Wqnsho - VEN ᐢ..ᐢ

oh i loveee this

Wake Up Call

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: Thanos is you're least favorite regular at the club you bartend for. But when you find him passed out against the building one night, you can't just leave him there. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i'm really proud of this fic. expect a second part sometime soonish (gonna work on requests first tho). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

The music in Club Pentagon is so loud it feels like it's inside of you. You're placing the olives in a dry martini a patron is waiting for, handing it to them with a smile. You're one of the most popular bartenders at Club Pentagon. Men order from you because they're drunk and want to fuck you, and women order from you because they're more comfortable drinking cocktails that have been made by another woman.

"Señorita, over here!" A voice yells out to you and you sigh at the familiar voice.

You turn and put a hand on your hip, spotting the telltale purple hair of your least favorite regular. "What do you want?"

He puts a hand over his heart. "Ouch, you hurt me, baby. I just wanted to see my favorite girl."

You roll your eyes, grabbing a nearby towel and quickly wiping drops of different liquors off the bar. "Well, you saw me, so you can leave now."

He takes a glance at his little posse around him, consisting of guys hoping to get famous, girls wanting to say they slept with a rapper, and your least favorite coworker Nam-gyu. You have no idea how the runner still has a job here, considering he spends more time licking the failed rapper's boots than actually running anything.

"You know, I have an extra space at my table," he says. "I'd love if you came over after your shift. Thanos will treat you well."

You groan. The boy has been relentless in asking you out ever since you started working at the club. "I would rather sit with the movie villain than you." You look over his shoulder at your coworker. "Nam-gyu, take him away or I'm gonna volunteer you to clean the floors."

With a hiss, Nam-gyu puts his hands on Thanos' shoulders and steers him away from you. Thanos smiles over his shoulder, waving at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, Señorita!"

You cringe, knowing that you most definitely will see him again tomorrow.

<>

The next night goes by much too slow for your liking. You spend your shift mixing the same drinks over and over, putting up with the men who flirt with you, and calling security on some men who won't leave girls alone. You had of course seen Thanos, but the club was so busy that you didn't even have the time to reject him, instead just huffing at him and turning to another person waiting at the bar.

Once your shift is over and you've finished everything you need to do, you step out through the back door, taking a deep breath of air that doesn't smell like smoke or alcohol.

As you walk toward the street to hail a cab, you spot a flash of purple against the wall. Getting a bit closer, you recognize the passed out body of Thanos.

While a small part of your mind is telling you to just leave him there, you know you can't do that. You crouch down next to him, putting your fingers on his pulse point and letting out a sigh of relief when you feel his heartbeat. You look down at him, furrowing your brows when you notice that the cross that always hangs around his neck is slightly open.

Carefully picking it up, you take a peek inside and see an assortment of multi-colored pills. Shit, he's lucky he's just passed out. Had you known he'd been on... whatever this shit is... you would've banned all bartenders from serving him drinks. He may be the bane of your existence, but you're not going to let him die.

You close the cross and remove it from around his neck, shoving it in your pocket. You lightly slap his cheek a few times until he blinks his eyes open, looking around him. He looks at you, eyes adjusting to the light.

"Hey, Señorita," he slurs. "Where is everybody? Where's Nam-su? He was supposed to take me home."

You let out a small chuckle at the name he called your coworker. "They aren't here."

He frowns, trying to stand up. "I need another drink."

You grab onto his shoulders, supporting his weight as he nearly topples to the ground. "I think you've had enough, Thanos. It's time to get you home."

He makes a sound of protest, but doesn't have the strength to stop you from dragging him to the curb as you wave down a taxi. The car pulls up and you help Thanos into the back seat before sliding in next to him.

"Where to, Miss?"

The plan was to take Thanos to his place, but you don't know where he lives and the odds of him telling you or the cab driver right now are slim. He also can't be left alone in the state he's in. One more pill could send him over the edge.

With a sigh, you tell the driver the address of your apartment building, holding Thanos upright as he pulls away from the club.

<>

Thanos wakes up, his head pounding worse than ever. He reaches for his cross to pop a pill to get rid of the headache, but instead of finding the necklace, his hands just grab his shirt.

He opens his eyes, hissing when the light makes a pang of pain go through his head. Looking down, Thanos' cross is nowhere to be found. That's when he realizes that he's not in his bed, or any bed, for that matter. He's laying on the couch in an unknown place, a small garbage can on the floor next to him. On the coffee table in front of him is a glass of water. He reaches for it, downing the whole glass in one go. Spotting a small note next to the glass, he picks it up and reads it.

'If you barf I'll make you clean it up. Use the garbage.'

He hears a noise coming from the other room and stands up, wanting to figure out what is happening and where he is. When he steps into the kitchen, he nearly gasps when he sees you with your messy hair and oversized t-shirt on.

You turn to look at him. "Oh good, you're not dead. I really didn't want to deal with that." You walk over to the fridge. "Blue or red?"

He gives you a confused look. "What?"

"Gatorade," you clarify. "Blue or red?"

"Oh, uhh, blue."

You grab the blue bottle and place it on the table. "Drink that. The electrolytes are good for hangovers."

Thanos walks slowly to the table, picking up the bottle and taking a sip. "Do you have a bathroom?"

"No, I just pee out the window," you deadpan without thinking. You see him look down, a look of embarrassment and shame taking over his face. You sigh. "Down the hall to the left."

The boy nods and disappears down the hallway. He walks into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He feels in his pockets, taking out his phone and huffing when he sees the battery is dead. Looking inside your medicine cabinet, he frowns when he can't find what he's looking for. How can you have no painkillers? Instead he takes the mouthwash, taking two big gulps. Mouthwash has alcohol, and he needs it. When he doesn't feel the familiar sting, he looks down at the label.

'Alcohol free'.

Just his fucking luck.

He puts the bottle back in the cabinet and closes it, coming face-to-face with himself in the mirror. The bags under his eyes have never been darker, at least not that he can remember. His skin looks pale, and his hair is disgusting. He turns the knob for the sink, splashing his face with cold water.

When he walks back into the kitchen, you're no longer there. He moves to the table, seeing a plate with scrambled eggs and toast sitting next to his drink. Thanos hesitates, not really knowing what to do.

"That's for you, you know."

He jumps a bit when he hears your voice behind him. You come out of your room dressed in your casual clothes.

You smile slightly at his expression. "Do you not like eggs?"

He shakes his head. "No, eggs are good."

Your smile grows. "Good because that's all I know how to make. Do you want any hot sauce with it or something?" You put the rest of the eggs from the pan onto your own plate and leave the pan to cool off.

"Do you have pepper?" Thanos asks.

You nod, walking to the table and putting your plate down on the opposite side of his. "It's on the table."

Thanos cautiously sits down in his seat, reaching for the pepper and putting it on his eggs. He takes a bite, pleased to find that they are cooked just right. He watches you as you eat your breakfast in silence, scrolling through your phone mindlessly. A shot of pain going through his head and he winces. "Do you have any painkillers?"

You shake your head, not taking your eyes away from the screen. "I do, but I think you've mixed enough substances with whatever's in that cross you carry."

Thanos feels his entire body tense at the mention of his cross. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing ends up coming out.

You lock your phone and put it face-down on the table. "Don't worry, I didn't throw it out. It's in a safe place, along with the painkillers and anything else that could potentially be abused."

The boy lets out a breath and nods, continuing to eat slowly. He looks you over silently. Your face is bare of makeup and your hair is still messy. Thanos has liked you since the moment he first saw you at the club, but you've never looked more beautiful than you do right now. "What happened? How did I get here?"

"I found you passed out outside the club last night when I was leaving," you explain. "You said Nam-gyu was supposed to bring you home but I couldn't find him, so I took you back here."

Thanos huffs. "Fucking idiot," he says under his breath.

You snort out a laugh, and Thanos thinks it might just be the most beautiful noise he's ever heard. He wants to know what he can do to hear that noise again.

You both finish your food in a comfortable silence, you looking at your phone and Thanos looking at you. At one point you catch him looking at you and raise an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

He takes a deep breath. "Why are you helping me? Why are you being nice to me? I've been nothing but an asshole to you."

You sigh. "Honestly, I've been asking myself the same question. I think I just saw you there, alone and in need, and I thought that I would've wanted someone to help me had they found me like that. You have been an ass, but I think that's more the pills than you."

Thanos nods slowly, taking in your words. "Well, thank you."

You nod. "Just please don't make me regret showing you where my apartment is. I don't wanna move."

The boy chuckles, and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch up at the sound. "I won't. I promise."

"Good." You stand, taking your plate and his and bringing them to the sink. "I have off today. You're welcome to stay here for a bit until you're feeling better. I'll call a cab for you when you're ready."

Thanos goes back to the couch he woke up on, sitting down. He finds a charger for his phone and plugs it in. You come into the room, putting a new bottle of gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. He thanks you and cracks the seal.

The two of you end up talking for hours. He tells you about how he got into music, and you tell him that you always wanted to try learning to play the guitar, though you've never had enough money to buy one or the other equipment. Thanos feels his heart grow fuller with every laugh he is able to get out of you. He gets more satisfaction from these few hours spent with you than he has every night drinking his life away at Club Pentagon.

At one point, you look at him, a lazy smile on your face. "What's your name?"

He gives you a look of confusion.

"Your real name. I doubt your real name is Thanos."

He lets out a nervous laugh. He hasn't gone by his real name in at least a year. "It's Su-bong," he says shyly. "Choi Su-bong."

"Su-bong," you repeat, as if trying out how it feels. You smile at him. "I like Su-bong. You should be him more often."

Later, as you stand outside your building calling for a taxi, you turn to look at the boy next to you. "You know, you could be so much more than this."

He looks at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You have talent and heart, more than you've ever shown while out of your mind drunk and stoned," you say. "So many people's lives are ruined because they keep chasing that high. Don't be one of those people. Please. You're meant for better."

A cab pulls to the curb in front of you. As Su-bong opens the door, you put an arm on his shoulder, stopping him. Digging into your pocket, you pull out his cross and hand it to him. "The choice is yours. And if you decide you want to give your life another chance, I'll be here to support you." You hand him a slip of paper with your phone number. "This is for support. If you text me the way that you talk to me at the club, I'm going to block you. Do not make me regret this."

He smiles as he takes the cross and the paper from you. Once he sits in the car, he rolls the window down. "Thank you again, for everything."

You give him a small smile and wave before walking back into your apartment building.

Once inside his own apartment, Thanos walks to his bathroom. He takes the cross out of his pocket, opening it to find his pills. He picks one up, examining it. With a sigh, he drops the pill into the toilet, turning the cross over so the others follow. He watches as the bright pills swirl around bowl before disappearing down the drain. He doesn't want to be this person anymore. He wants to be someone that you can be proud of. Someone that he can be proud of.

Hi! I want to ask if there's any hwang in ho fic in the making at the moment? I still can't get over your 'crossroad' fic. I'm dying here, i need your work like i need air and water lol.

I am planning to send you a request, and i am wondering if you are comfortable at writing in ho x reader with the age gap? (20s reader)

lots of love 💋

hii!! I actually have two in-ho pics planned! one is a blurb I'm gonna post later and one is another long fic lol (currently as 17k words)

as for your request, i'll definitely add that! I have another request that perfectly matches with yours :)

thank you for your support <33

Feb.20.2012 - July.20.2020

I expected to be sad and empty in the wake of Haikyuu, but it turns out that all I can feel is gratitude. I could try for a year and not be able to express everything I feel about this series. Thank you, Furudate-sensei, for 8 and a half years of hard work; thank you for letting us meet these characters; and thank you for showing us all that volleyball is fun.

[image is a drawing of two versions of hinata, in profile and facing away from each other; to the left, 15-year-old hinata sits hunched and defeated in the aftermath of being pulled out of karasuno’s last match at nationals. to the right, 25-year-old hinata strides confidently forward in japan’s national uniform. above, text reads: “today, you are the defeated. what will you become tomorrow?” to the left, and “yesterday, you were the defeated. what will you become today?” to the right.]

in which childe is really in love with you

a/n: i really like whipped men

"i like you, let's get married!"

paimon's random screeches right next to your ear feel distant as you can feel your soul leaving from your body. even lumine isn't sure how to react.

it was definitely a mistake to accompany lumine on her trip back to liyue. especially after meeting this stranger who seems way too eager to make conversation with you for the past week you've met him.

with the best, politest, brightest, professional smile you could muster, you beam at childe.

"no."

lumine gives a comforting pat on the back for the ginger.

.

.

.

"childe, for the last time, stop sending me gifts that cost more than my entire life savings!!" you barge into his office with a new set of sapphire jewelry in hand. none of the fatui recruits really blink an eye anymore, used to seeing your presence in the past few days.

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, and then pouts with a sound huff.

"is this set still not to your liking? i made sure to chose the best one.."

"best as in the most expensive?"

"...the prettiest."

"childe i-"

"i said you could call me ajax when we're alone" his frown deepens along with the crease in his brow. you can't lie to yourself when you say that it didn't make your heart twinge with a little guilt.

"....ajax, i don't need you to be sending me all these lavish items." you mutter softly. you notice him flinch a little, before masking it with his normal playful expression.

"ahh... i don't know what to do.." he dramatically sighs. you lift your brow. "i'm sure my face is plenty attractive, and i'm still young all things considered. and my body is up to standards i suppose."

"..?"

"but you're not falling for it!! is my face not your type? or is it my personality? what is your type? i can change to be whatever you like." his rambling causes him to unintentionally lean closer towards you, pressing for answers to his desperate questions. you should deviate, somehow. he's close enough that his scent washes over you, pleasantly surprising you.

"what cologne do you wear?" his eye widens in glee. uh oh.

"do you like it? i'll wear it everyday for you." his charms really flow out of him as naturally as he breathes. you shake your head. no. you shouldn't be swayed this easily.

"do whatever you want." you place the box of jewelry on his desk. his eyes follow your movement.

"you didn't answer my question."

"yeah it's nice. reminds me of the ocean"

"not that one." your eyes meet his. the eyes that also resemble the ocean that you think of. the one that has gentle swaying waves, a soothing breeze that wisps through the air, soft melodies whispered in the depths of the water. an ocean that brings you comfort like no other.

oh. oh. oh.

in your silence, childe slowly inches his hand towards his rejected gift. snaking the necklace out of its hold, grabbing the clasps.

the cold tingle against your collarbone pulls you back to reality.

"hey stop it. i never accepted it." your words go ignored as you feel his hands fumble to clasp each end together, his gaze tenderly tracing around your face. an overwhelming gaze that you can't get used to with how much emotion you can feel from him. a rare thing.

"just give me a chance. please." his fingers dance around the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your back with how intimate you've let him get with you.

"...fine." you suppose it's alright to indulge in this feeling a little.

the pure joy that radiated off the man in front of you could really blind you.

"really!!!?! no take backs okay?? you swear?? promise me right now!!" his animated words come out quickly, with one of his hands lifted right in front of you with his pinky extended. cute. you extend yours as well and wrap it around his.

"you know what a pinky promise means snezhnaya right?"

"mhm." you've heard it from him one time during a midnight walk on the beaches of liyue (he insisted to come along so he could 'protect' you). "you make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. you break a pinkie promise, i throw you on the ice. the cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again."

childe's mind reels for a second, hearing you recite a simple nursery rhyme from his home country makes his heart pound even harder, yearning for your presence by his side.

"then we can get the rest of this set on with a cute little dress for our date later tonight at wanmin-"

"no."

"what~!! fine, minus the jewelry."

"no."

"why.."

"i don't want to eat at some fancy restaurant."

"...then at my place.?" his face has a light dust of pink on it.

"...fine. meet you at 7."

with that, you twist out of his hold (his hand snuck to the small of your back) and walk out of his office. childe is unable to push down the stupid grin that takes over his face throughout the whole day. the fatui recruits shiver at the thought of the maniacal smile that covers his murderous mood that day.

.

.

.

it doesn't take more than a few seconds before you hear a noise barreling at the door, flinging it open before tugging you inside, in a deathly embrace.

"hey!! i'm almost done with the last dish, come with me!!" his excited state pulls you with him barely letting you take off your shoes as you follow his long strides towards the kitchen.

his place his clean, light decor sprinkled around some corners. you see a lot of frames on the wall, with various people in each photo, all slightly resembling the ocean eyed man that you know. he must cherish his family.

the air is filled with the aroma of many fragrant dishes foreign to you. childe settles you on a dining chair before rushing towards the stoves. it allows you to see him don an adorable pink apron. you wish you brought your kamera.

"do you need help?"

"no, just sit there prettily and wait for me." he chimes out. you roll your eyes are his comment, but fail to keep your lips from stretching into a smile. your eyes don't leave his form, taking note of how this light makes him look softer, more domestic. you look at the way the muscles of his arm tense with every movement of the pan, the way his fingers expertly sprinkle spices, the way he hums a tune while cooking.

it's a nice view.

"enjoying the view?" his voice is filled with a teasing tone, as his face reads nothing but amusement and mirth.

"no, i'm looking at the food." you scoff, feeling your face heat up. he laughs and turns back to the pan.

eventually he finishes the last dish, and lays everything in front of you. you take note of the lack of ingredients you dislike.

"uh, i didn't know what dishes you like, so i hope you like these. they're some snezhnayian dishes i grew up with.." he's visibly worried, but you quickly quell those thoughts.

"it smells amazing. i want to try them all." he perks up and settles down.

"please, help yourself."

each bite you take makes you delight in the flavors that hit your tongue, your face lighting up with every dish you try.

childe can't describe the tugging in his heart as he observes each of your positive expressions as you enjoy the dishes he made.

the usually lonely and empty dinner table is filled with light chatter and giggles, replacing the void that left a cold bitterness in childe's heart.

after everything was completed finished with no leftovers, you take it upon yourself to wash the dishes, leaving no argument for childe when you threatened to take back your promise (he thinks that was too cruel of you to pull that over him).

he stands by you while you wash each dish, eventually shifting to tugging you against his chest as he rests his head on your shoulder. you bite back your complaint of the difficulty to move in the position when you hear his content sigh.

his heart is drunk on the pleasure of your presence that feels so natural in his life. the presence that fits perfectly in his present and future by his side, as his only lover.

he can't help but let his mind wander, thinking of the moments when you would visit his hometown, when you would meet his beloved family, when you would carry his younger siblings in your arms, when his family would dress you in traditional snezhnayian clothing.

these thoughts don't leave his mind, even as you finish up and he leads you to the couches, filling the silence with mindless chatter of his family when you ask more about himself.

you planned on leaving sooner or later, but you couldn't help but give yourself a few more minutes, listening to his voice for a little longer. the longer you stayed, the more comfortable you felt. eventually, you let yourself be lured into the darkness as you drift off.

childe carefully directs your head towards his shoulder when he sees you start to drowse off. he thinks you're attractive even when you're asleep. an angel sent from heaven.

the item in his pocket weighs a little heavier now. with a little hesitance, he carefully pulls it out, making sure not to disturb your sleep,

opening it up, the crystal gleams the same crimson glow as the one that dangles off his ear every day.

with cautious movements, he gently puts it on your ear. it rests softly against your jaw. his heart pounds so loudly he worries that it would wake you up.

ah, he should have given this to you sooner.

My Brother’s best Friend

Mattsukawa x Reader - requested by @shoulmate for the Haikyuu Request Game

Mild Angst to Fluff, 3700 words (my hand slipped)

You’re not all that fond of your teenage years. 

But maybe that’s just he curse of teenage life, to cringe looking back.

You're the little sister, two years between you and Toruu, twelve between you and Suzu.

With that age gap, it's only natural that you’d cling to Toruu more and beg him to take you on his adventures.

There are times you think he only did that because Iwa had a soft spot for you.

-

“Can you stop?” Toruu’s standing in the door to your room, wiping dirt of his trousers as you cry.

“But I wanna come!” 

“I don’t want you around all the time! We’re going to catch bugs and you think they’re disgusting.”

“Do not!”

“Do too! You just want to come because you think Iwa-chan is cute.”

“Do not!”

“Do too! You’re in love with him.” He singsongs the last part and you grab your pillow, throw it at him with all the strength a six-year-old can muster.

“Guys!” Your mom calls up from the doorway. “Iwa-chan is here. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready. She’s not coming.”

Toruu races down the stairs but you’re quick to follow him, wiping away your tears as you run.

“But I wanna come.”

Iwa’s wearing jeans that have been cut off at the knees, something you’ve begged your mom for two weeks already with no avail. 

He’s sending you a tooth-gaped smile, offering you a lollipop as if he’s handing out secrets.

“I don’t mind.” He says. “Besides, she behaves better than you, Oink-kawa.”

“She does not!” Toruu exclaims with his usual dramatics, getting more into it when he sees Iwa roll his eyes and smile at you as if you’re sharing a joke he’s not in on.

“Do too.” You stick out your tongue.

-

You see the Volleyball under Toruus arm and jump out of your bed.

“Training? I’m coming with you.”

He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

“You’re not even interested in volleyball. You’re just coming to see Iwa-chan.”

“No, I’m just there for Kageyama.”

Toruu fake gags and you throw your shoe at him, regretting it right away when he catches it and flings it up the stairs.

“Well, looks like you won’t make it in time.”

“Toruu, you ass!” You yell but he’s already out the door.

You do make it in time, mainly because Toruu keeps forgetting that you’ve joined the track team.

-

Kageyama is cute.

Not as cute as Iwa-chan, but no boy is worth the hissy fits Toruu throws when he thinks you’re spending too much time with his best friend. 

Calling Kageyama cute or agreeing to pass the ball to him still riles your brother up, but in a much safer way.

You don’t want to wake up with a shaved head or anything like that.

-

Somewhere along the lines you’ ve become a babysitter.

To Toruu, because he keeps neglecting his health in favor of beating Shittyjima and to Kageyama, because no one else is willing to spare him a minute of their time.

You know you’re not the right fit for either role.

After all, you can only handle so much.

You know Toruu doesn’t really mean to push you away whenever you come to his room. To remind him that he needs to eat, or get to bed on time, or to ask if he minds passing the ball to you.

It still hurts.

You know your parents don’t really mean anything by it when match after match passes without them attending. They’re busy, especially with helping Suzu now that she’s back at work and needs help babysitting.

But it hurts, even more when there’s no match of Toruu they’ve ever missed.

You know that Kageyama isn’t as mean as everyone pretends him to be. 

His social skills are worse than his grades and you’re the one tutoring him in your freetime.

But it still hurts when he’s yelling, reminding you that whatever you do, no matter how hard you try, you’ll never measure up to your big brother.

-

Seijoh is good for Toruu.

He’s still a dick when it comes to volleyball, but he’s got more friends than just Iwa now. 

There’s Hanamaki and Matsukawa now, or Maki and Mattsun as they like to be called.

They seem to have a soft spot for you too, but unlike Iwa they dare to tease you too.

-

“Oi, princess, you have dropped something.” Mattsun calls out when you walk past them studying in the kitchen.

“What?” You turn, confused. The only thing you were carrying was the glass of water that’s still firmly in your hand.

He bows down to pick something from the floor and holds it up to your face, hand closed around it.

His voice is nasally as he speaks, the dramatic flair almost too overdone. “My heart, mylady.”

When he opens his hand, he’s holding a bug.

The first time it happened you’d squealed in surprise.

But you grew up with a nuisance for a brother and recognize that plastic shine everywhere.

“Oh, I missed you.” You tell the fake bug, pick it out of his hand and fling it into your mouth, swallowing it whole.

An impressed smile dances around Mattsun's lips while Toruu gags in the corner.

“Nice.” Makki whispers somewhere on your side while Iwa brings out the important information.

“That one was real.” He says.

You roll your eyes and take a sip from your water, pretending to be less grossed out than you are.

“Grow up, boys.”

-

“Oi, Oikawa-chan.” 

Makki’s leaning in the doorframe, one arm up to showcase his biceps - the little fucker knows exactly what he’s doing. Half your class is ogling him already but you ignore him as you trudge over.

“What?” You ask.

He stretches out one hand, too quick to dodge, and pinches your cheek.

“Is that the right way to greet your senpai?”

You’re just as quick to stab your hand into his side, aiming for his sensitive ribs.

“Fuck.” He curses when you hit him where it hurts.

“Language.” Class president yells somewhere behind you and you push Makki out the door before you can get detention for his wrongdoings.

“What do you want?”

“Can’t I just come see you when I want?”

“You can, but that way I’ll never get a boyfriend. Now, spill.”

He grins and offers you a piece of chewing gum before actually telling you what he came for.

“I was sent to ask if anyone wants to apply for the manager position. We want to do it lowkey since Shittykawa is so popular.”

“Yeah, no, not doing that. I’m already part of the Girl’s Volleyball Club.”

He grunts. “Not you. The boys want someone pretty- Stop that!” He steps away just in time to avoid another hit.

“You know your peers. Pick someone who’s not going to faint at the sight of your brother.”

“Easy. Oba Makoto. He’s got heart problems and can’t do sports but he knows a lot about Volleyball. He’s tried hitting on me twice, so he’s probably got some taste and won’t fall for my brother.”

Makki pulls a face. “A boy? Ah, well, okay, I'll bring it up. We’re going out for ice cream after school. Do you want to pretend to be Mattsun’s date?”

“Again? Toruu’s not going to buy it.”

“True, true. We can put fake spider’s in his ice cream?” 

You ponder the offer for a moment. “Eh, it’s too soon to pull that kind of prank again. Besides, I should hit the gym after school. First years have to make an impression.”

“Fine. But you’re going as Mattsun’s date this weekend. There’s someone from my class who thinks he can’t pull girls and we have to set him straight.”

You roll your eyes. “Why would I do that?”

Makki grins deviously. “I have blackmail material?”

You shudder. “Fine. Text me the details later. I’ve got to get back to class.”

-

Iwa has the decency to say goodbye before he leaves for America.

It crushes the tiny bit of hope you’d nursed in the week - or so - since the news of Toruu’s upcoming departure. Without your brother here to supervise you, you could have explored what was left of your crush on him.

“You did a good job.” He says, awkwardly rubbing his neck as he stares at the trophies littering your shelves.

“Yeah, sure, I’m not bad.” You agree halfheartedly but he shakes his head.

“Not Volleyball, or the other stuff. I mean… with Oikawa. And Kageyama. You did what you could, I know.”

“Don’t.” You get up before he can tell you more stuff that you don’t need to hear. You don’t want him to talk about things like that. It makes you feel like you’ve done it all for his approval. In reality, you did it to have friends, to stay close to your brother.

And look how that turned out.

“Just hug me.” You tell Iwa, well aware that Toruu’s going to barge in any second, still immensely jealous of his friends. Well aware that your parents only allow Iwa in your room because there’s nothing going to happen. Ever.

You allow yourself to cry a little bit over it, but only when he’s gone and Toruu’s bedroom door has closed behind him too.

-

College is so much harder than you thought it would be.

You barely make it onto the Volleyball team, you’re behind on your reading, your assignments, cleaning your room.

All you want is to go home for the weekend and hide under your sheets until mom calls for dinner.

Instead you dress up for a party you don’t want to go to, invited by a guy you can’t even remember the name off.

But he’s two years older than you and the thought that he could be interested - and that Toruu’s not here to ruin it - is exhilarating.

-

Hours later you stumble down the stairs outside, the world spinning around you.

You’re going to throw up any second, you think, or crash into something.

Someone grabs your arm instead and you turn, hand raised to slap whoever’s daring to touch you.

“Whoa, princess, chill! It’s me.”

There’s only one person in the world calling you that.

“Mattsun?” You blink up at him, half of his face light up by a streetlamp. It’s him, but he looks concerned.

“You’re not okay?” You ask him, your tongue struggling to form the words.

“I should ask you that.”

“‘m fine.” You stagger a bit. “Just… need to throw up, I think.”

“When’s the last time you ate something?” 

Why does he wanna know, you wonder, as you try to figure out the answer to his question.

“Well, I had breakfast. And they had some crackers inside, but they tasted awful.”

“Yeah, come on.” He pulls you forward slightly, slinging one arm around your back to keep you upright. “Let’s go get you something to eat. What do you think of Chicken Nuggets?”

“Yay,” you sway slightly as you try to do a happy dance, “Chicken Nuggies!”

-

Maybe it’s the bright light or the fact that the world has stopped spinning after Chicken Nuggets, fries and two cups of coffee, but Mattsun looks worried as he watches you dip the last of his fries into the ketchup.

He also looks older and taller, if that’s even possible.

“Why were you at that party?” He asks.

You shrug. “Got invited.”

He sighs. “But drinking? You’re what-”

“I’m nineteen,” you remind him, “Two years younger than you.”

He looks unconvinced and you lean forward to glare at him. 

“You threw up on Toruu when you were 17, piss drunk after trying my father’s sake.”

He has the decency to blush at the memory.

Silence falls over the two of you.

It’s a comfortable silence, even after so much time passing. 

You’ve barely seen Mattsun in the last two years. He’s been at your graduation, Makki too. But it had always felt a bit forced, wether it was them watching one of your matches or taking you out to ice cream on a random tuesday after school because they were College boys and could afford it.

It always felt like the shadow of your brother kept looming over you, reminding you that he was supposed to be at the table with you, Iwa included.

Mattsun clears his throat and you look up, surprised at the serious look on his face.

“Oikawa is going to kill me for this,” he mumbles before raising his voice to a normal volume. “What’s your schedule like? We could go to the cinema this weekend. There’s this new movie from that series you’ve always watched?”

You blink, surprised that he noticed that. He’s never been one for movies, not like Makki and you. He’d always rather stayed in and watched a rerun of his favorite series or blackmail Toruu to let you play Mario Kart with the four of them.

“Sure. Makki coming too?”

He blushes again, but this time without obvious reason.

“No. It would be just the two of us.”

You blink again. “Do I have to pretend to be your girlfriend? Do you know someone working at the Cinema?”

The sigh Mattsun lets out could move mountains.

“What?” You ask, defensively.

“I’m asking you out. On a date. A real date.” He presses the words out between his teeth, his hands already in his hair, pulling at the strands in thinly veiled despair.

“Oh.” You make. Then. “Oh?” And “OH!”

“Yeah.” The smile he’s giving you looks painful. 

“But-” You start, but close your mouth again, too stunned to speak.

Mattsun rubs at a spot of dried ketchup on the table, his face the colour of Makki’s hair.

“Like, I’ve been trying to for years, but you always ask if Makki’s coming too. And I thought I’d have more time to get you to like me like that, but you’re already going to parties you probably shouldn’t be at and, well, better shoot my shot now and get an honest reaction than just keep hoping, right?”

There are a million things you want to say, and a million more you want to ask.

But in a way, it all makes sense, looking back.

How he’s always called you princess, has always been the only one doing it.

The fact that he’s never missed a game of yours or had a really good excuse.

Makki always having an excuse to get you to pretend you’re Mattsun’s girlfriend.

Iwa might have been your first crush but you’d always been closer to Mattsun than any of them, even your brother.

You laugh at the absurdity of it, how you’ve been to blind to see it until you. 

“Toruu would hate that.” You say and realize, just as you say it, that you don't care. "Sure. Let's go out."

You stretch your hand out to shake his, to press his absurdly large hand, and grin mischievously back at him.

“But let’s keep it a secret from him. Just for now. I want something just for the two of us.”

The smile that’s growing on his face now, slow at first, but faster by the second, is something you’ve never seen before. Something you want to see again and again and again.

-

"Makki knows," Mattsun tells you as you wait in line for the popcorn.

You'd been obsessing over what to wear for hours, even going as far as to text some of the girls from your high school Volleyball team.

"So you finally started caring?" One of them asked and you'd chewed on that thought up until the moment Mattsun knocked on your door, his hair messed up just the right amount, his cheeks a little pinker than usual.

"He's not going to tell Toruu or Iwa, is he?"

"Nah." Mattsun shakes his head and if his hand brushes yours on accident, it stays where it is, the warmth of his hand seeping into yours.

You kiss him in the middle of the movie, not caring for whatever is happening on the screen.

He tastes like the candies you used to share on your fake dates in High School and the hopeful thrill of the future.

-

"Hey, Princess." Mattsun's waiting outside the gym, his large hand enclosing yours as you step closer and he bends down to press a kiss to your lips. "Great game."

"Thanks, I know." You wave at the girls leaving, some of them waving back at you.

"You look tired." You tell Mattsun as he leads you down the street towards the bus station, your hands swinging between you.

"That internship is kicking my ass." He tells you, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. "And I still need to write that assignment I told you about."

"You haven't finished yet?"

"No." He yawns loudly. "But I took some notes while you were warming up."

"Babe." You stop in front of the subway entrance and look up at him. "I love that you come to all my games, but that assignment is more important."

He smiles. "I love when you get all serious."

"I love you." 

Pink floods his cheeks at your words. You're surprised, that they slipped out just like that, but you're not taking them back, too sure of their truth.

"You know." He mumbles awkwardly, "I always thought you had a crush on Iwa. Makki was the one shipping the two of us."

“I did have a crush on him.” You agree, your hand pressing his to let him know there’s more coming. “When I was, I don’t know, seven years old?”

Mattsun’s face lights up with one of his cheekiest grins. “What? You were not into his biceps?”

“Nah. Turns out I’m more into idiots who tell me fun facts about embalming.”

His smile turns wicked. “Yeah? Guess what; I’ve got some you probably haven’t heard yet.”

-

It’s one of those mornings where not enough sleep does not mix well with trying to act human.

A phone rings somewhere on your left and you grab it, trying to silence the alarm without looking. Instead you hear the well known sound of a video call connecting.

Your brain isn’t as quick as the internet these days and you’re still blinking into the camera as Iwa blinks back, less tired but more confused.

“I thought I called Mattsun-” He starts at the same time reality introduces itself to your brain. You fling the phone through the room and it lands on the carpet next to the door, the call still connected.

You scramble out of bed, well aware now that you look like you’ve spent the night not sleeping - it’s the upcoming exams, you swear - wearing one of Mattsun’s old shirts.

Iwa’s still calling your name and you pick up the phone again, staring at him with as much determination as you can muster.

“No word to Toruu.”

He looks as tired as you’ve felt just minutes ago. “Sure. Sure. I don’t even wanna know. Can you bring Mattsun on the call?” 

-

“Hey Princess,” Mattsun greets you when you stumble through the door of his shared apartment, bags of groceries in your hands.

“Hey.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him on the lips, handing half of the bags to him. “I got the new Ramen you like.”

“Get a room.” Makki groans from the kitchen table where he’s working on assignments.

“Sure.” You tell him, “But the walls aren’t soundproof.”

“Not fair.” He whines. “Why don’t I have a girlfriend?”

“No clue.” You tell him as you start unpacking. “Maybe it’s because you have no job?”

“An unflattering hairstyle?” Mattsun offers.

“Because you chew with your mouth open?”

“Because you always lose in Mario Kart?”

Makki huffs at that. “The disrespect I have to endure in my own home. Oh, Shittykawa is calling.” He picks up before you can tell him not to, leaving you to dive under the kitchen counter. 

Mattsun is left standing next to you, hiding his laughter at your situation in his palm as he nudges you with his foot.

“I’m gonna bite you.” You tell him, showcasing your teeth.

“Sure, if that’s your kink.” Mattsun teases, only for Makki to yell “I told you to get a room!” 

This time, however, Toruu hears it too.

“Who’re you talking to?”

“Eh. Mattsun’s girlfriend.”

“Mattsun has a girlfriend?” You can hear your brother’s voice clearly, the curiosity in his voice. 

Just above your head, Mattsun wiggles his fingers, a silent sign for you to take his hand and get up, to let go of that secret. After all, everyone else already knows.

And what’s Toruu even gonna do? He’s all the way in Argentina.

That’s the thought that pushes you to grip his hand and shoot up from behind the kitchen counter, mischievous grin on your lips.

“You called?” You ask.

“Is that my sister?” Toruu’s voice reaches a height you’ve never heard before.

Makki looks at you, sees you nod and turns his laptop so that you and Mattsun are in full view.

“If you don’t like it, that’s your problem.” Your voice is calm but your heart still races.

“But I thought you liked Iwa.” Your brother just looks confused.

You laugh, wholeheartedly, mountains toppling off your chest. “Dude, you’re so bad at reading women, it’s no surprise you’re still chasing a ball.”

Toruu gapes at you. “The disrespect.” He calls out. “Mattsun! I thought you were my friend!”

“Nah.” Mattsun grins and pulls you closer. “I know which Oikawa I’m picking.”

“Makki?” Toruu asks, his pout even audible in his voice.

“Depends on if she’s cooking tonight,” Makki tells him. “I can be bought with good food.”

“You can cook yourself.” You tell him and he pulls a face.

“And I’m Shittykawa’s friend again.”

You listen to them talk on with only half an ear, distracted by the way Mattsun grins down at you.

“What?” You ask.

“Went better than expected?” He asks. You shrug. His grin grows.

“What?” You ask.

Instead of an answer, he leans down to kiss you. You step on your tiptoes in anticipation, meeting him halfway.

Somewhere behind you, you hear the sentence that has grown to be the soundtrack of your relationship, now spoken by two voices instead of one.

“Get a room!”

my Kofi if you want to tip me

𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤

summary: he didn't mean to push you away so harshly, to build his walls so high, but he didn't expect you to go running to someone else... pairing: zoro x reader, slight law x reader cw: unrequited feelings (or are they?), angst, no comfort an: set in wano, with some minor tweaks! thought of this last night and had to share my pain...oops also, i plan to have some fluffy straw hat stuff out this weekend ♡( ◡‿◡ ) wc: 3.4k

you'd been harboring feelings for your vice captain, for a while. you never acted on it, his aloof nature making you too nervous to make that jump- to try. even then, you were sure that he had more pressing matters to attend to.

so, you kept it under wraps. you trained and laughed and did everything you were supposed to, did everything right, without letting your feelings get too much in the way. it was manageable, and it made you feel good that you could support your crew, even if it meant holding onto your feelings.

it was the little things that gave you away to him. how your eyes darted away a bit too quickly when he met your gaze, how you sometimes intentionally stood farther away from him in a bid to look inconspicuous, even though it made it so much more obvious. he was as dumb as a rock sometimes, yeah, but not when it came to his crew, not when it came to you. he knew. of course he knew, but he had no reason to call you out on it. clearly you didn't want to discuss it and, as long as it wasn't getting in the way of anything major, he could bear it. it was when your emotions served as a distraction, that things became complicated.

the land of wano brought with it many challenges. most where physical, be it sneaking around the shady capital or handling some rowdy criminals. having crew members split up also made you worried, only heightening your senses and making your brain run rampant with what ifs. it all comes to a sudden standstill when you and brook, on your way to the safe house, walk in on zoro. one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen is snuggled right into his side and you feel a twinge of envy.

your heart does a somersault in your chest, something twisting in your gut at the unusual sight. a part of you, the rational side, knows very well that zoro didn't let people into his personal space with such ease. yet, even with her explanation, your mood can't help but sour. it only worsens when you all sit down and discuss more pressing matters.

the stresses of wano, this whole hiyori situation and her ever present enthusiasm towards the swordsman has you itching to escape. your responses become curt and your hands twitch in your lap. it's not how you should be acting, not given the circumstances, but you can't help it. finally, when there's a break in the conversation, you politely dismiss yourself.

once outside, you take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. leaning against the wall of the safe house, you let out a sigh and stare off at some random point in the distance in a bid to quell your passive aggressive behavior. the sound of the door opening catches you off guard, your arms crossing over your chest as the swordsman approaches you with a hardened expression.

"the hell is up with that look on your face?" he'd grumble, his cold demeanor matching the chill in the air. his arms are crossed, his posture tense. while zoro was one to take things as they came, focusing on the present, he couldn't deny that wano and its secrets were gnawing at him as well. he was irritated, wondering why you'd even bother to think about something as miniscule as feelings while there were enemies and actual threats lurking about. when you don't answer, when he figures you wouldn't even have the guts to bring it up, he huffs. "you think I asked to be cuddled up to like a damn toy?" his eye narrows and he takes a step closer, challenging you. "I don't have feelings for her, or anyone, got it?" the lump in your throat is too large to swallow and you nod, incapable of much else. a torrent of sensations swirl in your chest: embarrassment that he'd been aware of your feelings this whole time, guilt for letting them get in the way, and a bitter resounding sting that came with rejection. with a click of his tongue, he turns back and heads into the safe house, mumbling something about pulling yourself together and focusing on what's important.

you're almost glad when zoro ends up splitting off with hiyori later on, your mind flooded with thoughts. in a bid to defend yourself from further pain, you get your act together and squash down those feelings. you do well to put on a brave and happy face, deciding that, yes, there are some more important matters to attend to.

despite that, it's still hard not to see the samurai a bit differently. you knew he was blunt, even harsh at moments, but his approach to such a sensitive topic was a little much for you to handle. even if his words held some truth, that there were more pressing matters to attend to, the delivery of it just made you feel uneasy and hurt. the rest of your encounters are just as quick, your words just as clipped. if you acted any differently towards him, it wasn't out of malice. subconsciously, you defend yourself from further embarrassment and give him the distance you think he needs. while the chaos ensues, your defense mechanism only serves as a temporary solution. once the dust settled, it would be a different story.

finally, when the horrors of wano are dealt with, you can breathe a minor sigh of relief. in the flower capital, alongside your crew mates, you patiently wait for luffy and zoro to awaken from their slumbers. when they finally do, the air feels lighter

in the wake of it all, your emotions catch up to you, which makes you feel worse since this was supposed to be a joyful moment. it's hard to fight that initial instinct, to head over to zoro and ask if he's alright or if he needs anything. yet, you force yourself to take a step back, even if it does look like his bandages need tending to. it's a lot easier to do so once hiyori reveals that she was the one to help bathe him while he was unconscious, your stomach churning as you look away and walk to a different corner of the room. clearly he had someone looking out for him already. with a polite and slightly forced smile on your face, you find yourself heading over to law, who sits in the corner and chooses to observe the moment rather than partake in any conversation. you'd gotten along well with the surgeon, your relationship only growing stronger as he spent more time with the straw hats. he respected your skills and your perceptiveness, your ability to adapt to the needs of those around you and make them feel at ease. when he hears you approaching, he's naturally wary, but relents and gives you a nod, saying your name as a way of greeting you. satisfied, you take a seat next to him and raise a hand to gesture at his arm. "I know you're a surgeon and all, but d'ya think I can help you with your bandages?" you ask him, sincere and with a soft smile. "y'know, before this whole alliance thing is over and all..." he wants to say no, but the genuine kindness in your eyes has him huffing and looking away. a reddish hue tinges his cheeks and he holds out his arm. "go ahead." his tone fights to maintain its usual indifference, though there's a hint of appreciation laced in. on the opposite side of the room, where hiyori 'fixed' his bandages much too tight, zoro glances over at you. he notes the way you visibly relax around the surgeon, an action that has him growing irritated. he was your crew mate, your nakama, someone who would keep you safe, not that second rate captain. when the bandages cut off his circulation, he growls in frustration and tears some of them off. why weren't you over here doing this for him, when you knew exactly how he liked his bandages? why were you tending to law so gently and giving him that smile, the one you hadn't given him in ages? the swordsman isn't blind. he's been aware of the distance you've put between the two of you, how your 'smile' drops as soon as you turn away from him. as the battles had come to an end, he's now forced to recall the events which occurred at the safe house. he curses as his own shortcomings, his inability to think twice about his actions and how they'll affect the future. turning his attention towards something else, he mentally chides himself. what did he care, after all? he didn't do the whole relationship thing, the whole soft and squishy feelings. he was a swordsman, he had a goal and a crew to protect, including you. his thoughts do little to fight off the twinge of possessiveness he feels when he instinctively looks in your direction and catches sight of you holding law's hand as you secured his bandage. something gnaws at his pride, but he pushes it aside for the sake of maintaining his stoic front.

once everyone is healed, a festival, a grand one, is thrown to celebrate the liberation of wano. lanterns illuminate almost every corner, the scent of food wafting through the air as citizens and samurai and pirates all gather around.

dressed in a lovely kimono of your choice, you're more than eager to join in the revelry. the two bottles of sake that you carry in your hands only highlights your enthusiasm. you'd been hanging around with the crew for a while, smiling and laughing, but your mind was elsewhere. zoro thinks, for a split second, that you'll hand him a bottle. despite his aloof nature, he'd always find himself sharing a drink with you at times like this. yet, when you walk in the opposite direction, your smile beaming, your words have him gritting his teeth. "m'gonna go have a drink with law!" you chirp, your excitement palpable.

zoro's jaw clenches as he watches you walk off, his eyes lingering on your figure before he looks away. something simmers beneath the surface, but he keeps it at bay. it's nami's offhand comment that his frustration threatening to boil over.

"don't have too much fun!" she teases, throwing a cheeky smile your way. the others have the nerve to laugh, to egg you on, all while the swordsman relishes in how the alcohol burns his throat.

his knuckles turn white as he grips the neck of his sake bottle, the glass straining against his hold. a plethora of unfamiliar emotions rattle in his chest, but his bullheadedness and pride have him unwilling to budge, even if he wants to grab your arm and pull you back. it wasn't his place.

even when you're out of sight, his eyes subconsciously work to peer through the crowd in an attempt to catch a glimpse of your kimono, your hair, anything. once again, he scolds himself. he had no place to be so... so what? envious? possessive? he was the one to turn you away, after all. regardless, he can't get your smile out of his head. memories of you flood his mind: the banter and the sparring matches at sunset. all of it. just as quickly, he catches himself, bringing his lips to the bottle in a bid to drown out the bitterness on his tongue.

it's nearly a full hour later when you return to the crew, more than buzzed and clinging to the arm of the raven-haired surgeon. he doesn't seem to mind, his furrowed brows and his apathetic expression doing little to hide the blush dusting his cheeks.

glad to be in the company of your crew mates once more, you turn to law and wrap your arms around his waist, your smile so genuine and radiant it makes zoro's chest ache. "thank you traffy!"

the laughter of the rest of the crew echoes in zoro's ears alongside his own thundering heartbeat and boiling blood. what the hell were you doing? a knot forms in his chest, the unfamiliar sensation bringing him a great sense of unease.

he has to force himself to look away, before he realizes that it's not enough. without excusing himself, he stands and walks off towards a more secluded part of the festival. he needs to get away from whatever all that is. he needs to clear his head and heart and steel himself because he shouldn't be focusing on such things.

if you were any more sober, you would've kept your distance. however, it's in your nature to care, to worry and ensure that your crew mates are okay. that's why, as soon as you register the fact that the swordsman is gone, you release your hold on the surgeon and follow after zoro.

it's almost silent, save for the sounds of the festival off in the distance. the streets in this part of the capital aren't as illuminated, but cast enough of a glow for you to see zoro up ahead.

"zoro?" you mumble, attentive despite the alcohol in your system. "what're you doin' all the way out here?" your words are so genuine and full of concern, which makes it all the harder for zoro to respond.

"huh? what does it look like?" he roughly replies, not even bothering to fully face you as he turns his head to the side. "needed a break from all the noise and drunken idiots."

something bubbles in his throat, a lump of guilt that he swallows for the sake of self-preservation. he knows he has no right to be so callous, but can't help the passive-aggressive comment that slips past his lips. "why don't you just go off with that surgeon of yours? seems like better company."

your stomach drops and you take a step back. something wedges itself into your chest, a sense of anxiety and confusion as your mind briefly flickers back to that moment at the safe house. you'd done everything right, hadn't you? you'd given him space and pushed your feelings aside for the sake of the mission, so why this?

your heart starts to race, unable to look him in the eye as you focus your gaze to the side.

"why're you bein' so mean to me...?" you murmur, your hands nervously fidgeting as you await his answer. you just wanted to make things right.

he has to turn away once he catches the hurt on your face. if you were any more sober, you would've caught how he was the one that was truly nervous. the way you threatened to break down the walls he had built for himself has him needing to take control, even if that meant pushing you away.

"m'just being honest." he says, sharper than he means to. "leave me alone. go and enjoy the rest of the damn festival."

regret and longing make his chest throb, but he keeps on his mask of indifference as he takes a step forward and away from you. he wouldn't budge, couldn't.

meanwhile, you stand there, your inhales slowly turning short and ragged. your lips tremble and you fight to hold back sobs, but shortly after, you start to sniffle.

you hated crying, really crying. the crew had seen you shed silly little tears before, maybe over something cute or emotional, but not this. it's something you usually hide away and display in private, but the nature of the situation and the influence of the alcohol have you shedding an uncontrollable amount of tears.

though you shouldn't be, the utter vulnerability of the moment has you feeling embarrassed. you find solace in your sleeves, the kimono becoming damp with tears that don't seem to end. your cheeks sting, rubbed raw as you hide away from him.

zoro's heart drops.

the sound of your sobs is devastating. guilt claws at his chest, threatening to crack him open. when he turns around, all he can feel is regret. the weight of his words, how he treated you, is almost unbearable and makes him feel disgusted with himself.

his mind is racing, wondering what he should do or say to fix this, but he can't come up with an answer. before he can do anything, his mind goes blank at your next words.

"I wish I never got feelings for you." you choke out, unsure if your words are genuine or if you simply wanted to hurt the swordsman. with your shoulders trembling, you continued to cry into your sleeves. "I should've figured that there was nothing in that heart of yours."

deciding that you couldn't stand being in the same vicinity as him anymore, you run off.

he watches you go, his heart screaming at him to go after you, but he can't. the walls crumble and he can't hide anymore, forcing himself to realize that he cares for you so much that it terrifies him. the air is thick with tension, your sobs echoing through the air until they fade away, replaced by the distant sounds of the festival.

regret, self-loathing and longing all swirl in his chest, a torrent of emotion that threatens to swallow him whole.

you don't make it back to the ship that night.

you're too embarrassed and ashamed, not feeling safe enough to be vulnerable. you mentally apologize to the crew, hoping that they aren't too worried.

it isn't until the next morning that you return, or rather, you're returned.

the sun barely peeks over the horizon when law walks aboard the thousand sunny go with you cradled in his arms. you're in a deep sleep, completely exhausted and hungover. you're dressed in some of his clothes, your expression peaceful despite what occurred the night before.

other members of the crew gather around, worried about your well-being, but law is quick to say that you were just hungover and must have gotten lost. however, zoro can tell by the sharp look that law gives him that there was more to the story.

the vice captain grits his teeth, shoulders tensing as he watches law gently carry you over to your quarters.

a part of zoro wants to force law to give him answers, to tear you out of his arms so he could cradle you in his. he should've been the one to care for you, to protect you when you were vulnerable, but he hurt you instead. something else nags at him, the fact that you sought solace in someone else's arms.

law comes out of your room, quietly closing the door before walking down the deck. as he walks by zoro, he doesn't stop, but he shoots him another hardened glare. "you're an idiot, roronoa-ya."

oh, zoro knows.

when you finally awaken, you put on a brave face and tell the rest of the crew that you were sorry about your little slip up. you do well to cover it up with a laugh and smile. you build walls of your own, adamant on not getting hurt again.

it's once the crew is happy and satisfied that you make your way back to your room, your head hanging low as you walk by zoro.

your legs come to a stop and you can only hold his gaze for a second before you look away, just wanting to put this chapter behind you. the ache in your chest grows as you wonder what could've been. your voice is small. "look..." you start, hands bunching up into the borrowed shirt you're wearing. "let's just forget this ever happened and stay friends... alright?"

'forget?' he thinks. 'how can I forget that look on your face? the sounds of your sobs? do you think i'd let you go so easily?'

yet, despite the war raging on inside of him, the words stay stuck in his throat.

"yeah." what am i saying? "just friends."

as he watches you walk back to your room, he feels defeated. pathetic. he wants to say more, to show you that he can be the man you deserve, but for now, he sinks back into his usual habits and wonders what could have been.

he knows that he let something precious slip away.

steeling himself, he holds his heavy heart high. a sliver of determination cuts through his clouded mind and he hopes that, one day, he can make things right.

Quiet as a Cat, Sneaky as a Spider🕷 | Spider-Man No Way Home MASTERLIST

Contains spoilers for Spider-Man: No Way Home

Pairings: Tobey!Spider-Man x female!Reader Black Cat (Romantic) , Andrew!Spider-Man (Platonic/flirtatious), Tom!Spider-Man (Platonic), Michele Jones-Watson (Platonic), Ned Leeds (Platonic). Dr. Otto Octavious (Platonic/Flirtatious).

Premise: Having been pulled into another universe where an alternate version of her once on-again/off-again lover and occasional nemesis/ally exists, Y/N L/N finds herself having to suit up again as her long retried anti-hero persona in order to help three SpiderMen face off against some familiar faces causing trouble in New York City.

Content Warnings: Fluff, Angst, spoilers for SMNWH, profanity, violence, implications of sex through innuendoes, flirtatious banter, references to past SA trauma, mentions of death

Black Cat theme from the Spider-Man PS4 game

Note: For this series, it will be told in third person POV and although it is a reader insert it will be as though the reader is a version of Felicia Hardy/Black Cat from Tobey’s universe. I’ll also be taking inspiration from her in the Spider-Man game as well as her comic persona. Think of it like she is Tobey!Peter love interest instead of Mary Jane. I do not own any characters from Marvel Comics, Marvel Studios and all affiliated with them. All rights belong to the owners and this is just fan-fiction for fans pleasure. This series contains MAJOR spoilers for Spider-Man No Way Home, so if you have not seen it then please do not read this yet.

Series Chapter List:

Quiet As A Cat: On the hunt for multiversal beings that were pulled into his universe after a botched spell gone wrong, young Peter Parker falls into a game of cat & mouse when a woman in black with a grappling hook manages to escape his every move.

The Spiders Chit-Chat: While crafting the cures for the five villains, the three Peters get to talking which leads to the youngest of the bunch learning the identity of the mystery woman, and the oldest discovering why he hadn’t heard from a certain someone all day.

Sneaky As A Spider: The three Peters come face-to-face with the master escape artist donned in a new suit, who happens to have a very personal connection with the older Spider-Man in their group.

Trying To Do Better, Yet Brilliant But Lazy: The Spider-Men are up against the fight of their lives when former enemies from the past work together to destroy the ritual box needed to sent them back home. With a little help from two high school students, and a escape artist with a knack of bad luck behind her, familiar faces are reacquainted. Some for better, and some for worse.

3 Is The Magic Number: Goodbyes are hard, but necessary for the greater good. The young Peter makes a decision that alters his life forever, and a certain cat has one last piece of advice not just for him, but the Peter still haunted by his greatest mistake.

ᥫ᭡。 flicker.

⟢ pairing: kuroo x fem!reader

⟢ summary: when you’re young and in love, it’s easy to forget that life can be far crueler than it should be at 18. but it’s also easy to forget that life can work in wonderful ways too. sometimes, you just have to wait a little for it.

⟢ cw: fluff, mild hurt/comfort, breakups, exes to lovers, mutual pining

⟢ wc: 5.1k

⟢ a/n: a slightly edited repost of a fic I wrote a couple of years ago :3

The last moment you spent with Kuroo was unremarkable. 

“Swap.”

“But I like this one.” 

“You know the rules.” With a resigned sigh you hand him your can of lychee soda, gingerly taking his bottle of aloe vera juice. Eyeing the cloudy, slightly greenish liquid, you grimace before you reluctantly raise it to your lips. You take a sip and wrinkle your nose in disgust. 

“I can’t believe you actually like this shit.” 

“Don’t be dramatic, you’ve just got childish taste buds. Besides, it’s good for you”

“I do not!” you scoff, hitting his shoulder lightly. 

“Uh-huh. And this is coming from the girl who drinks artificially flavoured sugary juice.”

“Give it back then if you don’t like it,” you huff, making a grab for it. 

“No.” He holds the can out of reach of your outstretched hand, which is not much of a feat considering how long his arms are. “It’s mine now.” 

“But you don’t even like it!” you whine. 

“Don’t care,” he shrugs, taking a sip. 

“Even if all your teeth fall out from the sugar, old man?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly.

“I’ll get dentures,” he grins, throwing you a teasing wink. “I’m sure I can make the fake teeth work. Anything’s possible when you look like this.”

“Oh, shut up will you.” You scowl at him, slumping back down on his bed beside him and sipping at the remainder of his drink in annoyance, pushing down the strong urge to spit it at him. It would be funny, and maybe start a gross little war between you, but you’re not really in the mood for that right now. 

Silence falls between you again, an obnoxiously frequent visitor on this clear, starry night. Your head falls on Kuroo’s shoulder just as his arm finds your waist and tucks you closer into his side, fingers tracing shapes over your hip. A few months ago, he would be laughing nervously and trying his hardest to play it cool, all while a hot blush lit up his cheekbones and ears. There’s very few traces of that shy boy left. You miss him a little. 

“Feels weird now that we’ve graduated,” you muse. “It’s all downhill from here.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” he scolds lightly. “We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us!” 

“Here we go.”

You groan as he starts his rant about life and things that are too abstract and far away into the future for you to think about. Turning your head, you watch him excitedly talk about possibilities and plans and your heart weighs down in your chest. 

This will be the last time. 

“Tetsu,” you interrupt quietly.

“Yeah?” 

“I want you to forget me after I’ve left.” You can feel how Kuroo tenses all of a sudden, the lines of his body stilling as his grip on you tightens protectively. Defiantly. 

“Woah, woah, woah- why would I do that?” he asks worriedly. You sigh heavily, sitting up so that you can look at him. He knows why. You’ve had this conversation before, several times in fact. 

“To make it easier. For both of us. We’ve talked about this before, and I’ve been thinking that it would be best.” you tell him gently, even though every cell in your body tells you not to. 

“But I don’t want to forget you,” he says stubbornly. “And who exactly is this easier for? Don’t you even want to try making this work long distance? I think we can do it.” 

“I don’t want to end up resenting you.” Kuroo’s brows pinch together. “What if I neglect you, or you neglect me? What then? What if we start hating each other?”

“You won’t! We’ll call and text everyday, it’ll be like you never left! That’s what technology is for, sweetheart.”

“But we’ll only manage to squeeze in a couple of hours each day at best because of the timezone differences and even then we might not manage that! You know it doesn’t make sense,” you point out. Your tone softens as you take his hand in yours, running your thumb soothingly over his knuckles. “You’re usually so logical, Tetsu, this isn’t like you.”

Kuroo sighs, tugging you in to rest against his chest. It’s so natural now, so effortless, how you fall into each other’s embrace. Like being there was written for you from the start. 

“Not always. Love isn’t logical y’know. You taught me that,” he murmurs into your hair. “Love tells me that I should keep you here, safe in my arms, not let you go halfway across the world for university.”

“Tetsu, you know-“

“I know, I know. Believe me, I know. I’d never hold you back, no matter what. But you can’t ask me to be logical when every cell in my body refuses to let you go. You can’t ask me to forget you because I would never be able to. How could I ever forget someone I love?” 

You cling to him more tightly, cursing every divine power that has decided to wedge itself between you. Why the fuck has life led you in this direction? It’s cruel. Unfair. 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you mumble.

“I’m not. And despite what you say, I know you won’t forget me either. Doing this now, or before you leave, or not at all, is going to hurt us at some point.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” 

You sit up to look at him again, meeting melancholic eyes that mirror your own turmoil. Tenderly, he brushes your hair back, long fingers lingering on your cheek. 

“You might be right about the long distance thing not working,” he admits quietly. “I don’t want to give up on us but… I guess it makes sense to. We’re young, we’ll be busy - how many high school couples even last a long distance?”

“Not many, I don’t think.”

“Right. Then, for tonight, I want you to pretend with me. Let’s pretend that you’re not leaving me next week, and that we’ll see each other tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that.”

“Will that help?” you ask sadly. He smiles ruefully and shakes his head, his dark hair bouncing with the action. 

“No. But I don’t wanna be sad about you going just yet.”

And you do just that. You talk and laugh, share stories and snacks, holding onto each other all the while through kisses and giggles. It’s pure bliss, this little bubble you’ve blown around yourselves in Kuroo’s bedroom. 

But it’s sullied by the ticking of the clock on his wall that you can’t help but repeatedly glance at. And as thatclock nears midnight and you know it’s time to leave, your heart begins to ache desperately. 

His hands rest on your hips as you stand before his closed door. When your lips meet, it’s not like your usual goodbye kisses, which are sweet and chaste. This kiss quickly becomes a deep, needy, yearning thing that you can’t pull yourself out of. You drown in the sensation of his slightly chapped lips, get lost in the taste of his still-shy tongue, melt right into the contours of his body.

You don’t even realise the two of you are crying until you pull away. You’re breathless and sobbing a little, clinging to him so tightly you’re sure it hurts him, but it doesn’t matter. 

Leaving hurts more. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you whisper. “I wanna stay with you.” He kisses your tears away, resting his forehead against yours and squeezing your frame. 

“I’m not dying or anything, why are you crying?” he teases wetly.  

“You’re crying too, dumbass.”

“So what if I am?” he sniffles, pressing tender kisses to your forehead. “My pretty girl’s leaving me forever.”

“I don’t want to, Tetsu.”

“I know, but you’ll be okay, baby. We’ll be okay,” he says, shushing you gently, but neither of you believe it for a second. 

And why would you? 

You’re 18. Young and stupid. Freshly graduated with the world at your feet and the whole of adulthood stretching on before you, a winding path that you can’t fully see. 

And yet, this is your world, right here in your arms. 

All this time, he has been by your side, naturally, but he won’t be following you into the great unknown, as much as he wishes he could. He’s seeing you off on your journey now, parting ways with you as he embarks on his own, in a different direction, even though he wants you to stay with him. He watches you from the front door as you leave, blowing you a kiss and yelling his love after your retreating figure. 

This is what it means to grow up. 

This is goodbye. 

And you both fucking hate it. 

It takes a good while to nurse your broken hearts, made more difficult by the fact that you have to adjust to new environments and new people as you heal. But you grieve and you grow and the years pass by in the blink of an eye. 

Seven years have passed since that tearful night. Seven years of study, study, study and then work, work, work. You moved back to Japan a year or so after graduating university, homesick from so many years away. You visited during that time of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as living out your daily life in the hustle and bustle of Tokyo. 

And maybe, just maybe, a small part of you dreamed that you would bump into him. Wishful thinking perhaps, but you couldn’t quite tamp down all of your feelings towards the rooster-haired captain. There’s still a small flame flickering in the depths of your heart just for him and it’s this very flame that keeps you warm on some nights. 

You wonder if that same flame burns in his own chest for you. 

The convenience store is a welcome reprieve from the summer heat that bears down on you intensely. The sounds of passing cars is muffled as the doors slide shut behind you, leaving only the whir of the air conditioner and the gentle warble of a pop group playing quietly over the radio to accompany you. 

You drift towards the back where the fridges are situated, absently inspecting bags of snacks as you pass and touching a box of pocky before changing your mind and continuing on. There’s a blast of cool air when you pull the fridge door open and hold it there with your hip as you scan the selection of beverages on display. There’s one in particular that catches your eye, conjuring a memory forth from the depths of your mind. 

With a nostalgic smile, you reach in and grasp the can of lychee soda, only for your hand to bump into one much larger than yours. 

“Ah, sorry about that,” says a smooth, deep voice. The sound sends a chill down your spine that has nothing to do with the temperature of the open fridge. 

But it can’t be, can it?

Hopeful curiosity lifts your head to look for the owner of the voice, and you have to crane your neck a little just to look up at his face. Dark hair, still messy, but more tamed than it was in his youth - now it looks deliberate. Sharp jaw, elegant nose, and those eyes, warm hazel - almost amber, and strangely feline in shape. He doesn’t look the same but he doesn’t look different either. Just a taller (somehow) more handsome and mature version of his younger self. In a suit no less, only it’s paired with volleyball shoes.

You would probably laugh out loud if your mouth didn’t feel so dry, like you’ve just eaten a fistful of sand as you gape up at him with a mix of shock and wonder. 

“I must be dreaming right now,” you whisper to yourself and the man sniggers, still inspecting the can in his hand.

Oh. That’s still the same.

“Are you talking to-“ he falters as his eyes flick to your face. “-me.” 

His face mirrors your own and you’re not sure how long you stand there, fridge wide open, until someone mumbles an ‘excuse me’ and shakes you from your respective trances. You wait for them to leave before you dare to look at each other again. 

“Tetsu?” It feels a little foreign saying his name again after so long. And yet, the weight of it sits familiar on your tongue, the roll of each syllable feels natural as it passes your lips. 

He says your name and you wonder if it tastes the same to him, if it reminds him of home the way that his does for you. “Is that you?” 

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” You awkwardly raise a hand in greeting. 

“Hi,” he says, sounding as dazed as you feel. “Almost didn’t recognise you. You look… different.”

“So do you. It’s been a while,” you offer lamely. He was never this hard to talk to, but you suppose that time is a thief that is impossible to catch, stealing the ease that you built your relationship on. 

“Yeah. It has.”

“Seven years,” you murmur with a touch of melancholy. 

“Where did the time go?” 

You both fall silent, there in the snack aisle of a convenience store in Tokyo, in the middle of summer, wondering what you should say next. Wondering what is appropriate after so much time has passed. 

Because you’ve both grown. A lot. Physically, mentally, emotionally. You’re hardly the same people you were seven years ago. It’s stupid of you to even entertain the idea that he could fall in love with you again, but you entertain it all the same. 

You’d never admit it aloud, but on some of your loneliest nights, you fantasise about what could happen if you met again. How you’d fall back together so easily, how you’d be so in love, the way that you used to be. Maybe you’d move in together, get a pet together, maybe you’d get married and have a family. Maybe you’d grow old with the only boy you’d ever loved so earnestly, so boundlessly, despite being so young. 

It’s Kuroo that finally breaks the silence. 

“Let’s catch up,” he says, with a crooked grin. “For old times sake.”

You pay for your drinks and head back out into the sun. It’s odd, you think. Tokyo is familiar and Kuroo is familiar, as well as the drink in your hand but it still feels strange to you. You’re in a different part of the city because of your new job and the brand of soda you like has changed their recipe. 

And then there’s Kuroo. 

His gait is, regrettably, longer than it used to be, as is the height at which you stand next to him. He sounds different, dresses different, he even smells different. Back then, he used to smell like far too much body spray and his grandma's honeysuckle detergent. Now? The scent coming off him is expensive and thoroughly masculine - you might even dare to say it’s incredibly sexy.

You cast him a sideways glance, belatedly noticing the can that he sips at. It’s identical to yours and you can’t help but scoff aloud.

“I thought you said that stuff was full of sugar?” Kuroo turns to look at you curiously as you both slow to a stop and point at him accusingly. “Remember? You used to nag me for drinking it.” Your lips push out in a pout at the memory of his lecture, and he laughs. 

The sound transports you back to high school, to a time where you’re still boyfriend and girlfriend, two peas in a pod, no longer clad in office wear but in your school uniforms. Kuroo’s hair is horrendous, tangled hopelessly by the wind that blows through it. You’re holding hands and bickering, but still laughing. Always laughing.

“That’s cos you used to drink it every day,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting in that goddamn smirk. “And it’s addictive.”

“Oh is that right? Well, I did tell you as much back then. How the tables have turned!” you proclaim triumphantly. He rolls his eyes, amused by your smug expression.

“I’m not addicted to it,” he says, quirking his brow challengingly. “I still don’t like it.”

“Oh really? Then why did you get it?” You narrow your eyes at him as he shakes his head, smile softening. 

“It’s a secret,” he says, tapping his nose with a wink before he continues to walk. Your eyes narrow in a glare as you jog after him and attempt to fall back in step with him.

“Oi, slow down! Long legged bastard,” you grumble under your breath.

“What did you just call me?” he asks quietly. You freeze, clapping a hand over your mouth as realisation dawns on you. You can’t joke with him like that anymore. Not after you put millions of miles between you. What boundaries lie there now?

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” He cackles at the look on your face, doubling over right there in the middle of the street. You fix him with a deadpan look, arms folded over your chest, thoroughly unimpressed.

“I’m kidding, relax! God, you should see your face, baby!” 

This time, you both freeze, and the illusion shatters. A soft pink stains his cheeks as his ears and brain catch up to his tongue and heart. 25, and he’s still not immune to blushing. 25, and it still makes him look hopelessly sweet. 25, and it still makes your heart swell. 

“I didn’t- shit, I’m so sorry! It just slipped out,” he yelps, panic widening his eyes. You’re not quite sure what to say to him. The pet name echoes in your ears and thunders in your chest, reawakening butterflies with Kuroo’s name scrawled across the delicate wings. Your own cheeks feel warm.

“Easy mistake to make,” you say, biting back a shy smile. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s call it even.” He clears his throat nervously and sips at his drink to give himself something to do, your own fingers fiddling with the carrier bag in your hand until he finally breaks the stifling silence. 

“I er, I know a pretty good ice cream place about 5 minutes away from here. We can catch up there?” 

“Sounds good.” 

Your walk resumes and you’re both quiet again, but this time, it’s comfortable. The little bell above the door chimes and he follows in behind you to stand at the counter, poring over the selection behind the glass.

Kuroo has brought you to a quaint little spot, tucked away between an electronics shop and a bakery. Inside, it’s cool and vibrant, the pastel palette running through the airy space brightening your mood a little. It doesn’t take either of you long to make your choices, taking your cones and finding a little booth in the back to sit at. 

Perhaps it’s a little odd for two adults in their mid-twenties to be sitting in an ice cream parlour, nibbling at ice cream cones and searching for something to say that sounds half-way cool and nonchalant. But Kuroo did say this was for the sake of old times, and what better way to plunge you into the past than a quiet booth and some ice cream. 

“So…” you start, but you don’t know how to finish. 

“So…” he copies, drawing the word out. You raise an eyebrow at him, licking at your ice cream and he mirrors you, holding the expression before you both snort and burst into laughter. 

“Fucking hell, stop making it weird!” you giggle. 

“I’m not!”

“You’re making that face!”

“Speak for yourself! Look, I just didn’t expect to run into you of all people on my way home. I’m still processing it,” he says with a grin.

“Neither did I!” His eyes soften as he smiles, crinkling at the corners. 

“So how have you been?” 

And just like that, you feel right at home again. You talk and laugh, smile brighter and bigger than you have in years. The cones have long since been polished off and you’re still occupying the booth, any concept of time tossed out the window. It’s not long before your catch-up of the present bleeds into reminiscing on the past. 

“And then Bokuto slipped and fell right into you!”

“I remember that, I would’ve fallen flat on my face if you hadn’t caught me. You never did let that go, I swear, you gloated about it for ages,” you complain, pouting in annoyance.

“You have to admit that line was pretty smooth!” He puffs his chest out a little with pride and you roll your eyes. 

You mock his deep timbre. “‘Are you falling for me?’” 

“It was cool!” 

“It was cheesy!” you both laugh at the memory, letting the feeling of nostalgia linger over you like a warm blanket just a little while longer. 

“We had some good times together,” he hums and you nod, smiling wistfully at the memories you’ve been submerging yourselves in. 

“We did.”

“I miss those days.”

“Me too.”

“No, I mean when we were together. I really loved you,” he says quietly, warm eyes burning with sincerity. 

“I did too.” You heart thuds heavily in your chest at the implications in his gaze but you force yourself to rein it in and squash the hope that flutters there. “But we were so young. Immature. Naive.”

“So?” He almost sounds offended. “Does that mean it didn’t count or something?”

“No, I’m not saying that.” You shake your head and sigh. “I’m just saying, I’m sure you’ve dated other people since then and fallen in love again. Real love, not the silly delusions of a teen.”

“Our love was real.” 

Your breath hitches then at the fire in his eyes, a fire that you recognise, the same as the one that burns quietly in the depths of your heart. You try to shift his attention. 

“Aren’t you dating anyone right now?” you ask hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. 

“No,” he says fiercely, but then he cools a bit and leans back in his seat. “No. I’m not. I’ve tried, but… Nothing ever stuck. How about you?” 

“I tried too,” you murmur. “But I couldn’t love them in the right way, I guess.” 

Not the way I loved you. 

The air between you becomes heavy with words unsaid crowding the tips of your tongues all at once, piling against your teeth and begging to break free. Kuroo calls your name, and your belly flutters in the way that it used to. 

He calls out to you again and it’s so soft, so Kuroo, that your heart aches. You watch him carefully, waiting for him to keep speaking with bated breath. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

“Yeah.” 

He sucks in a shaky breath and adds another secret to the pile housed deep in your heart, still kept firmly under lock and key. 

“I drink them when I miss you.” 

You pause, brow furrowing in confusion. 

“Drink what?” 

Kuroo’s expression turns exasperated as he runs a hand through his neater-than-it-used-to-be hair. The blush from before returns, tinging his ears red with embarrassment. 

“The lychee soda.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“So… today?” 

He nods sheepishly, covering his face with his hand. 

“How was I supposed to know I’d bump into you?” he mumbles again. You say nothing, marvelling at the man before you instead. Still as sweet as the day you met him. Years have passed, and so many things have changed. And yet, somehow, Kuroo remembers you the way that you remember him.

No, not remember, he misses you the way that you miss him, still finding comfort in the warmth of that flame, just like you. Still finding solace in bubbles and sugar.

“Tetsu-” 

“Weird right?” he chuckles humourlessly and you shake your head no. 

“No, it’s not weird. Not really,” you say, fiddling with the napkin in front of you. “You did say you wouldn’t forget me.” 

“True,” he hums. 

“And if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t forget you either.”

“You didn’t?” A warm flush creeps up your own cheeks this time as you nod and give in a little. 

“I missed you, Tetsu. I know it’s been such a long time, and holding onto hope that I’d see you again is probably really fucking stupid, not to mention unhealthy, but-“ 

“I couldn’t help it,” you say simultaneously. 

Slowly, identical giddy grins spread over your faces and you find yourselves giggling like teenagers all over again. 

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Kuroo says suddenly with that lopsided grin that you fell in love with all those years ago.

“On a date?” 

“If you want it to be. Or even just as friends. But seeing you again, it’s just-“ you halt him with a raised hand, a teasing grin playing at your lips as your head cocks to the side. 

“Tell me about it on our date, yeah?” 

And he does. 

The date with Kuroo is truly magical. He’s a picture perfect gentleman, coming to pick you up with a bouquet of fresh, red roses in hand and a happy grin on his face. It seems that both of you have dressed to impress, Kuroo dressed neatly in a crisp white shirt and charcoal trousers whilst you spent hours scouring your wardrobe for the perfect dress. It’s honestly a little ridiculous when you think back on it since you knew each other so well already, so why would you need to impress each other?

But that was then, and this now. 

There seems to be a goal in Kuroo’s mind as he helps you out of his shiny black Jaguar, leading you into a fancy looking restaurant. It’s clear he’s spared no expenses for the occasion. You eat and drink and laugh, allowing yourselves to get pulled back together again, like magnets. The flames in your hearts burn brighter, more fiercely with each passing moment, until you can feel the warmth spread throughout your bodies, lapping gently through your veins. 

As the night draws to a close and he drives you home, full, content and sleepy, you feel more whole than you’ve felt in the entirety of your adult life. You glance to the side, taking in his beautiful profile, that exquisite jawline and the curve of his lips that you want to feel on yours again. 

You wonder if they taste the same as they did back in high school. If they still taste like the gum he used to chew or those ghastly health drinks he was obsessed with. Sometimes, he’d chase you around campus right after eating mackerel for lunch, threatening to kiss you with the strong flavour of fish still lingering in his mouth. Are his lips still a little chapped? Does he still grin into his kisses as his fingers rest on your cheek? Make that sweet little humming noise in the back of his throat that sounds like laughter? Does he still wear a goofy smile when he pulls away?

All thoughts of kissing him are shaken from your mind as he kills the engine and walks you all the way to the front door of your apartment. You unlock the door and turn to say goodbye, a little sad that the night has to end. Kuroo rests his arm against the door frame above his head, car keys dangling from his hand and a lazy smile sitting comfortably on his handsome features. 

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says.

“Me too.” 

“I guess I’ll see you soon?” 

Those words should be followed closely with a goodbye, but Kuroo lingers, as does his gaze, flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again. 

“Kiss me if I’m wrong,” he says after a beat of silence. “But you kissed me on our first ever date, didn’t you?” You hum thoughtfully, an impish grin rounding your cheeks. 

“No, actually I didn't. It was the second date and it was on the cheek cos you looked like you were ready to pass out when I got close to your lips.”

“I did not!” he whines indignantly. 

“Did too,” you shrug. 

“That’s bullshit,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I’m wrong so now you have to kiss me.”

“Real smooth, Tetsuro.”

“I know, now if you’ll let me, I want to overwrite that first kiss.” 

“How? We’ve kissed a million times before,” you argue. 

“That was then, this is now. We’re restarting this whole thing,” he insists.

“We are?” You raise an eyebrow in question and he simply nods, cocksure and firm. 

“We are.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” Kuroo takes a step forward and suddenly there’s very little space between you. “So? Will you let me have a redo?” he murmurs. 

“You can try. The first time was pretty sweet. It’d be pretty hard to top it.” 

“Challenge accepted, baby.”

With that, his hands slip around your waist and pull you flush against his firm body. When his lips slant down over yours, you still have to reach up to meet him, eyes fluttering shut as your lips meet after seven years apart. 

He is all you remember and so much more, so much better than before, as if that were even possible. You learn that he tastes sweet like dessert, but he still tastes like your Tetsu. He grins against your lips as you press closer and you praise whoever the fuck convinced him to regularly use chapstick because his lips are so soft and pliant against yours. His kisses are dizzyingly good, addictive and sensual, his fingers resting against the back of your neck whilst his palm sits along the curve of it. You sigh into his mouth, one of relief, because you’re finally home. 

Where you belong. 

As fate intended. 

When Kuroo pulls away, there’s a sparkle in his eyes and he smiles so sweetly you think that sugar will never taste the same again. He brushes a stray lock of your hair back, letting his thumb linger over the warm apple of your cheek. 

“Can I say something?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I have to warn you, it’s a little unconventional for a rebooted first date,” he chuckles.  

Then, his expression becomes a little more serious. “But I really, really fucking love you and I don’t think I ever stopped.” Your heart swells and spills over as his grip on your waist tightens. 

“I love you too,” you say, and you really can’t resist so you tug him back towards your lips and kiss him again. 

“So.”

Again

“So.”

And again. 

“So much.” 

Fate nods and lets you love him all over again. 

slay writing

thank you diva, glad u like it :>

❝ IN WHICH the vc of the girls vbc gets added by mistake to the boys vbc gc ❞

PLAYLIST

MEET THE CHARACTERS

INTRO ; the dick talk

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . part I . 　　 · 　˚ ✧

UNO ; the gustavo protection squad

DOS ; cheer up mattsun

TRES ; a warning and a worried iwa

CUATRO ; the wrath of watari

CINCO ; dick to spare?

SEIS ; a new bump in the road

SIETE I ; how to become rich

SIETE II ; free spirit

OCHO ; the comeback

NUEVE ; akui

NUEVE EXTRA ; professional editor y/n

DIEZ ; the life of an influencer

ONCE ; hidden emotions

DOCE ; distrust

TRECE ; rest in piss

CATORCE ; unbreakable bond

QUINCE ; careless influence

DIECISÉIS ; who you truly are

DIECISIETE ; stuck on a loop

DIECIOCHO ; seeing the vision

DIECINUEVE ; reasons to be happy

VEINTE ; love comes unexpectedly

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . part II . 　　 · 　˚ ✧

VEINTIUNO ; king yahaba

VEINTIDOS ; why him

VEINTITRES ; the effectiveness of time

VEINTICUATRO ; my favorite place

VEINTICINCO ; see you soon!

VEINTISEIS ; seijoh’s golden trio

VEINTISIETE ; *growls*

VEINTIOCHO ; bffs

VEINTINUEVE ; the calm

TREINTA ; road to summer camp!

TREINTAIUNO ; private school tingz

TREINTAIDOS ; the dynamic duo

TREINTAITRES ; ghostbusters!

TREINTAICUATRO ; stupid y/n

TREINTAICINCO ; kissed by the moonlight

TREINTAISEIS ; so far yet so close

TREINTAISIETE ; tales of a lost heart

TREINTAIOCHO ; a big mistake

TREINTAINUEVE ; the seijoh vibe

CUARENTA ; opposite ways

CUARENTAIUNO ; not the same

CUARENTAIDOS ; it’s all over

CUARENTAITRES ; comfort in the chaos

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . part III . 　　 · 　˚ ✧

coming soon