my deafness,” Buck says when Eddie works up the courage to ask. “I don’t know if it’s because of Chris or you just don’t care, but you saw me instead of the implant.”

Eddie remembers touching Buck’s face, fingers against his chin, and rubbing his thumb along Buck’s jaw. “Anyone who thinks less of you because you can’t hear them is stupid,” he says, mouthing the words as obviously as he can. Sometimes he knows he’s being ridiculous because Buck smirks at him, but he’s trying. Buck’s eyes soften, his hands light on Eddie’s hips like he understands. “You’re still my Buck.”

My Buck.

Possessive.

Eddie’s slow at learning Sign, but he’s getting there. He aims for simple, and always learns them in the firehouse, where the rest of the crew can see. He doesn’t want to reveal Buck’s preference to them; if Buck wants them to know, he’ll say, but Eddie can throw all the hints he likes. Buck deserves to be comfortable and even if he can’t turn off the implant, there are protocols, after all, he can guide their friends into accepting Buck’s deafness outside of work. Still, Buck will go to functions with his implant on; Eddie wants him to lose that tense line of his shoulder with the rest of their family as well.

“Show me again,” Eddie says, holding up his hands. He can feel Hen’s eyes on them as Buck moves his fingers through the sign, touching his mouth and then down to touch his wrist, then making the sign for a question mark. Eddie copies. Dinner?

“What was that?” Hen asks.

Buck looks surprised.

“Dinner,” Eddie says when Buck doesn’t. “Chris and I are learning Sign.”

Hen raises her eyebrows but then something in her expression clears. Eddie thinks maybe she knows; Buck’s not as subtle as he likes to think. “Show me some?”

Eddie’s watching; Buck’s mouth quirks up, his eyes dipping because he’s pleased, and nods.

Some days it isn’t so easy; Buck wakes up without saying a word, rolling out of bed, and putting his implant on right away. He’ll be soft and careful with Chris, but everywhere else he’s all hard edges and bitterness. Eddie reminds himself not to take it personally. He doesn’t know what it’s like to miss that vital touch. Sound is such an integral part of his world he can’t imagine not having it.

Those days, they come home from work, or from running errands, and crash on the couch. Later, when they’re falling into bed, Buck will press himself against every line of Eddie’s body and Sign. Eddie doesn’t know what he’s saying, but Buck trusts him to talk in the way he prefers, and that matters.

“What’s son?” Chim asks one day, leaning against the couch.

Eddie’s watching Buck’s hands. He frowns. “So what’s this?”

Buck watches him make the Sign and snorts. “Gold. Where did you see that?”

“Online,” Eddie blurts, his mind running over a Sign he’s seen Buck make every night before bed. His heart feels too big for his chest and he wishes they weren’t at work; he wants to crowd Buck against the wall, touch him gently, reverently, and promise to stay.

Buck shrugs and turns back to the TV, rolling his eyes at Chim’s sloppy attempts at Sign. He’s somehow determined that it’s the best way to appeal to Maddie and Buck’s refusing to be offended.

“She deserves to be happy,” he tells Eddie. “She saved me once.”

It’s not until they’re home, safe after a shift, Christopher tucked up in bed, that Eddie remembers the Signs from earlier.

“Your name for Chris,” Eddie says, meeting Buck’s eyes slowly. Buck swallows, Eddie watches the bob of his throat, but he seems to realize Eddie’s not mad. He shrugs easily and Eddie runs a hand through Buck’s hair, fingers stroking the nape of his neck. “Gold son?”

“I know it’s a bit,” Buck starts, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “That’s okay?”

Eddie nods, not sure he’s got the words for this. “Of course it is.”

Buck watches his lips, smiles.

“So what’s mine?” Eddie asks carefully.

“Eddie,” Buck says, leaning across. He kisses Eddie softly, their foreheads pressed together, and take his finger, points at Eddie, then taps it three times against Eddie’s chest. You Heart, Eddie thinks, and then looks up. Buck’s eyes are bright. “You’re my heart.”

Eddie holds up a hand, circles a finger, pushes out his hand with thumb and pinky extended. Then taps his chest. Forever. Mine.

If Buck doesn’t have the words to reply, Eddie doesn’t mind; the searing kiss, the way Buck shakes beneath his hands, and the love sign pressed into the space between them do all the talking for him.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #fic by me #911 #kingtxhalla #queenginnys #fic: deaf!buck #buckleystrand

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