Latest Posts by wqnsho - Page 2

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. 

texting fwb!suna 'happy father's day' and then ignoring his texts and calls just to make him sweat a bit

coach ukai

ukai keishin is a creature of habit.

he always buys the same brand of cigarettes, and the same colour lighter. he has used the exact same brand of soap since he was a kid. when he makes his coffee in the morning he always adds the same amount of milk, one sugar, stirs it three times clockwise and once in the opposite direction, blows on it twice, and then takes his first sip.

so imagine your surprise the day you walk into sakanoshita market and ukai keishin, creature of habit, your perfectly predictable boyfriend of four and a half years, is nowhere to be found.

because there's no way that the man standing behind the counter, apron on, twirling a cigarette between his fingers, with neatly combed brown hair is him.

it looks a lot like him, to be sure.

the same gentle slope of his nose, the same sharp brown eyes that light up when he spots you stepping through the door, the same little smile that you've seen curl up an identical set of lips countless times.

"what the hell did you do?"

the man who looks like (but is definitely not) ukai keishin's smile falters.

"hello to you too, sweetheart," he half-says, half-laughs. "what a terrible way to greet someone."

alright, this might be keishin.

"your hair," you finally take a step into the store, towards the counter, eyes still fixed on the head of hair that looks a lot like your boyfriend's but definitely isn't, because it isn't the same shade of peroxide yellow that Keishin had been dying it since the two of you were in high school.

the hand not fiddling with the cigarette reaches up to touch the brunette locks atop his head, though he's careful not to tousle them too much.

"you don't like it?" he asks, an uncharacteristic lilt of insecurity in his voice.

you pause.

"I... I just... give me a second," you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. you draw a few deep breaths in, eyes closed, before looking at him again.

"so?" he says, an eyebrow (that for the first time in over ten years matches the shade of hair on his head) cocked. "what's the verdict?"

you step up to the counter, reaching out across it to run your fingers through the strands. they're softer than they'd ever been, and a little shorter too -- having clearly been freshly trimmed.

"you look..." you grapple for the right words. "really hot."

and you know without a shadow of a doubt that the man on the other side of the counter couldn't be anyone other than ukai keishin when you see the smile -- wide and toothy -- that stretches across his handsome face.

"you think so?" he asks, dropping his unlit cigarette in the ashtray in front of him, circling the counter to wrap you in his arms. there's no one around, so you let him -- though you're not sure an audience would have stopped you, anyway.

you can only nod as he holds you tight against him, smiling down at you with that same grin.

"why the sudden change?" you ask him, hands pressed against the front of his apron as your eyes search his face.

"well..." keishin looks away, his cheeks puffing out a little as he mulls over his response. "we're getting older you know -- can't have you walking around looking like you're dating a delinquent forever."

"but you were a cute delinquent," you laugh, pressing a kiss to the corner of his pursed lips.

"and I had something important to do today, too. wanted to clean myself up a bit for it," Keishin adds, his eyes scanning your face. the playful look from a moment prior has melted away, and as you stare up at him, you're reminded just how very handsome of a man that boy from your high school volleyball team has grown up to be.

your brows knit together in confusion. "oh yeah?" you ask, pulling away slightly. "and what was that?"

"I went to see your parents," keishin said, eyes fixed unwaveringly to yours, "to see if maybe instead of you dating a delinquent they'd be alright with you marrying one who was reformed."

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

the prince.

₊˚ ᗢ suna rintarou x figure skater! fem! reader.

⤷ suna has been leaving practice early and the team starts to wonder why.

“ah, i should start heading out for today.”

suna slings his bag over his shoulders, tugging on the straps as his other hand grips his phone. he’s seen typing a quick message to someone and hitting send the moment his blond-aired teammate walks over to him. from the corner of kita’s eyes, he notices suna’s lips curl into a small, fond smile. it seemed almost uncharacteristic for the boy. so much so that the miya twins are quick to be at his side, leaning over his shoulder with gleaming interest for his friend.

as of recently, suna has been leaving practice a lot earlier than usual. the first time it happened, he hurriedly ran to the locker rooms to change, rushing out of the doors with his shirt still halfway across his torso. the second time, he left when kita turned around to give an earful to atsumu about not taking care of his health. this was the time aran finally noticed something was different about suna, and he reacted with a simple sigh and wave.  the third time, he was caught by their coach and forced to give a half-assed apology before running off again, still not learning his lesson. no matter how often the boys see it, they’re always surprised by how fast he can run, especially when he’s putting his mind to something.

this time will be different though. before he could turn around to make a jog toward the door, atsumu stopped him by putting his hand on his shoulder. a glimmer of mischief shining through his hazel-colored eyes. “where do you think you’re going this time? don’t think we haven’t noticed you cutting practices early! you got a lot of nerve buddy.” 

osamu wipes the sweat off his brow, coming up to suna, “it’s unlike you to leave early. do you have somewhere to go? afterschool program?”

“maybe he’s going out to see a girl!” 

the boy in question looks off to the side, eyes flickering back and forth from his phone to the court. the team had paused their game just to hear what he had to say. he awkwardly clears his throat as he turns away, a faint red tint forming on the tips of his ears, “yeah. i wanted to watch my friend’s performance tonight.” 

the miya twins grovel, somehow losing a mysterious bet they’ve made in their heads. kita slowly approaches suna, patting him on the shoulder. it’s a surprise, they all thought. to think that this stoic, snarky, sarcastic man had friends who could tolerate his bratty attitude was nothing short of amazing. in all their time of being together, in the same classes and lunch table, atsumu and osamu did not see it coming. perhaps if they were observant as kita, they might have noticed the way suna would smile at his phone, seemingly texting someone on the other line. 

the blond-setter points at him accusingly, “you got friends outside of me and samu? you cheater!” 

“this is quite the news…”

“i wonder what he’s watching…”

the man in question was an incredibly sly, albeit lazy boy. the longer he stays in the game, the more he begins to slack off. it was obvious the way his shoulders began to roll back and he took a more relaxed position in front of the net. it’s only when kita is brought into the game that he straightens up his back. aran points out that suna didn’t attempt to hide anything and would have more than likely answered their questions had they asked. the middle blocker never attempted to hide his conversion. it’s so painfully obvious how criminally online he is. 

“man, now i’m curious!” atsumu comments, slapping him on the back a few times, “you wouldn’t mind if we join your friend’s little performance?”

“tsumu, you can’t just invite yourself.”

“huh? i just wanna meet them thats all! what if they’re also a volleyball player!”

“he would have said game instead of performance, you egghead.” 

“who the hell are you calling an egghead?” 

suna remains quiet before pocketing his phone. tugging on his bag, he resumes his walk to the door. “it’s fine. i don’t think my friend would mind.” he certainly would. but he pushes this thought down his throat. if anything, it might help to bring more people for support. he looks back at atsumu and osamu, narrowing his eyes with annoyance laced in his gaze, “just don’t cause trouble for me.”

the rest of the team quickly packed up their belongings, with kita waving them off with a simple goodbye. he says he should stay to clean up the gym while they meet suna’s friend. it was only a few days before their next game, and he thinks they deserve some level of rest. it would also be nice of them to send photos. he’s also quite curious to know who is this mysterious friend.

“i’m surprised you got such a close friend! it doesn’t seem like you talk to them in person.” omimi scratches the back of his neck, fiddling slightly with the ends of his hair. “do they go to a different school?”

“they don’t come to class,” suna replied, tucking his hands into his pocket as they continued down the road.

“so they just skip? how unfair is that!” atsumu huffs, tucking his arms over his chest. if he had the option, he’d ditch the drab books and play volleyball every day. osamu gently punches him on the shoulder, snickering about how it’d make no difference in his grades if he skipped class. the two begin to bicker as aran jogs a little faster to meet with suna. 

the dark-haired boy lets out a hum, shifting his head from side to side.

“a prince, i guess.” 

ice crackles underneath the thin blade, a snappy yet crisp sound echoing in the open air. a figure waves elegantly through the frigid platform. the shimmer from their ruffled clothes waves back and forth in the air, tempting the audience to lean forward as they raise their arms, performing a triple axel with a slight wobble in their toe. they ignore this flaw, choosing to continue with their program as if nothing happened. sliding left and right, they glide easily across the ice as their hands trail from the vein on the side of their neck, tracing it down to their ribcage.

the prince was not an unfamiliar name. rumors quickly spread at the beginning of the year that a new transfer student would be attending. whispers came from all directions. most of them coming from the ice skating club. they were described to be a professional figure-skater. a whole league of their own compared to the boys’ volleyball team. having won several out-of-country competitions, they came back to japan a kissed hero. it was a shame that on the first day, they were excused from classes for the rest of the semester. 

despite not attending class, it was evidence there was a star lingering amongst them.

however, the volleyball team was met with a lot more than just one surprise tonight. they learned very quickly the moment they entered the skating rink, the prince was not a prince, but a lady. she slid across the field with enough grace to match a swan. yet the crunch of shaved ice and precise jumps remind them of the careful footwork of a mountain goat. every move performed was planned. every sweat poured onto the ice was a sign of their meticulous work. in other words, they were flawless tonight.

“man, i wonder how easy it’d be to do those jumps,” atsumu says, looking out to the crowd and back to suna. the middle blocker doesn’t break from the scene in front of him. the team notices the way the skater’s arms move smoothly alongside their skates, almost as if they were one flowing piece in the wind. their facial expression was concentrated, with only a thin trickle of sweat dripping down their chin.

everyone was standing behind the glass, eyes were blown wide as they were met with a sparkling scene. the slow build-up of the song brought everything together. they couldn’t hold back their gasp as they watched the skater perform a double axel followed by a triple salchow, with another jump far across the rink. a jump they could only imagine doing in their dreams. they were starting the second half of their program,  yet they’ve performed this many jumps already. it was getting impossible to hide the smile on suna’s face.

“i doubt it.”

figure skating is one of the most rigorous sports anyone could play. not only do you need the mastery of ballet, but training and practice could last months before you are even ready to perform competitively. nothing slips past the judges. not a single step should be wasted unless called for. everything should be perfectly calculated by their choreographer weeks in advance. from the movements of their fingers to the tilt of their neck, only those who were dedicated to this sport can see the small details. while a volleyball player can get away with slipping on the ground, it is a fatal mistake in figure skating.

not to mention, injuries were common in every performance. you might be friends with someone one hour, before they collapse on the ground, being wheeled to the hospital after straining their muscles. it was intense. 

you finished your performance, breathing heavily as you waved your arms above your head. although the ice was cold, your body was warming up from the inside out. it was burning with passion. and you lived for these cheers. you could feel it all in the tips of your fingers. this was going to be the start of something great this year. finally able to rest, you turned your head, noticing a very familiar face in the crowd, leading to you excitedly skating towards them.

“rin!” you jumped into his open arms, letting him twirl you around as his teammates stared in disbelief. the cold expression you had on the ice had completely melted away the moment you saw your best friend. “you made it! i got worried you might not be able to see the beginning of my program.” 

(l/n) (y/n): professional figure skater, representing japan in the grand prix. her most notable achievement was winning gold in the junior grand prix two years ago, with her main focus being to conquer the senior division by her third year in high school. she transferred to inarizaki in hopes of finishing her education and taking lessons from another coach, but her training program had been more demanding, making it difficult for her to attend classes.

so how did you meet suna? it was very simple. he and you met in kindergarten, having been paired up together because of the latter’s extremely bratty behavior. you were the definition of a picture-perfect child. however, hanging out with him during recess completely changed that perception of you. you would always spend time together, whispering to each other in class. even when it was mandatory nap time, he would always find a way to lay his thin mat next to you, poking the center of your palm to keep you awake. 

such antics led to you being a little more rebellious and open-mouthed with your opinions. he gave you the confidence to speak to your parents about your dreams. while he wanted to continue playing volleybal, you wanted to be a figure skater. just like your grandmother when she was a young girl. unfortunately, she got an injury during the semifinals that permanently withdrew her from sports entirely. it was a tragic event that affected your family for years. they wanted you to do anything but figure skating. 

your mother, although hesitant at first, could not deny you this wish. not when young suna held onto your hand tightly as you began to sob in front of her, claiming with all your heart that you would, without a doubt, come home with gold between your teeth. 

from there, when you were both in middle school, he would always be by your side. he went out of his way to save up his allowance from his mother to attend your competitions. to him, these small things were nothing in comparison to seeing your smile. when you looked back at him after performing your first free skate program, despite missing several of your jumps and hitting the ground with your cheek, you waved and smiled. even when you formed bruises behind the back of your knee, or sprained your ankle, he was always there to wrap gauze around it, laying on your stomach to keep you from leaving your bed. even when you moved away to a new city, crying into your pillow about how hard it is to make new friends in the ballet studio, he was there to comfort you. even when you didn’t make it to first place like you promised him, he was always whispering to you about how great you were to him. 

although the distance was far, your heart was close to him. 

so the volleyball team was left in awe, looking at the sight of a very soft, domesticated suna holding onto his childhood friend. he holds you tightly as he presses his forehead against yours, not minding the thin layer of sweat and warm air. squeezing your waist, he wonders about the perfect time to say how he feels. 

but perhaps it could wait once the two of you make it to the peaks of your career.

THE UNNOTICEABLE ; HAJIME IWAIZUMI

🏐 : ̗̀➛ hajime iwaizumi doesn't expect much when it comes to girls, but he thinks he might've finally found one thats out of his best friends reach.

CONTENTS // fluff / light angst / jealous iwa / i switch between iwa, hajime, and iwaizumi a lot so i hope that doesn't bother anybody / some cursing?? idk this is mostly fluff // 1.3k

PAIRINGS // hajime iwaizumi x fem!reader

A/N // I watched the haikyuu movie yesterday and it was so good icl... I wanna write for kuroo now he's so sexy. i tried out a different header theme for this one and I honestly like it more than the other one idrk. anyways enjoy this little drabble 🩷.

// MASTERLIST .

HAJIME IWAIZUMI has always been the less noticeable friend.

It's not like he doesn't get attention. He gets plenty of that. But when it comes to girls, or anything in the dating category at all, most of them flock to Tooru.

He doesn't resent his best friend for his popularity, Hajime just wishes girls didn't come up to him to get closer to his friend.

Him and Tooru are grabbing fast food after practice and a girl approaches him as he sits at the table he chose for him and his teammate. Tooru is in line, probably flirting with the girl across the counter as he orders for him and his best friend.

Iwaizumi feels a little pathetic for hoping that she's going to ask about him. That maybe, just maybe, he might be getting a chance for once. He gets his hopes up, only to be completely shut down when she asks for Tooru's number. He thinks she might notice the light in his face dim, but she doesn't acknowledge it.

"You'll have to ask him. Not sure if he wants me giving out his number to randoms." He says as he turns his attention away from her, a lousy attempt to hide his annoyance.

She nods understandingly, "W-well, thanks anyway." She stammers a bit, her voice small and nervous.

He stops assuming so much when girls approach him after that, always prepared to slide his friends socials and move on with his day.

So, when you approach him, obviously a bit hesitant as you clutch your sides and stare at him nervously, he doesn't even let you speak before he starts spouting his friends socials.

"Huh?" You ask a bit cluelessly, and Iwaizumi looks over at you.

"You're here to ask about Oikawa, right?" He says, staring down at you. He's obviously confused, a thick brow raised as he eyes you.

"N-no..? I wanted to talk to you." You reluctantly say, and he tenses up. You don't even spare a glance at Oikawa, who's entertaining a few girls a few meters away.

"Me..?" He asks, surprised.

"You." You respond, dead serious.

The puny sparks of your attempt at conversation light a wildfire in Hajime's weak heart. The small talk you try to make forms into real, genuine talking.

Although, even when you ask for his number, he can't help but think you might be trying to get close to him just to get with Tooru as he types in his number.

He doesn't tell you that he thinks you're playing him. And even if you were, you would've already had him beat because it's barely been two weeks of talking and he's already wrapped around your finger.

Hajimes lack of need for attention wasn't something you acknowledged at first. You thought it was natural because not only was this his first time talking to a girl, but it's your first time being the one approaching. You don't know what guys like unless they tell you, so you just do what you think is right.

And then you came to the subtle realization that maybe he's not desperate because he doesn't expect much from you. Is he toying with you? Was the first question you asked yourself.

On the other hand, Hajime doesn't expect much because he thinks he knows how this goes (he doesn't).

Hajime respects Tooru. And usually, he wouldn't add a but to that, but... he is willing to go to any lengths possible to keep you as far away from him as he physically can.

He knows how his friend gets with crushes. He'll either do everything in his power to completely embarrass Hajime, or he'll flirt with the girl and make her realize that maybe she doesn't like him as much as she thought.

That's his version of a loyalty test. Take the girl he likes around his best friend and observe her reactions to everything he does. So, that's exactly what he does with you.

Hajime had no idea that you've already met Tooru many times before. You light up when you see him, and Iwa can already feel his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. And then, to put the cherry on top, you go in for a hug. You're even on first name basis, no honorifics or anything. He might aswell lay in his coffin early, because watching you hug Oikawa is the closest to dying he's ever been.

You look over at Iwaizumi to see him glaring daggers at the two of you, a green eyed monster taking over his body as he scowls. Your smile drops, and you wonder what he looks so mad for.

"Are you alright, Iwa?" You ask obliviously, tilting your head and taking a step towards him. His eyes land on you, and they soften ever so slightly.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me." He responds, blinking softly.

And for the rest of the day, all you do is worry about him. The pain on his face and the damp look in his eyes whenever he looks at you interacting with Tooru.

When the two of you go back to his place that afternoon, he asks to talk.

Iwa starts, "Is there something wrong with me?" He asks. You're taken aback, but you can tell he's serious by the look in his eyes. He looks hurt.

"Why would there be something wrong with you?" You ask, reaching over to grab the hand at his side.

"I just-" His voice cracks, and you want to fall to your knees right then and there. Hajime is about to cry and you don't know what to do.

The lump in his throat grows bigger the longer he stares at you. "Why didn't you tell me you already knew Oikawa?" He asks, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill like water from a faucet. He didn't exactly mean to ask that, but he thinks it's much better than 'I thought that maybe for once someone might like me, but as always they go to Tooru.'

"What do you mean? I thought you knew?" You ask, oblivious to the thoughts running rampant through his mind. Your grip on his hand tightens when a tear breaks past the defenses he's put up. You want to ask what you did wrong. You want to ask why he's crying. But the lump in your throat from watching his sadness grow and grow is unbearable, keeping you from asking for some much needed clarification.

"Knew what?" He asks, unable to think of anything rational or any kind of explanation for this other than you're interested in Oikawa.

"Me and Tooru grew up together- He's my cousin." You say, eyeing him confusedly and sadly.

Iwaizumi pauses. A wave of embarrassment washes over him. He was getting jealous over your cousin this entire time?

The night you met Hajime, Tooru invited you, his cousin, to get drinks. He must've forgotten to clear this information with Hajime because now he's standing in front of you, his deep eyes wide and filled with tears of anger.

"What? Did I do something? Are you okay?" You begin asking questions profusely, and Hajime just stares at you.

And then he begins laughing.

You're confused at his sudden change in emotion, the humorous chuckles leaving his mouth catching you completely off guard. "Hajime, what's going on?" You ask as he brings you into a relieved hug.

"For a second there I really thought you and Oikawa had something going on." He responds as he places his head on top of yours comfortably.

You audibly gag. "Are you serious?! This entire time I thought you knew I was his cousin!" You say into his chest. He tightens the hug, a deep laugh leaving his lips.

"Man, this is so fuckin' embarrassing." He laughs, and you can't help but join in.

"Like I'd ever choose his annoying ass over you anyways."

And suddenly, the unnoticeable Hajime Iwaizumi feels seen for the first time in forever.

© AAJXS

POKER FACE

pairing - timeskip. sakusa kiyoomi x volleyball ref gn. reader

includes - college au, sakusa slowly losing his mind, lying (nothing bad i swear) if you squint, getting to know sakusa, new friendship things

a/n - i know this sounds weird and specific but i was reading a fic and an idea came to mind. hopefully it doesn't flop

Sakusa Kiyoomi is never late.

It's the first thing you've noticed about him since the start of the semester. The second thing is that he always looks put together.

So now as you sit on your assigned-unassigned spot in the lecture hall, the seat next to you empty and two minutes into the lecture, you wonder if something is wrong.

However, to everyone's surprise, a figure bursts through the door, immediately apologizing to the professor before beelining for his seat.

Heavy pants leave Sakusa's lips, almost as if he ran here, his curly hair slighty damp with sweat.

He plops on the chair unceremoniously and you have to hold in a laugh.

'Wow, what happened? You ran a marathon or something?'

'Practice.'

'Practice?'

You repeat the word with interest, one eyebrow rising and urging him to elaborate.

'Volleyball practice.'

'Oh?'

The professor's loud voice redirects both of your attention towards her, but you tuck away this sliver of information for later.

-

Sakusa was always rather intriguing to you. His blutness, his confidence, his disinterest for others. Even though he sounds repulsive, with you it was always the opposite.

Despite the forming friendship, if you can call it that, outside of class the two of you didn't really talk much. But you can't help yourself when you see him leaving the campus' gym one saturday morning.

Gradually speeding up you reach him in a matter of seconds, noticing the surprise on his stupidly handsome face.

'Hi!'

'What are you doing here? I've never seen you up before eleven.'

'I have work.'

Sakusa doesn't ask what you do so you don't clarify. Instead, you start a conversation while he walks back towards his dorm, presumably for a nap, and you towards the parking lot.

Just before you part ways, it's like a switch goes off in your head and you spin towards Sakusa so fast he nearly stumbles back.

'Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. Do you have any upcoming games this month?'

One of his perfect eyebrows arches up suspiciously but your smile is unwavering.

'We're playing against another university next week. Why?'

'No reason ~'

Before he even has a chance to question you further, you speedwalk towards your car, effectively hiding your triumphant giggle.

-

By the time the game finally rolls around, Sakusa has forgotten all about that weird interaction.

He's in the familiar locker room, pulling on the MSBY jersey over his head. Atsumu and Hinata are talking about something not too far away, and Bokuto walks into the room, bright and cheery despite being very late.

They step onto the court, following Meian's instructions immediately and starting their warm-up. When he's on the court, that's the only thing Sakusa cares about. Unlike Atsumu for example, he doesn't care for the crowd, doesn't care for anyone at the moment who isn't on his team.

The sound of a whistle blowing indicates that the captain's should make their approach, and for whatever reason, Sakusa looks in that direction.

His jaw almost cracked from how far it dropped when his eyes landed on you. You were standing in front of the two men, in official FIVB uniform, whistle hanging around your neck, looking professional and serious.

Sakusa blinks. Once. Twice. Three times.

You're still there. You haven't noticed him yet, or maybe you did but you don't care, and he's at a complete loss. Only once the captains start making their way back to their respective sides do you finally look at him, eyes twinkling with mischief and a hint of a smile on your lips.

-

The Black Jackals win, unsurprisingly. However, Sakusa isn't sure how he managed to score as many points as he did, since he was being watched like a hawk the entire time.

Of course it's your job, but still.

He has to wait outside the gym before you and your colleagues finally exit the building before he has a chance to talk to you.

When you step outside you immediately notice his figure lingering and you laugh on the inside, biding your colleagues goodbye before making your way over to him.

'Congratulations on the win.'

Your tone is too smug and it turns Sakusa's glare into a scowl.

'What the fuck?'

This is the first time you hear him curse and it takes all of your willpower not to snort.

'What? You did win, no?'

'That's not what I meant and you know it.'

'It's not?'

If you keep up this innocent and clueless charade, Kiyoomi might just lose his mind.

'When were you gonna tell me you were a fucking volleyball ref?'

Fueling his fire, you shrug nonchalantly.

'You never asked.'

Sakusa opens his mouth to retort, but after a second gives up, knowing that he would've made the same exact remark in your position.

He hates you.

'Is this why you asked me about the game last weekend? Isn't that a conflict of interest?'

'None of my superiors know we're classmates. And if they did they wouldn't know we're friends. So technically, no.'

That satisfied smile on yourself makes him want to kiss it off- no. Slap it off. Anything other than kiss. What the fuck?

He shakes his head to try and get rid off...whatever this is, before he huffs.

'Fine. Have it your way. I'll see you in class then.'

Something about confused Sakusa will always be amusing to you. Just as you're about to leave the premises, you catch a glimpse of orange and yellow in your peripheral vision, silently praying for Sakusa's well-being.

part 2?

akaashi keiji: childhood friends is a language on its own

gn!reader, reader is sad, title summarizes everything, wc 356

when kuroo entered the gym, he certainly didn’t expect another figure next to akaashi that isn’t bokuto, much less have said figure’s head on akaashi’s shoulder. you have your face buried on your palms, with akaashi nodding sagely.

“ugh,” you whine. “uuggghhhh!”

“yes, y/n-san. i know.”

“keiji, it was so uughh.”

“is that so?”

you start grumbling more noises. kuroo thinks you’re actually speaking, but all that comes out is a series of ouuurgggh. bokuto hums thoughtfully in response from kuroo’s side; if he’s trying to understand why you’re grumbling or what you’re trying to say, kuroo doesn’t want to know.

akaashi frowns, decoding your words. “that’s not nice.”

“ouuuuuuuaargh.” kuroo feels crazy.

“please calm down,” akaashi says softly.

kuroo blinks, finally gaining sense. “the fuck is up with those two?”

bokuto grins proudly. “they’re childhood friends!” he says as if that explains everything. no, it makes it worse, actually. kuroo didn’t even know akaashi had a childhood friend.

kuroo blinks again, with more feeling. “so are kenma and i but we didn’t gain telepathy.”

yamaguchi and tsukishima come in a few seconds later, watching the scene before them for a beat. then yamaguchi turns to the blond, eyes wide.

“tsukki, do you think we could do that?”

tsukishima actually gives it some thought. “no. that’s the same as attempting the freak quick.” yamaguchi seems to understand.

you look up from your palm, peeking at the boys. your eyes are puffy and you pull the jacket -- kuroo only now realized it belonged to akaashi -- closer to yourself. akaashi curls a protective arm around you.

“keiji,” is all you mumble, your voice soft as a whisper.

kuroo watches as akaashi, with uncharacteristic fierceness, glare at them. bokuto yelps, standing up straight -- kuroo probably made the same noise, recoiling at the assault akaashi’s eyes attacked them with. he shushes them all with a finger.

akaashi sighs, facing you. “we’ll get a snack, i promise. don’t make that face, please.” you don’t say anything else, only knocking your forehead against his shoulder and mumbling something incoherent no one but akaashi understands, but kuroo thinks that akaashi’s soft smile means it’s okay.

❛ what’s new, scooby doo?  ❜

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ aoba johsai is having its annual halloween festival, and oikawa has the great idea to go as mystery incorporated this year. none of you guys expected to have a run in with a “real” ghost yourselves, however.

➼ pairing! aoba johsai vbc x manager!reader, iwaizumi bias this time lol

➼ warnings! cursing

➼ type! fluff, humor, a little spooky

➼ author’s note! last one of my halloween fics, others linked at the end! please keep in mind that this is the first time i’m posting on here and first time i’m writing for hq, so i apologize beforehand if there are any mistakes or the characters seem ooc. anyways, happy halloween! have fun and stay safe. enjoy this little treat! <3

Keep reading

❛ in the middle of the night when the wolves come out, they head straight for your heart like a bullet in the dark. one by one, i gotta take them down. ❜

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  mattsun is prepared to fight off anyone who attempts to steal your heart

➼ song! wolves - one direction

➼ pairing! matsukawa issei x fem!reader

➼ word count! 2.3k

➼ warnings! a lot of talk about murdering oikawa, inaccurate representation of how valentine’s day is celebrated in japan, not properly edited

➼ type! fluff, humor??

➼ author’s note! happy valentine’s day! (i am in fact, not late. it’s still the 14th in california). here’s a slightly inspired valentines matsukawa one shot. part of my haikyuu x one direction series!

Keep reading

clueless, kuroo tetsuro

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!

➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader

➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers

➼ word count! about 1.4k

➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡

"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.

Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!

"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.

"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.

Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."

"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"

"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"

"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."

"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."

"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."

Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.

"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."

There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?

"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."

All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.

Right?

A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.

"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"

Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"

"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"

Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."

"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.

"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.

"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"

"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"

"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"

"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.

"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.

Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."

DIFFERENT

lingyang (wuthering waves) x gn! reader

SPOILERS FOR HIS STORY QUEST!

lowercase intended, full of fluff!

lingyang's story quest spoilers, (incase you haven't played it yet)

no dialogue (tried to do something new) hope you enjoy!

ever since stepping foot in jinzhou, lingyang knew who, or rather what he was. he knew he was different from his clients, young or old, he knew he was different from shuncai, who sells his food at his little shop, he knew he was different from his fellow liondance troupe to his master.

he knew it all.

he knew but can he accept it?

can he accept the fact that he is different from everyone he knows? "yes!" lingyang would reply in a heartbeat. his mind fast as light to give an answer while his heart hesitates to even think about it. no matter how many "yes" he would answer to questions like those, his soul would always tell a different story.

while there was nothing wrong with being different, it hurts just as much because he was alone. he had no one to talk to, to relate to his problems of self identity and where he belongs. that was until a person called rover came to his life.

rover...

that's what everyone calls them. while lingyang has his name, rover doesn't recall theirs and this sparked something inside of him. for a moment he did not feel alone, he did not feel different. which is why it was easy for him to open up his past, telling it to the rover without directly mentioning that he was the "jingle monster", that he was a beast, that he was the last suan'ni.

despite everything, the rover was a busy individual. they could'nt possibly be there 24/7 for lingyang since their always helping and fighting people left and right while finding their true self in a world where everyone wants them. that thought alone made lingyang frown. was he even valid for feeling that way knowing someone else has it harder? or was he just a selfish individual?

lingyang sighed the tenth time that night. sitting on top of the many boxes behind the stage with hands crossed over his chest, a troubled look swirled around his face. the crease on his forehead keeps getting bigger and bigger as time passed, so big that he didn't even notice the additional weight on the box he was sitting on.

before, a little nudge used to be enough to get his attention but now it seems like a scream on his ear wouldn't even pull him out of his thoughts. but that was alright, for lingyang, they're willing to wait. even if it meant falling asleep on his shoulder.

minutes passed and still, no lingyang on earth.

another, and another, and another... and another.

that was until he felt his own body moving. his arm tucked underneath his other arm moved without a second thought, catching the person who had fallen off his shoulder. call it his "animal instinct" if you will.

lingyang immediately looked over, curiosity and worry replacing his look of trouble. slowly but surely his worried expression begins to flow out as he releases a somewhat happy and contented smile as if he wasn't in a negative headspace earlier.

he looks at his surroundings before looking at the moon which was directly above them.

a look of surprise immediately took over his face, guilt hurriedly seeping into his veins. just how long did he spend sitting there? was it too long that—

huh...

lingyang looked over again at the person sleeping on his arm and minimal movements, he moved the person in his lap, providing them a comfier place to rest on. he couldn't help but smile and in the lowest voice he could muster he whispered...

[name].

[name], a fellow resonator, one of the outriders in jinzhou, sometimes his "lower half" during performances.

[name], who found him sneaking at the outskirts of jinzhou, who welcomed, showed and toured him around the city on his first day.

[name], who helped him ever since he was new. who was there sleeping on his lap, who stayed with him during his times of trouble. with a look of adoration, lingyang combs his hand through their hair hoping that he could provide comfort as they sleep.

lingyang smiled, as flashbacks of both of them immediately played in his mind. from when he first met them, until now. with one final look at their sleeping face, lingyang looked at the moon above.

thanks to the rover, he finally got the affirmation that he doesn't have to be human or a suan'ni.

but thanks to [name], he was happy that he was different.

because if being different meant being close to one another, lingyang will always love being different.

currently on wuwa grind! feel free to add me^^ mostly active on ASIA server but I do have a SEA one.

anyways, lingyang is so cute! but his dialogue either makes me cringe or laugh 😭

lingyang; sorry you have to see that side of me, rover

The endless saga of drawing him shirtless under the guise of practicing anatomy continues✍️

If you saw me posting these earlier just now no you didn't

Doodle 🐳

Couldn't draw the other eye 😎

two sworn enemies pt. 2 — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: maybe being fancied by draco malfoy isn’t so bad, after all.

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

click here to read pt. 1!

“Why is it so bloody cold?”

[Y/N] is decked out in full winter apparel; a knitted Gryffindor sweater, ear-muffs, and a scarf that she has half of her face buried in.

Sitting in the Quidditch stands with the rest of her friends, she grumbles, “It’s not even a Gryffindor match. We don’t really have to be here freezing to death.”

“Well, it’s common courtesy,” says Hermione, but she’s just as cold as [Y/N] is; there’s bits of snow stuck in her hair and the tip of her nose is pink.

Ron snorts loudly. “We’re here to watch Slytherin lose,“ he says matter-of-factly, still in the process of smearing streaks of blue paint across his cheek.

[Y/N] watches him, nose scrunched. "Well, aren’t you the Ravenclaw fanatic.”

He gives her a grin and holds out the small tub of paint. “Want some?”

She bunches up her lips in thought, then reaches out to take it. Annoyingly enough, Ron pulls back at the last moment, grinning wider than ever, and says, “Or d'you want to show support for your boyfriend Malfoy? Hermione, why don’t you turn this green—”

[Y/N] dives over Hermione and Harry to smack Ron round the head, only for the pair to hold her back and push her into her seat.

Exasperated, Hermione huffs, “Honestly, Ronald, will you stop bringing that up?” She glares at him. “You know fully well [Y/N] doesn’t like it.”

Ron (and Harry, although he isn’t as boisterous about it as the redhead), thinks that the “blond ferret” taking a fancying to her is one of, if not the most hilarious thing to have ever happened in history. Annoyingly enough, Ron has made it a habit to tease her about it every chance he gets—this one being one of them.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Ron fancied Malfoy with how much he talks about him,” grins Harry. This earns him a smatter of blue paint across his face; Ron had flicked it at him.

With one last eye-roll, [Y/N] tears her gaze away from Ron and digs her nose further into her scarf. It really is very cold; snow is falling from the sky, seeping into her clothes, some landing on her hair and on her face. Thankfully there’s not so much of it that the players on the pitch wouldn’t be able to see around them, but still—[Y/N] imagines that it’d be a lot colder for them, having to fly around the stadium with the cold wind whipping at their robes.

There’s a buzz of loud chatter hanging in the air as conversations from all around them overlap over one another. The entire stadium is slowly filling up; students trickle into the stands, a majority of which have adorned themselves with blue accessories as a show of support to Ravenclaw. One side of the stands, however, is entirely green. Through the snow, she can see a big serpent-shaped balloon hovering over the Slytherin side.

“They’re coming out!” someone exclaims.

Sure enough, when [Y/N] looks down at the pitch, players from both teams have appeared and congregated at opposite ends of the pitch. Slytherin and Ravenclaw; whichever house wins will play Gryffindor for the house cup. Most bets are on Slytherin, but [Y/N] would have to be dead before she is caught anywhere supporting them.

“Look, it’s [Y/N]’s boyfriend,” gushes Ron.

More out of habit than anything, [Y/N] shoots the redhead yet another brief, scathing look. Draco Malfoy is there, even though he’s nowhere near being her boyfriend, pale face set into a stoic expression of calm as he stands with the rest of his team, one hand on his broom and the other on his hip—and this specific image has her thinking back to what happened two weeks ago on this very same pitch, except the stadium was empty and it was only the two of them on the grounds; when he’d confessed to liking her.

As if Malfoy has somehow heard her thoughts over the noise of excited chatter coming from all over the stands, he looks up, eyes sweeping the seats in search for someone before finally, they land on her.

When he meets her gaze, [Y/N]’s breath isn’t knocked out of her chest, nor does she start blushing madly. But she doesn’t burn red with annoyance, either. All she does is stare at him, eyes narrowed, watching as his lips split into a wide grin and he raises his hand to wave at her.

She rolls her eyes, but thankfully—thankfully, the scarf tucked around her neck, reaching up to her nose, conceals the smile that tugs at her lips.

“May I ask everyone to please find themselves in their seats before the match begins,” McGonagall’s voice echoes around the stadium, giving [Y/N] a reason to break eye contact.

She tears her stare away from Malfoy’s, inhaling a deep breath through her nose, feeling oddly exhilarated.

But this isn’t anything new. That slight feeling of breathlessness, that unfamiliar sensation tickling at her stomach whenever she spots a certain someone in the hallway; she’s been feeling it a lot lately, and though the cause seems to be pretty obvious, that is another thing she’d have to be caught dead before doing: admitting that she reciprocates some of Malfoy’s.. peculiar feelings.

“And they’re off!” Dean Thomas announces. [Y/N] watches as the players soar high into the air until they’re mostly level with the stands, a blur of blue and green robes rapidly zooming around the pitch. Slytherin is already in possession of the quaffle; not a surprise, considering Ravenclaw isn’t exactly known for their exceptionally talented Quidditch team.

Malfoy, meanwhile—[Y/N] tells herself that the way her eyes dart around the pitch in search of a certain platinum blond is because she wants to watch the game properly and not for other reasons.

She spots him hovering somewhere above the rest of the players, face screwed up in concentration as his gaze moves around the pitch in search for the golden snitch. He looks even paler in winter, set against a backdrop of a cloudy sky and snow—

[Y/N] jars herself out of her thoughts and blinks, side-eyeing her friends (specifically Ron) to make sure they hadn’t seen her.. observing the Slytherin seeker. (Not like it matters; it’s not as though she fancies him, but Ron would certainly take it the wrong way.)

“Go Ravenclaw!” Ron practically screeches, waving his Ravenclaw banner in the air—when did he get that? “Kick Slytherin’s arse so Gryffindor can crush you in the finals!”

[Y/N] snorts. “Have it all thought out, don’t you, Ron?”

“Go on and cheer for your Slytherin boyfriend, [Y/N], no one’s stopping you,” says Harry, grinning. She turns to face him, mouth open in disbelief, and lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter.

“So, Harry,” [Y/N] says, suddenly deadpan. ”I see you’ve chosen Ron’s side.“

Harry snickers, then shrugs.

"Oh, Malfoy’s seen the snitch!” someone shouts from beside them. [Y/N] turns back to the game to see Malfoy zooming down the pitch, clutching the front of his broom as he swerves past Slytherin and Ravenclaw players alike in pursuit of the tiny golden ball all the way on the other side of the stadium, where [Y/N] and her friends are sat. He has the upper hand—Ravenclaw’s seeker is only just now starting to fly after him, but she’s a good distance behind and Malfoy is gaining speed.

“He’s gonna catch it!”

“Ravenclaw’s even worse than I thought,” grumbles Ron, slumping down in his seat.

But just as Malfoy passes by them, somehow, despite the fact that he is in pursuit of the bloody golden snitch and on the brink of securing victory for his team, he slows down just the tiniest bit, and then, in true Malfoy fashion—theatric as always in his displays of affection—he catches her eye and yells “This one’s for you, [Y/N]!”, a grin on his face before he hurtles down the pitch, stretching out his hand towards the fluttering snitch—

“Malfoy’s got the snitch!” Dean Thomas screams into his microphone. “Slytherin wins!”

[Y/N] stares, feeling oddly warm despite the wintry weather, as Malfoy spins around in mid-air, triumphantly holding up the snitch for the rest of Hogwarts to see.

“Blimey,” gapes Ron, wide-eyed, staring not at the Slytherin seeker but at [Y/N]. “That was—”

[Y/N] looks away from Malfoy to meet Ron’s gaze, maintaining indifference. “He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?” she mutters, and hopes that her friends will think that the blush on her cheeks is because of the cold and not because of something—someone else.

But that’s ridiculous. It is because of the cold, isn’t it?

“It may be Malfoy,” says Ron slowly, shaking his head, “But you can’t deny that was bloody romantic. Felt like I was watching something out of one of those Muggle films.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to ask him for tips,” says Harry, and starts laughing when [Y/N] rolls her eyes in response.

—

Malfoy may have stopped sending her Howlers, but that hardly matters because he has found every other way to pester her.

This includes consistently yelling out her name and shouting random pick-up lines every time he spots her in the hallway, as well as sending people to do her bidding—no longer first-years, but Crabbe and Goyle, who show up at random intervals everyday presenting her with a batch of different pastries. She always sends the pair off, but only after Ron and Harry accept said pastries for themselves.

“Blimey, this is heavenly!” gushes Ron, taking a passionate bite off of his second red velvet cupcake. “You sure you don’t want a bite, [Y/N]? Hermione?”

[Y/N] offers him an exasperated smile. “No, thank you, Ron.”

“Don’t thank me, thank your boyfriend.”

The four of them walk into the dingy Potions classroom. Snape is nowhere to be seen, but it’s only a matter of time before he swoops in all bat-like, so [Y/N] and Hermione quickly take a seat at their regular desk, right next to Ron and Harry.

“Have you done your homework?” asks Hermione, pulling out an assortment of parchment from her bag.

[Y/N] hums in response. “I doubt mine is half as good as yours, but hopefully I’ll scrape an acceptable.”

“Oh, you’re a good student, [Y/N]. Don’t bring yourself down.”

“Hard not to when I’m sitting next to the brightest witch in our year,” she nudges Hermione’s shoulder, smiling. Hermione huffs, rolling her eyes, but it’s clear by the pleased look on her face that she doesn’t hate [Y/N]’s honest flattery as much as she lets on.

[Y/N] drums her fingers on the desk to pass time, not quite paying attention to the students filtering into the classroom. Or at least not until one of them calls her name and drawls, “Is someone sitting here?”

[Y/N]’s head snaps around to see none other than Malfoy, gesturing to the desk to the left of hers and Hermione’s. “Mind if I,” he pauses, grinning, ”Slytherin?“

She purses her lips into a thin, tight line, inhaling deeply as she fights to keep her cool. Yes, there are times when Malfoy’s gestures have her questioning her own hatred for him, but this—this is not one of them.

"That,” she says, voice mostly level. “Is your seat, Malfoy. I don’t see why you have to ask me.”

Which is a lie. [Y/N] knows why, of course. To get her attention. To woo her. But part of her wishes that Malfoy would realize that everything he is doing, from the overbearing pick up lines to the cupcakes to his constant public declarations of love, isn’t something that [Y/N] thoroughly enjoys. Does she want him to stop yelling at her in the hallways? Yes. Does she want Crabbe and Goyle to stop bumbling up to her everywhere she goes (outside of the girl’s bathroom is one example) offering cupcakes and pie and tarts? Yes. But does she want Malfoy to stop trying entirely?

Maybe not. Maybe part of her wants to give him a chance. He does seem to truly hold feelings, judging from his confession back at the Quidditch stadium, unless he’s a terribly good actor.

And it wouldn’t just be him she’d be giving a chance, either. Perhaps she’d also be doing so to herself. Because, over the past month, it’s baffled her how quickly her feelings for him have shifted. Or maybe it’s not a change of feelings, but rather realization that under all that sneering and pureblood prejudice, Draco Malfoy is a boy.

An annoyingly attractive one.

But there is so much more that [Y/N] dislikes about him. His snootiness. His arrogance. His lack of consideration for other people’s feelings. He may be tall and lithe and undeniably handsome, and he may have very soft-looking platinum blond hair and stormy grey eyes like dark clouds, but he is also a prick. And that wins over everything else, no matter how.. visually pleasing he is.

So when a paper bird flutters in front of her halfway through the lesson, when Snape’s back is turned, [Y/N] hesitates. She knows fully well who it’s from, despite not having to look to the side and meet his gaze.

From beside her, Hermione whispers, “Get rid of it, before Snape sees.”

Exhaling, [Y/N] snatches the paper bird and quickly unfolds it.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting to see, but it’s certainly not the words “meet me at the Astronomy tower after dinner” scribbled across the parchment. And with a drawing of a face blowing kisses, no less.

[Y/N] sighs.

—

[Y/N] has no real feelings for Malfoy, so succumbing to his mysterious evening request at the Astronomy tower shouldn’t mean anything.

Scratch that: it doesn’t mean anything. Not to her. (Or so she tells herself.) This is a chance for her to tell Malfoy to sod off and to stop courting her. And for good, this time. No matter what that annoying little voice inside her head tells her, she can’t possibly even consider the idea of actually giving in to him. (And to herself.)

So she’s going to put a stop to it, once and for all.

“I’m going,” she decides over dinner, slamming her palms down on the table.

“Going where?” asks Harry.

“The Astronomy tower,” she replies resolutely.

“What, to go star-gazing?” Ron snickers. [Y/N] glances at him and realizes, quickly, that telling them had slipped her mind—she’d been far too preoccupied with her own conflicting thoughts.

She shifts in her seat. She doesn’t necessarily need to tell them, does she? It’s not as though it’s important enough to share. And besides, Ron would only badger her about it. Mercilessly. [Y/N] can already picture him in her head, talking about Malfoy and snogging under the stars and Merlin-knows-what-else.

“Nevermind,” says [Y/N], taking a bite out of a muffin and looking away. They don’t need to know; it’s not as though it’s important.

—

After [Y/N] has walked up all of the stairs to get there, only taking one or two shortcuts, she’s out of breath, but she creeps into the Astronomy tower anyway. It’s mostly dark save for the faint moonshine filtering in from the open sides, and, well—there he is.

Malfoy’s arms are crossed over his chest, his back mostly turned as he stands dangerously close to the railing, looking out over the dark landscape. Dim light catches on the side of his face, illuminating the grey of his eyes.

The curve of his nose.

Pale skin.

White-blond hair.

[Y/N] finds herself staring, one hand on the doorframe as though for support, brows furrowed in the middle in a slight frown as she watches him.

He looks lost in thought. Even from a few feet away, [Y/N] can see the far-off, distant look in his eyes. Like storms brewing behind dark clouds, she thinks to herself. It’s a quiet little whisper in the back of her mind that has her heart doing odd little flips inside of her chest that she never knew it was capable of.

But then she blinks.

This is the last thing [Y/N] needs. To see Malfoy stripped of his arrogance—to see him as he is, bathed in moonlight, glowing, almost. To look at him and to see a boy with eyes like molten silver and nothing more—it’s the last thing she needs to convince herself that she doesn’t feel something for him that isn’t hatred.

No, she doesn’t need this.

She turns around, breath caught in her throat, and starts walking down the steps. Accidentally, stupidly, her foot catches on a metal step and a loud clang echoes around the silent tower.

[Y/N] pauses, eyes wide.

“[Y/N]?” Malfoy’s voice says. He can’t see her. It’s too dark, and [Y/N] is too far down the steps.

She swallows. But instead of dreading what could come, she finds herself waiting, half-hoping that he’d check the staircase, that he would see her and—

And then what?

[Y/N] rushes down the steps, ignoring the loud noise her footsteps make on the way. This is the last thing she needs.

—

[Y/N] doesn’t like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn’t like Malfoy, and she is determined to make that clear. (Both to herself and to her friends, although the former seems to be taking a lot more convincing.)

“What is there to like about him? He’s nothing but an annoying pain in the arse who has an overwhelming amount of pride and arrogance simply because of his blood—which is not only something that he never rightfully earned but is also something that shouldn’t even bloody matter, except he thinks that it does solely because he is an absolute nutter who has nothing better to do with his life other than leech off of his parents’ money and shove it in other people’s faces.”

Ron meets Harry’s gaze from across the table, who seems to be trying very hard not to laugh. Swallowing down a forkful of pancakes, Ron looks back at [Y/N]. “I’m sorry,” he begins slowly. “But remind me again why we’re talking about Malfoy?”

“I’m not finished, Ronald,” [Y/N] snaps, shooting him a dirty look. Ron raises his eyebrows. “As I was saying before someone so rudely cut me off, Malfoy is a nasty little git who finds joy in making other people suffer. he probably has tiny puppies locked up inside his basement just so he can laugh in their faces and revel in their misery because he is that horrible of a person—”

Harry lurches with poorly suppressed laughter.

“An absolute terrible excuse for a human being! He basks in other people’s humiliation—mine, for example!—and I would much rather snog the Giant Squid than ever actually consider his—” She pauses, gritting her teeth. “Odd.. requests.”

“It’s not like he’s asking you to murder house-elves,” Ron mutters.

“Something that I would rather do than date him!”

“[Y/N]!” Hermione gasps, looking genuinely offended as she, for the first time since they’d arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, looks up from the homework she’s rushing to finish. (As if her five pieces worth of parchment aren’t enough—Flitwick had only asked for three!)

“Sorry, Hermione,” [Y/N] says, offering her an apologetic look that she only half-means. This quickly turns into a fierce look of challenge as she swivels back around in her seat to face the redhead sitting next to her. “Honestly, since when have you started defending Malfoy?”

Ron blanches. “I’m not defending him!” he says indignantly, setting his fork down on his plate. “It’s just.. yeah, it’s a bit odd that he’s declaring his undying love for you out of bloody nowhere, but he’s stopped badgering us, hasn’t he? Nasty little ferret hasn’t said a word to Harry for weeks! And that goes for me and Hermione, too!”

[Y/N] narrows her eyes at him. “So you think it’s great that he’s stopped annoying you at the cost of my suffering?”

“What suffering!” Ron exclaims. “He’s been treating you like a bloody princess!”

“Oh, why don’t you just snog him yourself, then, if you think so highly of him?”

Ron’s jaw drops in shocked offense.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Harry announces, reaching over the table to shove the two apart from each other. “Why doesn’t one of you switch seats with me before you end up strangling each other?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” [Y/N]’s lip curls. “I might have to hold Ron back before he goes running off to his ferret prince—or should we just let him? Merlin knows he’d love to, won’t you, Ronald?”

Ron’s teeth are gritted; his eyes dart around the food on the table as though looking for the most effective weapon. He seems to be choosing between a green apple and rhubarb pie.

Thankfully, Ron never gets to take his pick. The bell rings, saving everyone in the Great Hall from witnessing what could have possibly been a brawl between friends. “Come on, let’s go,” says Harry quickly, relief evident in his tone of voice as he ushers the pair to their feet. “Wouldn’t want to be late for class.”

—

[Y/N] doesn’t like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn’t like Malfoy, but why does she find herself staring at him whenever she comes across him in the hallway the next day? Why, when Malfoy meets her gaze, does she look away and pretend to be immersed in something else?

And why in the bloody hell, when Malfoy playfully winks at her during Potions class, does she find it very, very hard not to smile?

She walks out of the dungeon classroom in a hurry with Ron, Harry, and Hermione, not wanting to spend a minute more in Malfoy’s presence; she doesn’t particularly enjoy being suddenly hyperaware of every move he makes, every little glance he sends her way when he thinks she isn’t paying attention. It’s as though something in her system has gone awry. Is that why her heart feels like it’s about to hop right out of her chest? Is that why she can’t stop wondering what would’ve happened if she’d stayed at the Astronomy tower?

“Hey, wait up!” Harry calls loudly as they walk up the stone steps leading away from the dungeons and into the main hallway, which is bustling with students.

[Y/N], who had been walking far too fast in front of the three, looks back over her shoulder and sees that they’re a few feet away. She stops, seemingly flustered, and waits for them to catch up.

"You look like you’ve wet your pants,” says Ron.

“I’m not you, Ron,” she retorts.

“Oh, can you two please stop bickering for once?” says Hermione, exasperated.

From behind the three, Draco Malfoy emerges from the potions classroom and begins walking up the stone steps. [Y/N]’s hands clench into fists at her side as she discretely presses her back to the stone wall at her sides.

The blond doesn’t even as much as glance at Ron, Harry, and Hermione as he passes by them on the steps. [Y/N], however—once Malfoy has reached the step below the one she’s standing on, he pauses, no less than two feet away from her, and quirks an eyebrow.

“What?” [Y/N] scowls, trying not to look at the strand of blond hair dangling in front of his eyes.

Malfoy’s gaze dances over her face. “Was it you?”

She meets her friends’ eyes over Malfoy’s shoulder. Ron and Harry have their eyebrows raised; Hermione looks concerned. [Y/N] takes a moment to compose herself—tries to force her heart back into her chest—before she folds her arms across her chest and looks at the Slytherin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“At the Astronomy tower,” Malfoy says, and moves up one step so that he’s standing on the same one she’s on. A foot away. “I heard someone last night, while I was waiting for you.”

Oh, Merlin.

“You came, didn’t you?” he presses on.

“No,” [Y/N] lies, and hates how defensive she sounds. She shifts a little on her feet, her eyes skirting away to look at a random spot behind Malfoy. “I was.. at the library. Doing things of actual importance.”

There’s a slight pause as Malfoy’s nose wrinkles. “Must’ve been someone else spying on me, then,” he finally says through a scoff, but [Y/N] knows disappointment when she sees it. He rolls his shoulders back and puts on his signature smirk, inclining his head towards her as he takes another step up the stairs. “Better hurry and give me an answer, [Y/N],” he tells her, grinning. “Before one of my admirers get to me first.”

[Y/N] watches as he walks up the steps and disappears into the hallway.

“The library?” a voice says incredulously. She turns back to Ron, whose face is scrunched in disbelief. “No, you weren’t! We were waiting for you there and you never came.”

[Y/N] folds her arms across her chest indignantly but doesn’t respond, instead walking up the stone steps.

“Malfoy said he was waiting for you at the Astronomy tower,” says Hermione slowly as they trail after her; [Y/N] speeds up her pace. “Is that why you mentioned going there during dinner last night?”

[Y/N] emerges into the main corridor first. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did!” bursts Ron, sounding downright triumphant.

“Congratulations, Ron, you don’t have the memory range of a teaspoon, after all,” [Y/N] mutters, looking around. Malfoy is walking down the hallway a few feet ahead of them, Crabbe and Goyle at his side.

Ron ignores her. “I bet you did go. I bet you did spy on him—” And then he gasps, looking as though he’s unearthed the secret of life. “Merlin’s beard, you really do fancy him, don’t you?”

[Y/N]’s footsteps falter. Ron, Harry, and Hermione stop right with her.

Hermione is the only one who doesn’t look stunned out of her mind. Looking between the two boys, she rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Honestly, is that so hard to believe?” says Hermione, frowning. “I understand that it’s Malfoy and he is a prick, but [Y/N] is perfectly entitled to fancy whoever she likes.” She turns to [Y/N]. “It’s fine, [Y/N], you don’t have to feel guilty about it. Anyone would catch feelings if someone started doing such sweet things for them, even if it were someone like Malfoy.”

“Blimey,” says Harry, breathless. “Which part sealed the deal, [Y/N]? The pick-up lines? Or was it the cupcakes?”

[Y/N], who had been opening and closing her mouth like a fish blown out of water, finally stops trying to find words that just aren’t there and instead drags her palm across her face in frustration. “I don’t..” she says, sounding defeated, but really—now that she’s faced with such confrontation, it’s easier to admit to herself that maybe.. maybe she does fancy Malfoy.

Ron’s lips have split into a jubilant grin. ”I called it!“ he says, smacking Harry’s shoulder. "Bloody knew it!”

Hermione reaches out to rub [Y/N]’s back. “Don’t feel too bad about it, [Y/N]. I sort of knew—you looked at him differently after he confessed to you on the pitch.”

[Y/N] sighs, realizing that no amount  of denying it will convince her friends. Or herself.

She does fancy Malfoy.

Properly acknowledging it—finally admitting it to herself—is oddly relieving. She’s been keeping her feelings cooped up inside of her chest despite the fact they are so much bigger than her, and now that she’s letting them burst free.. now that she’s coming to terms with them..

Well. It’s not the worst feeling ever.

Ron is still beaming, looking as though he’s won the lottery. And apparently, in a way, he has: “Fred and George said it’d take you a month longer to give in. I said it’d take you less—guess I’ve won myself two galleons!”

[Y/N]’s mouth falls open. “You bet on this?”

Ron raises his eyebrows, as though surprised to hear that she didn’t know. “Uh, I and the entire bloody castle.”

Struck by a sudden burst of both annoyance and confidence, [Y/N], scowling, detaches herself from her friends and strides down the hallway towards Malfoy, full of intent. He hasn’t noticed her yet; his back is still turned, but she catches up to him easily. And when she does, she unceremoniously bumps her shoulder into his and grabs his hand, quickly interlacing her fingers through his.

“What the hell—”

Malfoy, obviously taken aback, tries to pull his hand away, sneering, until his gaze lands on [Y/N].

“Keep walking, Malfoy,” she says scathingly, not quite looking at him.

Baffled, Malfoy stares at her, then down at their hands, which are now tightly interlocked between them. [Y/N] scowls resolutely at the hallway ahead of her.

And then Malfoy laughs, more out of disbelief than amusement.

“Keep walking,” [Y/N] repeats, this time turning to look at him, fighting to keep her gaze indifferent. The last thing she wants Malfoy to know is that there is an onslaught of tiny little butterflies rampaging in her stomach and a tingly feeling spreading from their hands all the way up her spine and into her heart.

Malfoy’s lips tug up into a wide grin—a real one, [Y/N] thinks. Not an arrogant smirk or a deprecating sneer; one that she can’t ever recall seeing. But now that she has, she finds herself wishing he’d do it more often.

[Y/N] tugs him along as she walks, feeling the stunned stares of her friends boring into her skull from behind. (Ron is going to have a field day about this.)

“So,” Malfoy begins, and she doesn’t have to look at him to know that he’s still grinning down at her. “Changed your mind, haven’t you?”

[Y/N] rolls her eyes; she doesn’t fail to notice the way that the students they’re passing by are staring at them, eyes wide, whispering to themselves. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Malfoy shrugs. “Among other things.”

She side-eyes him, muttering, “Does that include snogging?”

He makes an amused sound at the back of his throat. “You said it, not me.”

[Y/N] has to grit her teeth to stop the corners of her lips from tugging up. They turn a corner down the hallway, disappearing from both their friends’ views (assuming they haven’t followed them). At this thought, [Y/N] takes a brief glance over her shoulder—and sure enough, there’s a redhead peeking out of a group of very confused Ravenclaws.

Cursing Ron Weasley inside her head, she turns her gaze back ahead of her. ”I have Charms class next.“

Malfoy raises his brows. "And what do you expect me to do with that information?”

“Walk me there,” says [Y/N] briskly.

She can practically feel the surprise radiating off of the blond next to her. A moment later, he throws his head back in a loud laugh. “And you want me to be late to Transfiguration? It’s all the way on the other side of the castle.”

[Y/N] hums. “Can’t even do that for the girl you fancy?”

There’s a beat of silence. His grip on her hand falters a little as he says, voice still nonchalant and yet at the same time holding an undeniable sense of sincerity, “I could if I knew she wasn’t leading me on.”

“She isn’t,” [Y/N] says, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Malfoy is staring at her with his brows pulled in together just slightly at the middle, giving off the impression that he’s trying to decide whether or not she’s being serious. He slows down his pace until he comes to a full stop, urging [Y/N] to halt alongside him until they’re standing in the middle of the hallway, oblivious to the stares following them and the redhead a mere few feet away.

“How do I know this isn’t a prank?” says Malfoy, lip slowly curling as he narrows his eyes at her, the first few traces of suspicion etching itself onto his face now that the whole ridiculousness of the situation has finally sunken in. [Y/N] can’t blame him; her antics—suddenly marching up to him in the hallway, grabbing his hand and walking with him as though they’ve been doing it for years—all of it is uncalled for after having ruthlessly turned him down so many times before. But [Y/N] can’t delve into a discussion of her conflicting emotions—at least not right now—so she hopes, at least for now, that he will take her word for it.

She clears her throat.  "Well,“ she begins, looking down at their hands; Malfoy’s grip has gone slack. "If I wanted to hold your hand, I’d do it because I wanted to. Not because I wanted to get a rise out of you.” She lets her gaze go back up to his, brows rising in familiar challenge. “I don’t stoop that low, Malfoy. You’ve been in love with me for years—shouldn’t you know that by now?”

There are a few seconds in which the blond standing before her still looks at her with a scrutinizing gaze, lips set into a thin, hard line and his eyes swimming with conflict that [Y/N] wouldn’t have been able to see from afar, but sees in perfect clarity now that she’s standing a mere foot away from him. But then, after what feels like ages, Malfoy nods, slowly, frown smoothing out into an expression of—could that be relief?

“I will be late for Transfiguration, you know,” he says, lips quirking up into a grin.

[Y/N] laughs. (A real one, Draco thinks to himself.) This time she doesn’t try to stop herself from smiling; just lets her lips do so of their own accord. It feels nice. Freeing. “Better just one of us than two, don’t you think?” she says, mirroring his playful grin. “And besides, Goyle can stand in for you. You two do have quite the resemblance.”

“Oh, sod off.”

And it really is very odd, because everything about this shouldn’t feel right; they’ve been enemies for the longest time, and a year ago, [Y/N] would have been revolted at the mere idea of ever coming close to Draco Malfoy—but it does. That is, it feels right. Like they’ve been this way for ages and this playful, harmless banter is the most natural thing.

Draco isn’t perfect—Merlin, does he have a long way to go—but if he means to stop being a prat as long as [Y/N] is at his side, then she is willing to venture into whatever has formed between them.

And if this little bond is going to involve any more of this—this being her and Draco exaggeratedly swinging their arms between them as he walks her to Charms class with their fingers still intertwined, snickering, waiting for one of them to start complaining about their arm sockets hurting—then maybe it isn’t the worst thing ever, after all.

INFINITELY YOU SERIES MASTERLIST // link to general masterlist here

🕷️ SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

🕸️ WARNINGS - story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

PART ONE // back at the beginning

PART TWO // crullers & constants

no more what ifs

pairing: akira kurusu / ren amamiya / joker x gn!reader

summary: a look inside akira's diary reveals all the thoughts the boy has had about you, including his feelings for you..

"oooh, what's this~?"

akira and you had been waiting for the rest of the phantom thieves to join the two of you at leblanc and while you were upstairs, in his room, you were checking out the interior, when you came across a little notebook. 

"huh?"

akira had been too busy looking at his phone, exchanging messages with ryuji in the group chat, to notice the little book in your hands. by the time he looked up and spotted it in your hands, it was already too late and you were flipping through the pages of it. 

"w-wait, that's not something you should be seeing!"

he shouldn't have said that, because now you knew you had to find out what he was keeping a secret in here! 

"is this a diary?"

you turned one page after another at a rapid speed, just glancing at the pages, before moving on to the next one, before you found a certain side that caught your attention. 

"you looked so pretty today, y/n. i could barely look at you, without my face turning red. though i wished i could see you like this more often. your beauty had me captivated and i could swear i feel in love with you even further"

you quietly read the words out loud, your cheeks turning red as you realized what you were just reading. was this a confession? 

"y/n, give me that!"

akira had gotten up by now, quickly snatching the notebook from your hands. his face almost had the same color as yours – a dark red! just by seeing your face, akira knew that you had read at least one of his confessions he had written down in his notebook. 

"s-sorry, i… i didn't know that you…" 

"can we just… forget about this?"

akira sighed softly and stepped back, letting himself fall onto his bed. 

"n-no, i–"

his eyes widened as you told him no. why wouldn't you want to forget this? it was absolutely embarrassing, having his crush find out he liked them thanks to his unfiltered thoughts being written down like this. 

"i don't want to forget…"

"and why wouldn't you…?"

akira could swear that your red cheeks darkened even more. 

"because… what you wrote there was really sweet. and… sometimes, i have similar thoughts. about you…"

now akira was the one who could swear his cheeks somehow got even more red.

"you do…?"

he got up from his bed again, slowly walking towards you. 

"i do…"

the gap between you closed and akira now stood in front of you, smiling down on you. 

"then… would you mind if i… kissed you?"

if you had flipped down a few pages further, you would've seen more of his unfiltered thoughts about you, including a detailed paragraph about how kissable your lips looked. 

"only if i get to read a bit more from your diary~"

akira chuckled and leaned in, his lips hovering close to yours. 

"deal~"

he whispered, before gently pressing his lips onto yours. 

What Do We Call This? - Masterlist

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.

Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, OP spoilers.

01 || 02

Hi I'm wondering if your requests are open but can I request a scenario with Ryusui who is constantly rejected by the reader ? & thank you ! XD

okay i absolutely adored this request and went in with the intention of trying to write comedy and accidentally make it slightly angsty??!!! (happy ending though i promise.) admittedly i found this surprisingly challenging to write- i've said before that i'm not very confident with my characterization of ryusui and that's probably pretty evident in this oneshot, but nevertheless i hope you still enjoy!

synopsis: he desires everything, including you--and it makes you nervous.

warnings: manga spoilers!! beware, as i said some angst but happy ending :)

word count: 2.2k

note: it's almost 2am and i reeeallly wanted to get this out so its poorly edited as always. might come back later with a fresh mind

You didn’t know what it would take to get Ryusui off your back.

Before the two of you became friends, you were certain that Ryusui Nanami was one of the most insufferable people you’ve ever met, always on about desire this and desire that. His arrogance infuriated you. ‘How is anyone supposed to work with this guy?’ you would think to yourself. Over time however, you realized that beneath his selfish and sometimes harsh exterior, Ryusui is a caring guy with a lot of ambition and determination who genuinely loves people and what the world has to offer. In some ways, you could relate to his way of thinking, but it didn’t make his overbearing desires and booming voice any less irritating.

The two of you eventually became decent friends through the work you put into building the Perseus, and even closer friends through your adventures together with the rest of the crew. But something you found strange about your relationship with Ryusui was that, even though you disliked him quite a bit when the two of you were mere strangers, he’s always liked you. 

This shouldn’t be too weird; as said, Ryusui loves people. No matter who they are or how long he’s known them, Ryusui can always find something to like about someone, which you couldn’t help but respect about him from the beginning. But Ryusui always presented his desires for a person in a way that was seen as admiration and awe of them. While he presented his desire to want you in this way as well, he later also started presenting his desire for you in a romantic way you observed he didn’t desire anyone else. 

At some point, Ryusui Nanami realized that he desired you as a romantic partner. What caught you off guard one day was the fact that he told you. 

This weird proclamation came from him when you confronted his bold and “special” treatment toward you. He often offered you heaps of Drago for the most trivial things you did, claiming they were worthy of the money he bestowed upon you. He encouraged you to use the money to buy an outfit you had eyed from Senku’s department store or some cotton candy, occasionally even making purchases for you. He’d invite you to bask in his luxuries together, setting up a chair for you beside him with members of the Kingdom of Science feeding and cooling you down after a hard day's work. If there was something you had mentioned you wanted, or hell, even liked or loved, Ryusui would take a mental note of it and look for ways to obtain it. Flowers by a hillside you thought were pretty? A bouquet will show up by your tent. Mumbling out loud about how you could use some fresh tools? An assortment of polished ones will be gifted to you by Ryusui himself. You were confused and taken aback by the sudden affection, and blunt as ever, Ryusui responded “In truth, Y/N, I desire you as my partner, and I want you by my side!”

Ryusui desires the Earth, heavens and seas. He seemingly wants every conceivable item, skill and trait, and he isn’t shy about these bold desires; he never has been. So even though this proclamation was no different than the rest, it still surprised you just the same. He wanted you as a partner? 

And so that’s what led to your current dilemma: you didn’t know what it would take to get Ryusui off your back. 

You’ve heard from Minami about how Ryusui was rarely seen without the company of a beautiful girl. He was constantly around them and dubbed a playboy by the media before the petrification. No way he’s loyal. 

“What can I tell you; I love everyone! But in this day and age, I love you, and only you--romantically.”

Sure, you two knew each other a fair amount, but you’ve still only just met. Plus, you have an important mission ahead of the two of you. Won’t a relationship interfere with that?

“Then let me get to know you more, Y/N. I want you to be mine. No journey or grueling mission will change that.” 

And when Ryusui Nanami desires something, he’s determined to obtain it or make it come to fruition. But you were still reluctant, and so you turned him down.

Every attempt at flirting was shut down, every date offer was rejected, and gifts were either politely returned or hesitantly kept because of Ryusui's insistence. All these failures would surely have the average person give it up and get over the rejection. But this was Ryusui Nanami, and he was confident that you just needed time to come around. 

With the help of Francois, Ryusui went full out trying to win you over. He asked Francois to make you your favorite foods, he complimented you frequently, whether it was your appearance, a thought you shared or something you did, and in small ways looked after you.

There were many times when you really were in awe of him. He always did his best to look out for you, in and out battle, sometimes even preventing you from sustaining major injuries or helping you recuperate after you take on too much work.

But then he’d open his mouth and say something like “after all this is done, we should wind down in my quarters” and you’d scoff and move away from him while he'd either laugh or stare at you with a small frown. When you’re struggling with something, he’s always quick to be the first one to come to your aid, and yeah, you notice how he takes every chance he gets to stand obnoxiously close to you.

However, Ryusui never takes his antics too far. As soon as you shoot him a dirty look, he's inches away from you and putting his hands up in mock surrender. He’s not focusing all his attention on trying to win you over; after all, you two are a part of the Perseus crew for good reason. But any chance Ryusui gets to charm you, he’ll take. 

-

“I clean up nice, am I wrong, Y/N?” 

When it came down to deciding what route to take to America, while you understood the realistic approach Ryusui wanted to take, you agreed with Senku’s more logical plan of action. What you didn’t expect was a game of poker to be initiated in order to decide who’s plan will be executed. 

“I’m hurt you’re siding with Senku on this one, but you’ll thank me for saving you from the burden of Senku’s route once I win.” Ryusui seemed to have the utmost confidence that he’d reign victorious with Gen Asagiri, the master of trickery and deceit, on his side, but you had to suppress your smile when his jaw dropped as Kohaku seated herself beside Senku. With Kohaku’s sharp eyes, she’d be able to spot and put a stop to any dirty moves Gen tries to pull. A tense game ensued, and your gaze shifted between eyeing Ryusui and Gen’s wicked grins and Senku and Kohaku’s skeptical expressions. In the end, as you had predicted, Senku had won the game, which meant that his plan would be put to action. As cheers erupted from the crew watching and money was tossed around in the air from the bets made beforehand, Ryusui reluctantly turned his head toward you, and you had to muffle your laughter behind your hand upon seeing his dumbfounded expression as you rolled your eyes and left the riot.

You were surprised to hear that Ryusui’s shock and disappointment wore off quick after revealing that he and Francois had opened a casino for the entire crew to enjoy, which didn’t sound awful to you. The formal attire worn while playing poker inspired you to dress up a little for a fun night with your friends. How long had it been since you’ve had some modern fun? 

You sat by Bar Francois in formal wear that you and a couple members of the crew had bought from Yuzuriha before you left for your trip, laughing at the retelling of fond memories from the pre-petrification world and sipping on your drink every once in a while. It was the most calm and at home you felt in a long while, and you were silently grateful to the eccentric captain for the work he put into making the casino. When the conversation died down a little, Nikki, who was one of the people you had talked to about your situation with the sailor, shifted her gaze toward someone in the middle of the room. “Uh oh. Lover boy looks like he wants to make a move.” 

Your eyes followed Nikki’s gaze and you were suddenly met with Ryusui’s widened brown ones shining under the moonlight. For a moment, there was no movement from either one of you, but then Ryusui swallowed and made a slow beeline for you. Nikki quickly turned away when you nudged her for the inappropriate nickname. “Look, I completely understand why you keep turning him down but…who knows. Maybe a date won’t be so bad.”

And with that, she excused herself and walked off. 

-

Ryusui had asked if the two of you could roam around the ship, away from everyone else, and you agreed, the exhaustion from the eventful night slowly catching up to you. Ryusui’s hands were clasped behind his back as he made conservation, taking into account your exhaustion and making sure you didn’t need to give him any lengthy responses to any of his comments or questions. 

Throughout the slightly one-sided conversation, Ryusui teased and flirted, as he always managed to do with you, and as you picked up on each charm attempt, you thought back to what Nikki had told you earlier that evening. “Maybe a date wouldn’t be so bad…”

“I’m glad to see you enjoying yourself in the casino. You look beautiful, as you always do, but seeing you in formal attire was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps next time you dress up will be for a date in my quarters?” 

You sighed deeply. This offer was unlike so many others Ryusui made. It wasn’t upfront and in your face, it wasn’t loud or grand. Hell, it almost seemed shy or- no- hopeful. You were staring down at Ryusui’s shoes, the confliction you felt evident on your face. Suddenly, you couldn’t hear the heels of Ryusui’s shoes clicking against the wooden floor as he walked alongside you. You stopped and turned around to see the captain with his head down. 

“Ryusui, I…” 

“I’m…sorry if I’ve forced you into a corner, Y/N. I never meant for my persistence to be overwhelming, I guess I didn’t expect to like you this much.” He laughed humourlessly staring at the ground, his hands still behind his back. You couldn’t find the words to consolidate him. You had never seen him so down.

But then he suddenly turned his head to look up at you and slowly started approaching you.

“Just one chance, Y/N,” one step. Two.

“I promise you,” another step.

“I won’t be wasting your time.”

He took one final step so he was standing directly in front of you. For a second, all the two of you did, could do, was stare at each other, your tired eyes examining Ryusui’s glimmering, hopeful ones. And then, without breaking eye contact, Ryusui pulls out a small bouquet of flowers. Ones you had seen on Treasure Island, which seemed to be preserved surprisingly well. You think you remember commenting on their beauty on one of your expeditions.

Up until tonight, Ryusui’s gestures have never been something you thought too deeply about; at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself. But now, Ryusui has confronted you with a billion percent seriousness. Maybe it was something about his flamboyant nature that made you uneasy and reluctant to even consider the possibility of being something more with him. Maybe it’s why you shoved down your thoughts and feelings, let your fears surface and become easy ways to excuse yourself. After all, you had plenty of those with the circumstances you two were in. 

Was he getting discouraged? Would this be his final attempt at winning you over? Knowing Ryusui, probably not. He seemed determined, but looking closer you could see his shoulders sagging, the grip on the flowers loose, as if he was sad. His face didn’t carry his usual boyish grin or dazzling smile. Only furrowed brows and a small frown. Admittedly, all you could really think was ‘is he serious?’ and stare in confusion. 

Ryusui’s eyes slowly trailed down to the flowers, and a dull ache spread over your heart started upon seeing his face slowly contort into one of disappointment. Maybe a date wouldn’t be so bad. 

And so as Ryusui was about to tell you that he wouldn’t give up on you, he heard you sigh and felt your fingers brush over his, watching you take the bouquet from his hands. His head jutted forward, and his mouth morphed into an “o” as his eyes found yours again, widening when you gave him a small smile.

“Oh, what the hell. So, dinner in your quarters, huh?”

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.

I TOTALLY FELT YOU WHEN YOU SAID DR STONE IS LIKE A DRUG OMG its like my lifeline at this point

i was wondering if i could request a small drabble or headcanons for ryusui !! i keep having this repeating idea of him with a reader who’s like his childhood friend and ever since they were young, ryusui always tried to pursue them romantically but reader would always just laugh it off, thinking he was joking. but ryusui never gave up on his love for the reader!!

(spoilers for the treasure island arc)

but once everyone on the perseus gets petrified, leaving the reader (who had gone with the recon team to scout the area), reader starts to realize just how much they were worried for him, and especially when he comes back to them in fragments after kohaku smashed him. and the second that he gets revived, the reader is all over him and telling him how worried they were, and the second that the two of them are alone (maybe the team recognized that they were having a moment and let them have it?) reader confesses that they return his feelings and the possibility of possibly losing him helped them realize that? O:

male reader would be preferred (ryusui bi icon frfr), but i dont mind gender neutral!! :D

thank you so much for your time in advance, and remember to stay hydrated!! (expect more interactions from me, im literally obsessed with your works ❤️❤️)

彡zai says- the brain rot this gave me was insane back on my dr stone grind!! he really is a bi icon i'll never forget what he said to tsukasa (ngl i read it a year ago so i spitballed the lore lol)

paring: ryusui x male reader

warnings: SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

ever since you were kids you were always the main thing on his mind. he was constantly teasing you and clinging to your side. as you got older it turned into him flirting with you and seeing how far he could push your buttons until you got flustered.

when senku broke him from the stone he was more focused on you than himself, he knew you had an impressive skill set and he used that to his advantage. even if they didn’t have enough revival fluid he brought you along anyways, dressing your statue so when they could revive you, you were ready to go.

when you came to you immediately fell into someone’s arms. their hold on you was firm but also familiar, and their scent was familiar too it was almost comforting. you pulled back to look back at them, and you were met with ryusui smiling down at you “i missed you.”

you laughed and gently removed yourself from his hold “i’m sure you did.” you didn’t notice it but his face slightly faltered.

his flirting was no better when the two of you were alone, as a matter of fact, it was only worse. the two of you sat alone staring at the moon, he spent most of the time staring at you instead of the sky “you’re so handsome, the way you shine in the moonlight is amazing.” you laughed again and rolled your eyes. you always assumed his flirting was just empty words, he was the human version of greed after all he craves everything the world has to offer and he does this to everyone.

“you don’t have to keep saying those things ryusui. i know you don’t mean them.”

he stared at you, no matter how many times he tells you he adores you or how many times he admits how he wants nothing more in the world than you, you never believed him.

at least not until the incident.

when you first laid eyes on his stone body you wanted to scream but you couldn't, the scream was barely louder than a whisper hardly a scream at all. it only got harder when kohaku brought him and the others back as fragments.

the second he was revied the team cleared out and kohaku sent you a knowing glance.

one the two of you were alone you immediately wrapped your arms around him pulling him into a hug "i was so worried about you, i thought i lost you." he returned your embrace and rested a hand on the back of your head pulling you closer to him "you could never lose me." he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, and for the first time instead of backing away from his affection you accepted it.

you gently pull back from his hug to look at him face to face "i've realized some things."

he raises a brow "and what would that be?"

"how much i care for you, and how much you care for me." his hand moves to gently cup your cheek while his thumb gently caressed your cheek "oh? and how much do i care for you?"

"you've basically spent most of our lives trying to win me over, and every time i never really responded to them or gave you any straight answer. so why did you never give up?"

he smiled at you "that's easy. because i'm the greediest guy there is." your face slightly fell which caused him to chuckle "you didn't let me finish. because i'm the greediest guy there is i know there's no greater treasure than your heart. i'd stop at nothing to make you my boyfriend and to be yours."

Could you write ryusui x reader where after they break him out of the stone, he refuses to do anything until his s/o is found and de petrified? Comfy cute reunion as well?? I love your blog, thank you!!

OMG, THIS REQUEST. I love Ryusui and this was waaaay too cute! I tried my best, but I feel like I didn't do it justice ( ; ω ; ) I hope you'll still enjoy it nonetheless!

ryusui nanami ♡

Minami was already against the idea of reviving Ryusui, as she knew his boldpersonality (it was a sweet way to put it) would most definitely cause problems. However, she quickly concluded that Senku didn't seem to care about these sort of things, as he poured the revival fluid on Ryusui's statue under her eyes.

His loud outburst as he was freed from his stone prison had everyone speechless. Minami could only look back at Senku as a way to say, “I told you so!”, but he avoided her gaze.

And as Ryusui realized that the world had changed, while Senku explained to him what was the reason behind his revival, he came to a stop.

“There seems to be a misunderstanding. Will I thank you for reviving me, I can only help you under one condition.” He stated, arms crossed against his chest. Senku blinked, before sighing. “And what's this condition?”

“I refuse to do anything until (Y/n) is revived.” Ryusui affirmed, and Senku groaned. He was starting to run out of the fluid, and he wanted him to use it again?

“(Y/n)...” Minami whispered, tasting the name on her tongue. “Is that your partner?” She suddenly asked, as vague memories slowly resurfaced.

“That's right!” He claimed proudly, fingers snapping. “And until they're not here, I'm not helping.”

Minami knew that there was no point in arguing. Ryusui wouldn't take no for an answer, because as soon as he desired something, he would obtain it no matter what it took. And you seemed to be his top priority.

“(Y/n) is indispensable. I'll have you know that they're the best assistant you could ask for, and their skills should be as needed as mine.” Ryusui declared, and Senku could only wonder if it was love speaking or not. He only had one revival fluid left, and without any way to produce it again, he couldn't allow to waste it only to grant Ryusui's wish.

“Well...while the media weren't too focused on them, I remember reading their name multiple times on significant articles.” Minami whispered, hand under her chin. At this, Ryusui smiled proudly.

“That's right! They're the best!” He shouted, voice full of fondness. Minami couldn't help but think that his devotion towards you was quite adorable. She also wondered how you managed to handle him...

“Well, since it's the only way...” Senku whispered, more to himself than anything. If you were competent, there was no reason for him to protest.

It didn't take long to find you. Ryusui crouched down beside your statue, fingertips slowly stroking your cold cheek. Since he met you, you were always on his side and never failed to support his dreams and wishes, no matter how selfish they seemed. Eager to learn how to navigate, Ryusui taught you everything. So how could he let you behind, when you made everything brighter?

As Senku poured the revival fluid on you, Ryusui watched in fascination as the stone slowly started to break, revealing patches of soft skin.

You blinked, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand where you were. Your eyes landed on Ryusui's face, and despite your confusion, you could only melt at his dazzling smile.

“Ryusui? In what mess did you get us into again?” You asked, and before you could even sit up, he picked you up, while laughing at your surprised squeal.

He spun with you in his arms, a hand under your tighs and the other behind your head. You giggled at his childish antics as he stared at you lovingly, glad to see your face again after all these years.

As Ryusui steadied himself, you started to realize that you weren't alone and that you were in fact, naked. In front of all these people.

You buried yourself against Ryusui, trying to hide your body and keep a once of decency.

“Could you...lend me your coat?” You whispered, face flushed. Ryusui blinked, before staring at you without shame. Oh, how much you wanted to strangle him.

“Ryusui! Your coat!” “Sorry, sorry! Here!” He replied, lips tugged into a smug smile. As he helped you to put it, you watched from the corner of your eyes all these new faces. Bashful, most of them looked away making you smile. They didn't seem so bad.

Now fully clothed, Senku approached you, hands on his hips. You listened to him as he explained why Ryusui and you were needed. He didn't forget to mention Ryusui's caprice about you, and you had to restrain a laugh. Of course, he would.

“So, was I truly the only condition for you to help them?” You murmured to the blond-haired man, suspicious. While you didn't doubt about his insistence to revive you, you knew Ryusui better than everyone.

“Well, you were the most important condition, of course!” He started, ruffling your hair. “But since we're going to be in charge of their lives, I fully intend for them to pay us.” He continued, only for you to hear. There was your Ryusui.

“What? You know me, I'm an avid man after all!” He stated as you gave him a pointed look.

“How did you manage to make me fall in love with you, I'll never understand.” You sighed, but as he leaned towards you to kiss you tenderly, you smiled.

“And now?” He asked playfully. “Maybe your irresistible charm helped, yeah.”

fr tho why is everything smut😭😭 i wanna read angst that would ruin me, make me sick to my stomach and cry like there's no tomorrow bro i want a fanfic that is so devastating that i won't be able to function for the next few months

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.

EAVESDROP CONFESSIONS

tsukasa tenma x gn! reader ; knight! au

lowercase intended, semi-angst (?)

based on his lim card !! enjoy <3

reader's pov

'to serve the princess.' you thought, wiping off the sweat on your face. being one of the five chosen knights to be the serve princess tenma, or saki as she insisted, was difficult. it included intense training from day to night, you thought that you would get used to it by now, being a senior, but how wrong you were. the king demanded extra hours and more intense training, especially now when the country is at risk of being under attack.

'to serve the country.' you thought, trying to 'fix' your wet hair, who are you trying to impress?, it was so wet that it could be mistaken as the niagra falls. finding the action useless, you gave out a small sigh and started removing your armor.

'to fight for the people.' you thought, changing into something more comfortable. your mind wondered to the people in kamiyama, the elderly who never hesitated to gift fruits and pray for the knights, the adults who looked at them with respect and gratitude, and to the teens and children, who either wanted to be a knight or just want to support them.

'to fight along with my friends.' you thought, stepping out of the bathroom. dressed in your most comfortable clothes, and even finding a way to dry and fix your hair. again, who are you trying to impress? your mind shifted from the people to your fellow knights. those present when you where still a recruit and those present when you where finally chosen as one the princess' personal bodyguards, who where definitely hanging around in the courtyard, waiting for you so you could all go to dinner together.

shinonome akito. a boy with bright orange hair and a strong build. he is one of the three newest knights selected, blessed upon by strength and talent with his sword, he never fails to strike any enemy down. he is someone who is always there for his friends, someone who always speaks his mind. though he is easily irritated, he can control his actions.

akiyama mizuki. with the talent of staying stunning even after hours and hours of training, they never fail to amaze you. the only time you were never amazed is when you see their pink locks running towards to you, locking you into an inescapable embrace and ushering you to their room to "try a new hairstyle" or to "try a new dress I (they) recently made", basically being their irl mannequin. though aside from being full of surprises, they are actually good in the battlefield. along with akito, they are apart of the newly recruited personal bodyguards. with their agility and speed, they are always two steps ahead from the enemy.

hinomori shiho. joining the army for her sister, she never lets herself get side-tracked. her fierce swordsmanship and personality was something praised upon by everyone, including the king himself. he couldn't help stare in awe when he looked from his castle window, there he saw a young girl, immediately defeating her partner for that day. he didn't even let her graduate as a knight, when night had fallen that day, he immediately called me. he told me to "tell instructor shiraishi, that cadet hinomori will be transferred into the castle to serve the queen." and thats what i did, making her the final newly recruited bodyguards of princess saki.

thinking about them makes you proud, they deserve the position they have today. but you also remember of your former comrades, kamishiro rui, kusanagi nene, and aoyagi toya. no, they aren't dead. but they were badly injured during the previous war, making them useless in the battlefield. but now, they are instructors teaching new recruits, making them still close to the castle. meaning you could still see them from time to time.

lastly we have the one and only superstar, tenma tsukasa. being the kings first-born, everyone thought that he would inherit the throne, not some knight whose life could easily be taken away from them in a second. and to everyone's surprise, the king didn't even question him and let him do as he pleases.

if possible, you could talk about him everyday. he who makes everyone smile in the toughest times, he who fights for what's right, he who proves that he is not just the kings first-born, he who loves the country, he who loves his friends and fellow knights, he who loves his family, most importantly his dear sister, and he who (you hope) loves yo—

"[name]...? i hope you haven't passed out there! remember what the king did to you last time you did this!" oh.

"s-sorry mizuki! i got lost in my thoughts." you said as you quickly turned on the faucet, using the cold water to conceal your red face.

"hmm, it's not like you to get oh so lost in your thoughts." they said, stepping in your assigned bathroom with their hands behind their back and a teasing smile on their smile. "what's got you so lost? or rather whose got you so red? it's tsu— ?"

"shhh! can't you lower your voice? people might hear you!" you whisper-yelled as you slammed your hand into mizuki's mouth. "and it's not tsukasa! what makes you even think that?!"

"well..." they started, "you always look at him, you always smile at him, you always have this 'lovey dovey' face whenever you look at him, you get defensive when i acuse you of liking him..."

the lists goes on and on, it was so far that when they finished your face was reaching its boiling point. seeing mizuki's smug face, you couldn't help but turn away from them, rolling your eyes as you cool your hot face.

"i don't know mizuki, i think you're being delusional" you said still ignoring their curious eyes, and before you could hear their response a new voice joins the conversation.

"you know [last name], for once, i'm with akiyama here."

the blush that was starting to fade away quickly regain its color as your hear the sharp but quiet voice of shiho who was standing at the doorway. snapping your head at her direction, you quickly pulled her inside and locked the doors.

mizuki snickered at your panicked and defeated expression, with shiho's backup they knew that you won't be getting out the room without spilling your feelings.

"don't be so loud shiho! also, you can call us by our first names you know? calling me [last name] makes me feel so old." you said as your face regained its natural color, giving out a nervous and uneasy laugh your eyes darted across the room, not once looking at theirs.

"we know what your doing [name]" mizuki said, sharing a look with shiho who nodded. "it's either you tell us, or we'll tell them."

"so cruel... i never took you as someone whose into gossip shiho.."

shiho blushed and looked away, but she still didn't budge as she went to guarding the bathrooms door. looking defeated you just sighed and told them everything.

third person's pov

akito couldn't help but wonder what's gotten their 'ultra mega star' so down. in his perspective, tsukasa looked like a child who didn't get the toy that he wanted and was seconds away from throwing a tantrum. but akito could care less, he didn't want to get roped into whatever he was planning nor did he care if tsukasa was planning something.

so he asked him.

"what's gotten you in a grumpy mood?" akito asked, looking at his senior with a raised brow. tsukasa didn't bother giving him an answer (which irritated the ginger) as he continued to look at the direction where [name]'s assigned bathroom was located with furrowed brows.

connecting the dots together, akito released a sigh and rolled his eyes. pushing himself away the pillar he was leaning on, he slowly walked towards the bathroom. despite his thoughts about his senior, he couldn't help but respect him in different ways. he knew that tsukasa had given his all to every challenge in his life and he knew that he would never let anything happen to his comrades ever again.

tsukasa noticed where akito was going and immediately halted him.

"hey! don't tell me you're thinking of going to [names]'s bathroom? what are you, a creep?!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the empty halls making akito halt in his steps. he turned to look at the blond male, a disgusted and annoyed look printed on his face.

"huh?! what did you just say to me?!" akito yelled back. "and for the record, i was going to the kitchen! who knows how long they are staying and talking there. i'm getting hungry each second. if you don't believe me then you can come with."

and that's what tsukasa did. the two of them were quiet as they walk to the kitchen, with tsukasa sneaking some accusing stares at his junior and akito still having his annoyed look etched on his face. it was like that for minutes until they heard hushed whispers from the bathroom.

"...guess so..."

"that's so... [name]! who knew... had a thing for...!"

"...does that mean?! also... your voice down! help... shiho!"

curious, akito stopped infront of the bathroom and pressed his ears against its door to hear the conversation better.

appalled, tsukasa looked at him with wide eyes as he shaked his companions shoulder.

"what are you doing?!" the blond whisper-yelled, keeping his voice down to avoid getting caught "you're invading their privacy!"

sure tsukasa himself was curious on why his friends are in one bathroom and what they were talking about but he couldn't just go past his morals and listen in without them knowing. shaking his thoughts away, he began to scold akito again but he couldn't, not when—

"look, i'll say this once and never again. yes, i am in love with tsukasa tenma and no, i will not confess my feelings for him. got it?"

not when the world around him stopped moving, not when his eyes went wide and face turned red, not when his hands turned sweaty and tightened its hold on akito's shoulder, not when the latter looked at him with wide and shocked eyes.

not when the door they where leaning on slowly opened.

not when they had fallen to the floor and looking up to three pairs of shocked eyes.

not when he made eye contact, with the person who had just admitted their feelings for him.

and most importantly, not when they bolted out the room, teary-eyed.

tur ip ip ip

🗯 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍. .

• • 📁 how funny.. Y/N Forger left her country to accomplish a mission, next thing she knew, she was seeing her husband on a screen —  declaring that this woman.. was his wife… wait, his wife?!

• • 🖇 loid x fem!reader x daisuke — this fanfiction will not follow the sxf and fkbu plot line, there will be some canon stuff but nothing else!

• • 📂 taglist ; closed !

@syynnaaah @a-simp-for-haikyuu @gotbannedfrommykitchen @yaesflorist @lycheekirintea @tnu-ree @villainarc-2 @akazxii @achanyoungfan @sinspookie @sl0thsblog @freetobeafcknriot @dailymoodboards @pasta-warlord @1-800-s1ya @kaedear @ilovespideyyy @fuyuus @melkxsh @yumekos-gamble @hamcultivator @ittohavr @sammy-hammy @xxshinimakixx @riots-stuff @mirikusashes @chicha027 @childesbbyy @oh-honeyz @bloominthings @dr3amscap3 @battoddster @fiannee @yeahhemmings- @missbunsworld @lunalunapep @kreishin @cherriomilkmangos @lovinnoya @chikafujiarts @aikochan4859 @shrynkk @s-enku @kyomihann @cecistarsnatch @meguvmii @tinyegg @avsphroeg @evans-dejong

🗄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. .

• 🔍 TOP SECRET ; PROFILES

i. thorn princess

ii. long time no see

iii. back at the mansion

iv. bodyguard & a nanny?

v. where it all started

vi. a favor to ask

vii. a perfect family

viii. secret affair?

ix. to be added..

• • 📂 PSA !! this is in no way to hate on any character, it is fiction and for plot purposes only!

• • 📂 TW !! implied cheating, swearing, suggestive, mentions of blood, fighting, murder

• • 🗂 LAST UPDATED IN : 05/10/22

Traitor

Reiner Braun x f!reader

Summary: All the times Reiner found a home in you that he will never be able to return to again.

Warnings: angst, fluff, aot spoilers if you haven’t watched season four pt. 1?? cursing, panic attacks, Reiner’s self-deprication and poor mental health, suicidal ideation - Reiner’s, implied reader death but is it true? Me thinks not. Also in good me fashion, I haven’t proofread this teehee.

A/N: Season four Reiner had me in a chokehold.

wc: 9k+

aot mlist

God I wish you thought this through before I went and fell in love with you.

He didn’t think devils were supposed to be beautiful. Not when, for the majority of his life at least, he had pictured them to be vile and cruel monsters, with grotesque faces that snarled down upon him and his people — cursing them to deal with the consequences of the evil-doers actions. Those, only an ocean away, were grimly cackling at what was left of the Eldian’s sheltered in Liberio; the demons were howling so loudly at how his people failed to run away, instead choosing to take responsibility, that the force of their laughter was what pushed the wind inland, towards Marley. That is what everyone said to him as a young boy, anyway, and he figured it must’ve been the truth.

However, within the few years he spent hiding in the devil's den, he found that those scary stories weren't exactly true. At least not in present terms. What he was taught — ever since the early days of his life where he questioned why he had to wear an armband and why he wasn’t allowed to leave the walls — about the devils on the island was a lie.

He didn’t understand how history and all those lessons could be so wrong. These devils, who he had lived beside and shared smiles with, weren’t the ones he had been forced to learn about. It was a bitter truth he was certain of.

And sure, maybe the way they acted was questionable. Perhaps their customs and ways of living were a little strange and primitive, but when he turned the pages of a dictionary to look upon what would fall under the definition of ‘savage’ and ‘evil’ never did he see their faces underneath the printed words.

Because according to all those lessons and stories that had been drilled into his mind since birth, devils were not supposed to be kind, or caring, or funny, or beautiful… but you were.

You were beautiful in how you made his heart sing, his cheeks glow, and his body float. You were beautiful in how you were strong, in how you were attentive, and in how you were determined. You were beautiful — inside and out. So no, Reiner did not think you to be a devil; how could you be when every fiber of your being resembled that of an angel instead?

And he missed you, his angel, with every long, bleak day that dragged by.

“Say, Reiner, when are we going to finally meet the girl in your sketchbook?” His mother asks from across the table, and Reiner feels as though he was young, naive and in training again — the wind completely knocked out of him as he lands flat on his ass.

His tongue feels heavy and dry, as if he had swallowed buckets of sand -- God knows he had done plenty of that for the past few months -- a sensation that was unpleasant and choked him of every word he had.

Although it doesn’t distract him from the fact that his family were all looking at him expectantly. Everyone always looked at him like that and he despised it; big brother Reiner, so reliable, dependable, and always knowing what to do.

Naturally, he wonders how they have seen his sketchbook, the one hidden in his room and under his pillow; the one he constantly drew in out of fear of forgetting what you looked like. Why did his family know of its existence and more importantly, why did they know that a poorly sketched angel danced within the pages?

It was unfair how they thought it was ok to breach his privacy… but, considering how fragile his mind has been lately, he can somewhat understand his mother’s spying.

“Since when did you have a girlfriend, Reiner?” Mushed broccoli and potatoes sputter across the table as Gabi yells out, “you work all the time, I thought you were too busy?”

Fuck, he is busy; run down and beyond worn out. There are days where his limbs refuse to move and all he craves is a few extra minutes of pretending to be somewhere, anywhere, else.

The war in the east only made his suffering worse, with each devastating blow his body received, and as much as he was glad he was out of the line of fire, he still didn’t feel safe and at home. Not a soul would ever hear him admit that though, he didn’t deserve a second of pity for what he had done. This was his repentance.

His uncle scolds Gabi and yet she does not ease on her stare. In fact, none of them do, their eyes eagerly awaiting a response, still so expectant of him -- he wishes he could still look at himself with that much hope.

Reiner clears his throat amidst the noise, “what?”

“Oh, honey, don’t play coy with us” — his mother smiles — “it’s perfectly ok for you to have a crush.”

His brows furrowed further, restraining against correcting her because it was so much more than a crush. A crush was childish, a miniscule moment of affection, a simple spark compared to the all-consuming fire that burned in his heart for you. It was so much more than a crush.

“No, I am just curious as to how you found it,” he instead chooses to say.

“Oh, I was cleaning whilst you were away and it fell” — a lie, he knew that was a lie — “all the pages have the same girl in. She is beautiful, Reiner, don’t be shy, bring her over for dinner sometime.”

“No, uh, that won’t be possible. She’s not… she’s not available.” Reiner says, his words a solemn slew that seemed to reach the hearts of those across the table. He hates that pitying look.

Whilst his mother is right, you are beautiful — no, more than that, shit, he didn’t think there were enough words to describe how good you were — the truth is you hate him, most probably. No, most definitely. And whilst he stays up late at night imagining you, here, smiling with him at those around the dinner table, a ring shining proudly on your fourth finger soon to claim you as another Braun, he knows it all will remain just a naive dream to indulge in when the intrusive thoughts become too much.

You would probably try to kill him if you were to ever meet again… though at this point, time seems to be leaning towards when. He never thought he would dread seeing you but anything would be better than watching your eyes burn with hatred for him. Although, maybe dying by your hand would be ok; Reiner thinks that would be a good way to go, taken out by an angel, his angel. He would let you. The real question, however, was if he deserved such a merciful end.

His mother grimaces with her typical sad and old eyes that begged for something to remain of her only son once he passed on, “Oh… she’s in a relationship then?”

God, he hopes not.

“Yes.”

And that was that. Pitiful looks are shot his way, maybe a few simple apologies too -- even the bitter “well, there’s plenty of fish in the sea, Reiner,” as if anyone else could compare to you, as if he even had time to think of looking for someone else with his scheduled death right around the corner.

He didn’t care to listen as they moved back to talking about Gabi and the whole warrior program, his fork instead prodding at the food still on his plate. They move on and he sits there for the rest of the night with his tongue craving to speak your name, of how alive you made him feel. His family wouldn’t find it so easy to talk down on the island devils -- like they were now -- if they knew you; if they knew your kindness or your intelligence.

In some ways, Reiner comes to envy them slightly, the way his family remains so unaware of how truly ethereal life can be. Remaining oblivious means that they can continue going about their normal, bleak day, but not Reiner who merely survives knowing that there is a taste of sunshine out there he can no longer bask in.

Reiner? Why would you do this? Reiner, tell me you’re lying?

Violently, he jolts, the chair screaming loudly against the wood floor and amber eyes are panicked when all he sees are walls surrounding him along with those he betrayed. He could feel the wind whipping at his cheeks and the dull throbbing of his arm. He could remember the harsh yellow light that shadowed the pained look on your face.

How could you do this to us, Reiner? I thought you loved me?

No, not again, please not now, he begs. He didn’t want to hear your voice, not like that, not now. Chest heaving, he does anything but meet his family’s concerned gaze, grabbing at the shirt material over his heart as he harshly pants out, “I’m going to bed, I’m tired. Thank you for dinner.”

They don’t call after him as his footsteps roar against the stairs, they never do because they know better after four years of the same shit; he wouldn’t tell the truth, a rushed ‘I’m fine’ half-hazardly thrown over his trembling shoulder as he flees to his room. His heart thunders at a worrying pace, choking him with fierce regret.

He can’t breathe. Then he stumbles. Weak feet thudding against the wood floor, looking for the soft comfort of blankets. It’s hard to focus but he knows that he can’t breathe. Not as he falls against his bed, hand frantically searching under his pillows.

Reiner, I hate you.

No. Please don’t say that. I’m so sorry.

His aching fingers find leather. Gripping the book tightly as he opens the pages. He still can’t breathe. And it hurts. Even as he looks at your face printed in graphite on the pages of his sketchbook, it hurts. Fuck, it hurts so much -- missing you. He misses you so much. So, so much. The burning of his eyes makes his vision fuzzy, but he knows the paper is getting wet. He hopes he hasn’t obscured any of the details of your face, because what if he forgot? God, what if he forgot? He can’t forget you. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

His mind is screaming, his heart, his eyes. It is all so loud. Clutching his ears he sobs into his pillow, wails like the infant he is until he can no longer see, think or feel.

Yet, even as his body surrenders to sleep, he cannot escape that final pitiful howl that reverberates through the four walls of his room.

Let me see her again, please.

But he only does in his dreams.

+

If there was any way for him to die, Reiner didn’t think sunstroke would be it.

The mid-summer sun bore down intensely as it watched the soldiers that lined the dirt ditch. With him were maybe fifty trainees in total, if he had to make a rough guess. A sea of naive faces; children who didn’t know the meaning of what it was to fight, to sacrifice. It was easy to laugh at the stupidity of those he stood with — the fact that they truly thought they could stand a chance in battle. At least here, Reiner can see that the rest of his fight should be an easy one.

With that being said, he still couldn’t help the way his knees trembled. Only a small movement, barely noticeable to the normal eye, but he still felt it was obvious to those who knew what to look for. This was the lion's den, and ultimately, these were the evil bastards he would have to fight. Kill. Surrounding him from every side were past, current, and future soldiers, all worked to the bone for the name of a battle they were set to lose.

Although, despite how pitiful he saw them to be, Reiner was anxious. What if they figured him out? He knew it was an outrageous thought, hardly likely to actually happen. But, as Commander Shadis stands in front of him with his ugly teeth bared and demanding a name, Reiner cannot help but fear that the lion's jaws were about to snap down on his neck.

Golden eyes glared at him, daggers nearly piercing through his resolve. If anyone here could blow his cover, then this wrinkly bastard would be it.

Luckily -- Reiner never thought he would say this -- he had encountered far worse than Shadis in his relatively short lifetime. Training for years within the deadly observation of the Marleyan elite, had taught him what it meant to be a warrior. He didn’t struggle to introduce himself with a steeled face, no stutter or nervous shift in his eyes to be found. A warrior wouldn’t do either of those, and Reiner refused to be the exception. This was nothing compared to what he had done, and what he would do.

He refused to lose now, there had already been enough of that.

The Commander says nothing more to him, and Reiner steadily exhales through his nose in relief. He had passed, and now all he had to do was blend in. Blend in and kill these evil Eldian devils, for the sake of his home, for the sake of his people.

Shadis struts out of his line of sight, instead moving on to the person standing to his left. Curiosity gets the better of him as Reiner finds himself sneaking a small glimpse towards the next cadet, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N L/N, sir.”

Reiner’s eyes widened like dinner plates as he spotted you. He almost had half a mind to grasp at his heart with the way it betrayed him and stuttered in his chest.

Because fuck, you're pretty. Like, super fucking pretty.

Almost instinctively Reiner’s cheeks flare up against his will, no matter how much he tries to remind himself that you are a dirty island devil. A desperate attempt is made to remove his gaze from you, before you caught him staring, and yet, no matter how hard he tried to steer his gaze forward -- to look for Bertholdt or Annie’s reassurance amongst the crowd -- Reiner just couldn’t take his eyes off of you, as if you had bewitched him. He wouldn’t put it past you, considering what you were.

Although, he had to admit, staring at you was like staring at the sun; he knew that he shouldn’t, that he would only be burned by it, yet the call was practically irresistible.

He watched your lips move, unaware of the dopey grin on his face as they formed another slew of candied words, “from Shiganshina, sir.”

His smile drops. Nevermind.

Even if he wanted to, Reiner had no chance with the pretty girl whose hometown he had willingly destroyed. He couldn’t really picture dinner with your family going well. Shit, imagine that, sitting down and saying ‘hi, yes, I’m Reiner Braun and I’m the armored titan that forced you to give up everything you had.’

Sure, that would go over with no issues at all.

It was probably a good thing, Reiner sighed to himself as Commander Shadis moved on to the next cadet to interrogate, the heavy weight of his footsteps drowned out by the orchestra of crickets in the fields above. They weren’t here to make friends, Reiner would have to kill you when the time called for it. So, the thought of future dinner plans with you and your parents -- if they were even still alive after the mess he and Bertholdt made -- really was stupidity at its finest. Nothing will ever develop that far during his time here, he refused to house the disgusting thought.

Still, he can’t help the small quirk of his lips as he hears you mutter a baffled, “is she seriously eating a potato?”

And he most certainly didn’t mean to mumble back, “at least potato girl is taking one for the team; number one spot on the shit list. Makes it easier on us.”

It got a smile from you though, and shit, it really was like looking at the sun. Reiner quickly decided in that one moment, he loved your smile, and he was going to continue making sure it stayed on your pretty face…

Yeah, it’s most definitely a good thing Reiner wanted nothing to do with you…. Right?

+

“I’ll never get this,” you complained, flopping down against the grass with a loud huff.

Sweat dripped off his forehead as he fought to catch his breath. The fabric of his now slightly sheer button up uncomfortably clung to his skin and he thinks perhaps he should’ve chosen different attire for this.

“Yes, you will. Come on, just a little longer, you are already so much better than before.” He smiles as he sits down beside you, electricity enticing shivers throughout his body as your shoulders lightly brush.

The sun was setting, painting your face in a golden glow. It was almost funny how much he envied how the sun could so openly and confidently kiss you. Though, he knows he shouldn’t be thinking that; he shouldn’t want to give a devil affection, not when he now trekked the long road to repentance. Feelings towards you were no more than your evil heart casting webs in his mind. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to deny it, you looked beautiful. You always looked beautiful, even whilst covered in sweat and grass stains.

“You’re just saying that, Reiner. You’re one of the best at hand to hand combat so you have to be nice to me.”

“I don’t have to say anything, you are improving. Don’t disregard your progress. Besides, you are better than the rest of us with the ODM.” He says and bumps your shoulder. Though, he didn’t expect the force to send you flat on your back, his heart dropping to his stomach as he watched you do so. Apologies lined the tip of his tongue yet they were cut short as you unexpectedly laughed.

Your laugh was something he also quickly grew to love; a beautiful melody, so deeply enchanting like the chiming of wind. He had quickly found that whenever you laughed, his eyes would soon find you and refuse to leave. Especially in moments like this: the grass was your halo as you lay there and he wondered -- even as you fell to the ground so ungraciously -- if the color green had ever been prettier. No, probably not, he thinks with a flustered grin.

It is then that Reiner, as much as he envied it, also thanked the sun for concealing the red of his cheeks. If it hadn’t dusted the fields you both lay in within a golden glow, he was sure the fire behind his face would have been enough to light the whole world, sun be damned.

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he would do if you were to catch onto the fact that his blood was hot and racing around his body at a million miles per hour because of you. The friendship you had developed over the past two years of training was… remarkable. If anything threatened or imposed on it then, as much as he hated to admit, Reiner knew he would be devastated.

Instead, you both sit there, still trying to catch your breath from vigorous training in the summer heat, and watch the sun set behind roaring hills. The wind starts to cool and the birds stop their chirping in favor of listening to the crickets sing out from within the long strands of grass. It was as if Reiner was living within a dream, blissful and sweet like a person his age should.

“I used to be scared of you.” You say, eyes closed and smile wide. Your voice was nonchalant and yet he still frowns. The mere image of you being scared -- of him nonetheless -- unsettled his stomach, as if he had eaten a bad slab of meat.

Lightly grasping at his gut, Reiner realizes there that he never wanted you to be scared, especially of him, “why?”

Sitting up, your body leans against him and he isn’t sure whether it is subconscious or not but he doesn’t care, “well, you know… you’re big and strong and you kinda had that face that screams” -- you lower your voice and dramatically puff up your chest -- “I’m big and strong don’t fuck with me or I’ll kill you.”

If only you knew how true that statement was.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You do sound like that” -- you giggle, lightly swatting at his arm -- “but anyway you aren’t like that at all. You are basically just a huge ball of…” You pause then, eyes coated in a warm, far off haze and a faint smile on your face. Your head comes to rest against his shoulder as you wistfully sigh, “you are one of the nicest people I have ever met, Reiner Braun, and I’m so glad I met you.”

And in that one moment Reiner felt as though he had swallowed the sun. With only a few simple words you had lifted the weight of the world off his heavily burdened shoulders and instead placed a smile so large on his face. It was a smile put there because of you.

Truly, you had no idea of the power you wielded over him, and yet even if you did, Reiner knew you would never exploit it -- not that he would care if you did, he would still be proudly wearing the same old giddy smile he was now.

Confidently, he held your hand and a flurry of flowers bloomed within his chest. Reiner delighted in the size difference of your soft hands in comparison to his -- it always made him feel like he was made to be by your side -- softly playing with your fingers as if they were made of glass. He doesn’t think twice as he places a chaste kiss to the center of your palm and embraces the heat that licks at his heart. Your body shudders at the gesture causing his own to explode with fireworks… he hopes he gets the chance to show you them in the future.

“I’m glad I met you too.” He breathes, transfixed as you peer at him from behind fluttering eyelashes. He meant it, every single word.

Magnetized, you both get closer and closer and he feels hotter and hotter as you do. Your lips were all he could focus on, the mere thought of their sweet taste simply too divine to ignore. He hoped you couldn’t hear his heart thundering like that of a race horse in his chest. Though it would all be worth it when he finally gets to kiss you after so many months of longin-

“Reiner!”

But he doesn’t get the chance to kiss you like he desperately wished to, not when Bertholdt calls for him across the field. He wants to ignore him, wants to finally crash into you like a wave to the shore, like he had dreamed of for all these months, but no matter how many extra minutes he spent by your side nor how many times he glanced at your pretty lips, Bertholdt kept on calling his name like a broken record to which you break apart. Once again he was cold.

You huffed as you stood, offering him your hand, “I guess that’s our training done. We both know he won’t shut up if you don’t go, Reiner.”

He lets you pull him up, touch slightly lingering on your hand before finally drifting apart after his name is called once again. Reiner groans, “he has his timing and I’m going to strangle him.” A silent message that he doesn’t regret what was about to happen, he doesn’t want you to think of it as a mistake on his part.

Your laugh blesses his ears once more as Bertholdt's figure gets closer and closer. You hug him again, quick and warm, and his heart stutters at the unexpected affection. He hopes he adapts to it sooner rather than later.

“Then let me know when you are going to do it so we can both ring his neck and put my training to use,” you wink before you leave -- your silent, coded response to let him know that you didn’t regret it either -- before joining Mikasa, Armin and Eren with a loud cackle as you retreat.

Although he cannot reflect on your words nor the lingering tingle he feels shooting up his spine from your touch for long, not when Reiner is met with stern disappointment as Bertholdt frowns, “you are getting too attached, Reiner. You have to stop whatever you have with her.”

He pushes past his friend, his blood boiling,“I’m not getting attached, I’m just blending in.”

Bertholdt’s hand grips his shoulder, spinning Reiner to meet his eyes, and with hushed fury Bertholdt says, “Blending in doesn’t involve falling in love with someone, especially the enemy. Get it together Reiner, you know what the goal is.”

The weight is back on his shoulders and the world crushes his spirit once again. Bertholdt is right, Reiner shouldn’t be fond of you like he is. If this was left unchecked, to grow like the weed it was, then Reiner would surely fall in love, if he wasn’t already and that was dangerous…

But as you both walk away, back to back, he can’t help the way his heart yearns for your comfort.

He sighs, defeated, “yes, you are right. I’m sorry, Bertholdt.”

+

“When we graduate, what branch are you going to go to?” You whisper as you fiddle with his hands, tracing the shape of them lightly with your pointer finger.

You were both sitting on a roof, the night sky alive with millions of stars -- you like to think of them as fireflies, it made the nighttime seem not so lonely. There was a chilly breeze, one that sent goosebumps flaring up across your skin. He must have noticed because no more than a second later, he gently drew you into his arms.

It was hard not to fluster as you sat there against his chest. The sonorous beat of his heart made it hard to stay awake as your breath started to even out and eyes fluttered shut.

“Hmm, I always said the military police would be it for me but” -- you look up at him to see him already dazedly smiling down at you -- “I think I may reconsider depending on a few things.”

Smiling into the material of his shirt, you shake your head a little at the implication of his words, “well, if I told you I was going to join the Scouts, what effect would that have?”

It was well known amongst the 104th that after Shiganshina, you, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were going to the Survey Corps. There was no way you could forget the screaming and the blood that rained down upon the streets that you grew up in; no way you could erase the image of your family crushed by debris and eaten alive. Although, it was mainly due to Eren that you all decided to join, after all, the small group of you were all you had left.  There was no way you couldn’t follow, even if it meant your own demise would be met out there, though you tried not to think of that.

But to imagine that Reiner would give up his safety to join you out there… well, it made you feel like you mattered; cozy and complete.

Reiner chuckles, the sound rumbling deep within his chest, “I would tell you that I always thought I looked good in green.”

Your laugh echoes throughout the air as you lightly shove him, although he is quick to grab your arms and pull you back towards his chest. The two of you fall silent then, his hands gently gliding up and down your back as he blissfully sighs.

“You’re stuck with me,” he finally says, placing a familiar kiss to the crown of your head, “I don’t think I can leave your side, even if I wanted to.”

“Reiner,” you breathe, a gentle smile taking over your face, “I guess it’s a good thing for you that I never want you to leave me then.”

The arms around you squeeze a little tighter and you can hear the smile in his voice as he agrees, “yeah, that’s a good thing indeed.”

+

Eren had truly caught Reiner off guard. The way he harshly grabbed him and pulled him into a shadowed corner between two cabins with a glare that had never once been directed towards anyone other than Jean.

“You like y/n, right?” Is what he says, and the question causes Reiner to choke on his spit. He had only wanted to go to sleep, the day was tiring and the food had only pushed him further towards exhaustion. However, he still made sure you walked back to your cabin safely, even if there was no need for him too — you both knew he did it just so he could spend an extra few minutes with you. Reiner only wanted to sleep, but it seemed that Eren wanted to pick a fight instead.

Coughing, he hits his chest a few times before croaking, “uh, what?”

Eren rolls his eyes before scoffing, “I’m not stupid, Reiner. You like her, it is written clear as day over your stupid face.”

Reiner had never considered his feelings for you to be embarrassing, no, they were quite beautiful actually; equated to a field of flowers or a roaring sunset. Although, being forcefully confronted about his liking towards you was another matter, right now it felt as though he had been punched in the gut.

Sighing, he sees no other choice but to give in to Eren’s probing stare, bashfully whispering, “I think I more than like her at this point, Eren.”

It’s quiet between the two for a while, awkward and tense. The silence causes Reiner to shift uncomfortably on his feet, looking anywhere but the green eyes of the boy before him. No one would have expected a sight like this: Reiner cowering at the sight of a maniac like Eren Jaeger, it was almost funny.

However, that soon ends when Eren sighs, placing a hand on Reiner’s shoulder and awkwardly mumbling, “if you hurt her, I’ll kill you Reiner.” That was all the younger boy — one of the only people important enough to be considered family by you — said before quickly turning on his feet and walking back towards their shared quarters.

And as Reiner watched Eren kick a few rocks as he left, he smiled because he knew that was as close to a blessing he was ever going to get. Somehow, that little threat, well, it meant the world to him.

For a moment he forgot about who he truly was, because in that second he was excited for what a future by your side entailed. It was a shame Reiner was who he was, because fuck did that future look utterly divine.

+

They had done it, Bertholdt and him.

They had easily broken through another wall and let carnage descend upon Trost. Many were already dead and more about to join the fallen. All that was left after Rose was Sina, and once that final barrier was destroyed the mission would be complete. They could go home. After so long in this hellhole they could finally leave and be heroes. He should be joyous, excited, thrilled. Yet, Reiner couldn’t understand why instead his mind flooded with panic; refusing to leave your side for even a second since he had joined you all.

You were a spectacle, that was to be sure. Graceful but deadly as you danced through the air and sliced every titan unfortunate enough to stumble into your path.

If Marley had a warrior like you, then fuck, this mission would have been so much easier. Marcel would probably still be here and enemy nations would be nothing but rubble beneath your feet. Marley didn’t have you though… and you were an enemy. Reiner tried his best to remember that.

“There are too many, shit,” you seethe, a murderous glint lining your eyes, “I don’t have much gas left, fuck, fucking damnit it to fucking hell.”

Unfortunately, you were correct. All of you -- him, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Annie, Bertholdt, Armin, Marco and a few others -- were practically running on fumes by this point, with no shelter and far too many meat headed bastards littering the street, picking people off one-by-one. HQ was plagued with titans and supplies were looking to be unoptional for the foreseeable future. They had already lost a large number of friends during this battle -- including Eren, which he knew hit you hard despite how calm you tried to remain -- and it was only a matter of time before someone else joined the rest of the corpses lining the titan’s bellies.

So, as much as Reiner refused to believe it, with the way things were looking, you were going to die. He couldn’t risk transforming to save anyone, even you. Not that he should, because the mission will always come first. He just hoped he didn’t have to watch as your blood stained the streets below, your body torn apart and crunching under the force of a titan’s jaw.

You're pacing back and forth now, hands pulling at the skin of your face as the shock begins to set in. Shivering hands are easy to spot, and it is even easier to conclude that the action likely isn’t caused by the rain. Marco tries his best to comfort you from his spot by Reiner’s side, but you are completely unresponsive to him; muttering wildly under your breath as you continue shakily stumbling across the rooftop. This is grief, Reiner recognizes, grief and acceptance of your death.

“Hey,” he grabs your arms as he watches you tear up, “we’ll get out of this ok? We aren’t dying today. I’ll make sure of it.”

No one else around him says anything. He is, of course, aware of Bertholdt and Annie’s burning stare focused on the back of his head but he tries not to fixate on it. Instead he chooses to concentrate on the smallest movements and changes in your face, awaiting the moment you finally break.

“He’s gone, Reiner,” your voice is wobbly, so uncharacteristically gloomy, and it pulls hard at his heart, “my best friend is- he’s dead, just like..” Just like your family is what you’re going to say but choke before you could even begin to form a single syllable. Armin had broken the news to you through a slew of tears -- you hadn’t reacted then, too caught up in the current situation. He was eaten by a damn titan with only an arm left of him, shit, what an awful way to go. Eren didn’t deserve that.

Reiner’s thumbs quickly wipe away the tears that fall, and he quickly pulls you into a tight embrace. This wasn’t the place or time, he knew that comfort was the last thing he should be offering right now but… but you needed it. Reiner wasn’t completely fucking heartless.

Soft hushes escape his lips as he lightly rocks you back and forth, “I know, and I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

This was his fault, your pain, your anguish. He did this, he was guilty.

Sniffling, you slowly pull back from where he held you to his chest. You smile at him, a tragic thing that doesn’t reach your eyes and he has half a mind to think that he may have preferred it when you cried, at least then he didn’t have to see you force being ok for him. You shouldn’t have to comfort him in a moment like this. You should let yourself grieve and not force a mask of solace to ease the harsh frown on his face, because you always knew how much he liked your smile. God, you were such an angel.

Lightly patting his chest, your voice is completely exhausted as you utter, “don’t apologize, Reiner, this isn’t your fault.”

But it is, it is all his fault, he thinks as he brings you into another hug. Wincing against the top of your head, he silently begs for your forgiveness because he hurt you, he hurt your family, he hurt your friends, and he is so, so fucking sorry.

Reiner has ruined your life and yet here you stand, nuzzling into him as if he were deserving of such tender affection. You had no clue of the crimes he had committed… Just like Reiner doesn’t know if the wetness on his cheeks is from the rain or his building regret.

+

“Have you seen, y/n?” Reiner asks as he finishes bandaging Armin’s head.

His body ached slightly, nothing he wasn’t prepared for or wouldn’t heal from, and thus something that became a second thought in comparison to the anxieties that were slithering in his head. He was thankful that the small, little group had found shelter beneath the trees. The heat was messing with his brain, it made him see all kinds of things and think all kinds of thoughts. The sweat practically dripped from his forehead like a leaky tap, he felt disgusting, and he really hoped you had a spare handkerchief on you for him to use. He smiled slightly at the thought, you were always prepared when it came to stuff like that.

Jean stops whistling as both he and Armin shoot anxious glances at each other, and Reiner’s smile falls. Their mutual hesitation does nothing to settle the sinking of his gut, nor does it quell the boiling of his blood. Although Reiner was a patient guy -- he had to be in order to keep a cool head, to lead like he had promised his fellow soldiers -- the longer their shared silence continued the shorter his fuse got. Images of you being torn apart, eaten, scared, trampled, screaming for someone, for him, to save you plagued his mind.

Broken and bloodied, the idea of you in that state became nothing but clearer in his mind the longer they allowed the silence to tick by. Nausea overwhelmed him as he could practically smell the iron-y scent and taste the bitter copper tang. Shit, what if you got mixed up in this mess? What if you encountered the female titan?

Annie… she wouldn’t kill you, right? There was no way, you were both friends, surely she would take mercy upon you…

He prayed to whatever God there was that she was sympathetic towards you, towards him.

“Well? Have you seen her?” He snaps, far harsher than he should but he cannot bring himself to utter an apology, not if he didn’t know whether you were ok or not.

The land was open for miles, only the grass and bordering trees could be observed from the acres of fields. Yet, Reiners eyes didn’t once stop inspecting the area around him, silent pleas screaming to see you riding towards him and diving within the safety of his arms. Only, there was nothing there. You weren’t there.

Armin stutters slightly before finally and timidly uttering, “no, Reiner. We haven’t, but-”

What did that mean? What did that mean? What did it mean?

“Damnit,” he seethes and desperately tries to withhold the tears that were prodding at his eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from hunching over as if struck, hands on his knees as the acidic taste of bile washed his tongue.

“She was stationed on the right wing…” He chokes and the air is tense as he watches both his comrades tense.

“Maybe she is fine, Reiner. She is tough, you know that from training and… Trost. Besides, we need to figure out how we are getting out of here first.” Jean speaks between piercing whistles.

The noise was infuriating. A constant high-pitch ringing that battered his brain with excess noise that overwhelmed his every sense. Reiner truly wanted to scream at Jean that his stupid horse wasn’t coming back, to cut that shit out incase more titans come. Fuck, he wanted to claw at everything and anything around him; rip his ears off, punch a tree, something to get rid of all this stress.You were out there somewhere, possibly fighting for your life, and he was standing here doing fuck-all.

Of course, whilst the what ifs would continue to flood his mind in a constant taunting loop, he knew his anger towards Jean was stupid and heavily irrational; not an act a soldier should be engaging with. After all, emotions do not save lives when it comes to missions, in fact they make them deadlier. So, as much as Reiner is appalled by the suggestion because there was no way he could prioritize his escape when you could be out there in need of help, he supposes he can’t help you if he is dead.

Sighing, Reiner stands straight before finally stating what he knew the three had been thinking since their encounter with the female titan, “no, you’re right Jean. Anyway we look at it, one of us has got to stay here. We need to figure out who.”

He couldn’t afford to stay behind. Whilst he could ultimately survive out here, there was no way he would be able to look for yo- to finish his mission if he were assumed dead. Although, he didn’t exactly feel comfortable leaving Jean or Armin behind either -- especially Armin, you would be devastated if anything were to happen to the blond.

However, that doesn’t make anything easier. Someone has to stay behind, and Reiner doesn’t want to play a part in choosing who.

“Wait a second” -- Armin protests before coming to a wobbly stand -- “shouldn’t we fire a signal? If everyone kept going straight then the final row should be in close proximity by now,” he reasons.

It was a valid option, something that wouldn’t hurt to try. After all, what could really be worse than this?

The three look between themselves before Jean retrieves a canister from his satchel with a sigh. Loading the emergency flare into the gun, Jean fires it into the air, and the three watch it paint the sky. Reiner watches it travel, and as much as he knows safety is unlikely, he really hopes someone sees the purple smoke. A naive part of him hopes you see it too.

“There we go, but I highly doubt someone is going to see that and think someone is in need of a horse,” Jean laments, walking off to once again whistle for his missing horse.

“We stay here three minutes tops, Armin. After that, we are making the decision.” Reiners' words hang heavy in the air.

“Wait, someone is coming.” Jean interrupts.

Jean wasn’t wrong, someone was coming, emerging from the fields of red and green. The world had taken pity upon the three wounded soldiers and sent them, him, a guardian angel… because there you were, riding full speed towards them.

Reiner doesn’t realize he is running until he is right before you, a blinding grin on his face. “Are you ok?” He asks, grabbing your hand.

There were no visible wounds to you, at least not ones he could spot as he frantically inspected you for the nth time within the short seconds you had arrived. Your eyes were slightly watery and your brows furrowed far more than he would like them to be, but you seemed fine. He was so fucking glad you were fine.

In that moment he wanted, needed, to kiss you, though really he had wanted to do that for a long time, knowing you were safe and ok convinced him to finally admit his fond feelings.

“I should be asking you that.” You exclaim, squeezing his hand before bringing it to rest on his cheek, “are you all ok?”

Reiner nuzzles into your palm, a subconscious movement, and places a sweet kiss to the center of your palm, a habit he had picked up within your presence.

The boys behind him are thanking you, he can hear the desperate sounds of relief floating through the air. No one would be left behind because you had seen their call for help and you had brought them horses, Jean’s as well. You really were an angel.

He hears you cry out from above as you fling yourself down from your horse, “oh my God, Armin, your head!”

Within seconds Armin’s face is cupped gently within your hands, a nasty, green feeling settling in Reiners gut. Your fingers lightly trace the bandage covering his forehead, relieved to find that the bleeding had stopped a while ago and no longer seeped through the white material. Although, it was a battle for Reiner to contain the urge to pull you away, to hug you again and ward Armin off with a glare; ugly possessiveness rearing its head at the sight of the two of you. He clicks his tongue in frustration, more than aware that feeling this way wasn’t fair -- you both are just friends, he reminds himself, nothing more.

But as you turn back round to face him, striding over and gripping him tight within your embrace, he can’t help but indulge in the fact that you never hugged anyone like this, nor did you ever place a gentle kiss to their cheek like you are doing right now.

Since when did anyone under the terms ‘just friends’ act like this?

You pull back, only a little bit, but when you whisper the sacred words, “you don’t know how devastated I would’ve been if anything had happened to you,” he feels as though he is complete.

Reiner only feels it right to respond with a light kiss to the crown of your head, and against the warm skin he smiles, “oh, I’m pretty sure I know.”

+

“Reiner?” He hears your shaky voice mumble, the weak sound prompting him to quickly turn around. Within the shadows of the cold Survey Corps hallways, he can still make out the tear stains on your cheeks.

He races towards you, only a few short steps, but a distance traveled as fast as he humanly could. Grasping your face gently within the comforting, protective hold of his calloused hands, his thumb traces over the watery paths, his own eyes burgeoning with tears as he rasps, “hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Hazel eyes are quick to analyze every minute detail of your body, looking for scrapes, or blood, or bruising, or-

He jumps when you cup his face, similar to how he does you -- gentle and loving. Beneath your hands he can feel his cheeks burn, as if your skin were a match and he was gasoline. You pull his head down towards you, a gentle tug that is futile to resist, and as your foreheads rest against each other you confidently say, “Reiner, I love you.”

For a moment, he truly believes he misheard you. In his broken, twisted mind, there was no way you could love him back. You deserved the world and all its treasures, so why would you ever decide to settle for a man like him instead? He was broken, evil, and a murderer. Selfishly, he couldn’t find it in himself to tell you that, selfishly, because he had wanted for so long to hear those sweet words tumble from your mouth.

At his silence, he watches your face wince, panicking as if you truly believed he hadn’t been obsessed with you since day one, “I just had to tell you, after the last expedition and hearing you almost died, I- I just-”

“Say- say that again,” he smiles, eyes watering.

You smile back, “I love you, Reiner.”

“Again.”

“I love you, Reiner.”

He whispers, “again.”

“Reiner,” you groan, throwing your head back with a roll of your eyes.

Although, he doesn’t give you much time to complain. Instead he laughs brightly, louder than he had in years, picking you up and holding you close as he spins you around, “I love you too. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

The words easily fall from his lips, bursting like water through a broken dam. He would say them over and over again, millions upon millions of times if that is what you needed, wanted. Reiner loves you, he loves you, and is certain that for the rest of his life -- a life not long enough -- he will continue to love only you. How could he not?

You were perfect in every definition of the word, a perfect blend of kindness, determination, strength, and empathy, all drizzled with the sweetest layer of honey. Loving you was easy, Reiner found. He doesn’t believe he could ever regret such a beautiful thing.

Then he catches it, through the dizzying spins he catches a glimpse of your smile -- a smile he still adores to this day. It begs him to end the years worth of pining, longing for your lips on his. Your smile, a smile he has loved since he first lay his hazel eyes upon it, hardly needed to do much convincing.

After years of waiting, as he places your giggling self back to the ground, he finally gets to kiss you like he wanted that late afternoon in the field. He kissed you to convey all those millions of words he could not say; kissed you to show how long he had desired to love you; he kissed you like it would be your last…

Funny really, considering that when a scout came to collect Reiner, and only Reiner, a minute later to venture off somewhere down South, that single moment truly would be your last shred of shared happiness until you both rejoined on that wall after the events of Utgard Castle. Before Reiner finally and fully broke both of your hearts.

If he had known, he wouldn’t have left.

+

“So, you’re telling me… Reiner and Bertholdt are…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, your throat burning under the acidic taste of bile.

You couldn’t believe it, how could you? Reiner? A traitor? No, Armin had to have this whole thing wrong. Reiner had been nothing but kind, and sweet, and loving. A traitor wouldn’t care as much as Reiner did, a traitor would never show you love like the one you had known with him. If everyone could maybe just listen, maybe they would understand how good Reiner was.

Because he bandaged your scrapes and kissed them better. He protected you from titans when Trost fell. He helped you improve with self-defense when it seemed like a hopeless task. He told you stories when you couldn’t sleep, even if he was so tired all he wanted to do was pass out. Those weren’t the actions of a bad person. So maybe, if they just listened to you, they would see that Reiner Braun could never, ever be a traitor… right?

Collapsing to your knees, tears singe your eyes red. It seemed Eren was also having a hard time with this. Denial pouring out of his mouth faster than the tears escaped your eyes. The more Armin spoke, the more he explained everything, as much as she tried to drown everything out, the more it made sense… and you hated yourself for it.

If Reiner was the traitor… the armoured titan like they believed then that meant… that mean he murdered your family… Eren’s family… everyone’s family.

Oh God. He… he killed them.

Bringing a hand to your mouth with a gasp, you gag at the thought that you had fallen in love with the man who ruined your life. All the times you wept in his arms, sobbing about what you saw that day… he knew the entire time.

He knew what he did to you, and yet… oh God.

A hoarse voice echoes throughout the room, it belongs to you, as you numbly say, “if Reiner is a traitor” — you gasp, sniffling as the sobs threaten to break free — “I will kill him.”

It was a promise. You would, even if the thought of his blood staining your hands shattered what was left of your heart. If Reiner was the traitor, you would kill him… you had to… you hoped you had the strength to at least.

Although something deep inside you whispered that you didn’t.

+

It was dark, damp and putrid within the basement walls, thick layers of mold crusting over the beige stone. Water dripped from the ceiling with a slow yet incessant pace, similar to that of a ticking clock -- the continuous sound was a taunting reminder that time was quickly running towards its end. So much was happening, so much to be processed. He truly felt as though he had finally gone insane. After all, it was only a matter of time until he did; the breakdowns, nights of plagued dreams, the thoughts of craving death. This was bound to happen, yet he was terrified at how real it all was. Could it be that this was actually happening? He never thought he would hope so, but that seemed far better than the other option, that this was all real.

Falco remained shaking against the wall, silently gasping in shock. Reiner wished he could reassure the boy, tell him that this wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what sending those letters meant, he didn’t know that the supposed injured man he was trying to help was the enemy from overseas. Reiner so desperately wanted to tell Falco everything he needed to hear, but the words were stuck behind the lump in his throat. He burned with an unholy fire, tears singing his skin as he begged Eren for forgiveness that he knew he didn’t deserve. His knees were beginning to hurt as they dug into the stone ground, the material of his pants growing wet the longer he bowed.

Reiner babbled like the infant he is, words an incoherent slew of snot and tears. He was just a kid too, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. Eren had to understand that he really didn’t want to hurt him, hurt his friends, hurt you.

How could you do this to me, Reiner? I loved you.

God, he was sorry. So, so sorry. He didn’t want any of this to happen, not anymore. You had to understand that, right? You had to know he never wanted to hurt you, that he didn’t think of you as a devil like everyone else here did. Not when he knew you to be better than anyone who walked this pitiful world.

“You want to know how she is, right?” Eren’s voice is a monotone drawl, all hints of the once familiar fight that lit his bright eyes was gone. This person, this man, sat before Reiner was a stranger; the vacant shell of an old friend turned enemy. Maybe this was one of the consequences of his betrayal, and Reiner wonders how many of the others are like this too. He ignores the voice murmuring in the back of his head that he had made you into one of these numb soldiers, that his betrayal shattered you for good.

Even so, Eren is not wrong. Reiner craved to know every detail about you, for the past four years all he wanted was you. The medals, the praise, the recognition, to hell with all of it -- you and your beautiful smile was all he needed. It was the air which he was desperate to breathe.

Nodding his head, fast and vigorous, he brings his palms together and prays to hear your name. He wants Eren to describe everything: how you had changed and how you had stayed the same. Was your favorite color still that of the blue sky? Did you still always drink a cup of tea before walking around the fragrant fields? Were your eyes still vibrant and full of stars? Did you smile whenever you thought of him? Reiner knows he still smiled when he thought of you.

“Reiner,” Eren says, looking down upon his trembling form. There was a weak pause, full of tension that detained his airways in a vice grip. Reiner sits up, quivering beneath Eren’s detached gaze.

“She’s dead.”

He was shot. Reiner didn’t see a gun but Eren must’ve had one. There was no other way to describe how his flesh felt as though it had ripped in two, the way his lungs were suffocated and choked, the way his body went into a painful shock. Finally breaking down, Reiner screams, at least he thinks he does with how his throat ignites in furious ache; He wouldn’t know of the dreaded noise he unleashed within the cold walls -- like a wounded animal cornered and about to die -- because Reiner cannot hear anything beyond the shattering of his chest.

Refusal was all he had, complete and utter denial for the vile words that slithered from Eren’s lips. He shakes his head back and forth, a fast paced movement that causes his brain to rattle painfully within his skull. You couldn’t be dead. Eren was lying. Reiner had heard you, with the group, with Jean and Hange as they detained him. He had heard you, seen you, protected you. You couldn’t be gone, not you, anyone else but you. No, this had to be another nightmare. A lie he had no choice but to suffer through for how he had sinned.

“You’re lying, Eren” -- he gasps, like he had been submerged under water for far too long and now he finally breached the surface for precious air -- “Why would you say that? She’s not dead. She can’t be. Please, Eren, tell me you’re lying.”

The green-eyed boy glared down at Reiner’s trembling form, lips slightly curled into a vicious snarl. It was the first hint of emotion that had been seen on Eren since the beginning of this interaction, and Reiner shivers at the intensity, “you have no right to cry after what you did, Reiner. You have no right to ask of her, not after what you did.”

Pitiful whimpers echo throughout the walls, “I love her, Eren. I swear, I love her.” The defeated words repeat over and over again like a broken record, in hopes that eventually he would get Eren to understand that his feelings for you had never been a lie.

His skin prickles as Falco’s concerned, or perhaps curious, gaze falls on what’s left of Reiner. He knows what questions the young boy wants to ask, he knows that Falco wants to know who you are. How was Reiner supposed to say that this was your best friend, here to bring the dreadful news that you, his soulmate, was dead? Falco wouldn’t be able to understand how Reiner fell in love with a ‘devil’ nor would he ever know just how easy you made falling to be.

“I suppose that is one of the many ways we are alike,” Eren stands before grasping Reiners hand with an iron clad hold. It was just enough to gain the fleeting remnants of Reiners attention as Eren continues, “we both have lost people we love… to you.”

To… me? Had he heard Eren right? Did that mean he had… Did he kill you?

You’re killing me Reiner, how could you do this?

“How?” Reiner croaks, he couldn’t understand it, he couldn’t understand what Eren was saying. Reiner needed to know, he desperately needed to know.

But Eren ignores him, doesn’t offer any closure or solace, only the familiar words of a monster, “I told you what would happen if you hurt her didn’t I?” — Reiner gasps at the haunting, far off voice of his resurfacing memories ‘if you hurt her, Reiner, I’ll kill you — “and just so you know, I will keep moving forward” — Eren’s grip on Reiner’s hand tightens, a painful constrictor refusing to let its prey flee. Amber eyes widen as Eren’s begins to glow, and within the split second of time he has, Reiner tries to rush towards Falco before it is too late — “until I exterminate my enemy.”

You killed everyone I loved. You’re a murderer, a traitor. I hate you, Reiner. I hate you.

Reiner once upon a time thought the island devils across the sea were the most vile and cruel of creatures to walk this earth, but when a bright light followed and as he felt the burning heat scorch his skin, Reiner understood that the cruelest of monsters had been him all along.

And as he falls with the ghost of your name on his lips, Reiner truly wished he was dead too.

Maybe then he could finally feel safe and at home once more.

me on my way back to paradis after reiner shows me that wall maria isn’t the only thing he can plow into

brine jean kirschtein/reader (AOT) word count: 1.5k tags: hurt/comfort, jean being the best most sweetest boy, just an extremely self indulgent piece if i'm being honest, tw: implied mental illness/distress

"Wanna go to the beach tomorrow?"

"What's the occasion?" It's the same thing he always asks, and has as long as you've known him, no matter what you're proposing. The same thing he'd respond to the proposition to go to the grocery store on a Wednesday afternoon.

You take comfort in that familiarity.

You clear your throat, voice a little thick as you reply: "I just don't really wanna be alone right now."

Jean doesn't need you to say anything else.

He doesn't need you to apologize for the fact it's been days since he's heard from you.

He doesn't need to ask if you're okay.

And so the next day, even though it's far from summer and way too cold to properly enjoy the sun and sand of a beach, the two of you load into his car and make the forty-five minute drive to the coast.

You listen to music along the way, playlists you took great pride in crafting when you'd felt a little less blue, and the familiar songs and sound of Jean humming along to his favourites from his place behind the wheel slowly helps you feel better, if only a little bit.

You stop at a gas station to buy some snacks and drinks which you pack away into your beat-up little backpack, keeping out only a package of salty pretzels and bottle of soda to share between the two of you while you finish the drive.

The beach is grey when you get there. Fog hovering over the water about a mile off shore; cold, briny mist hanging in the air and kissing your cheeks as the two of you settle down into the sand. You can taste the salt on your lips as your tongue peeks out to moisten them--though that could be leftover from the pretzels.

Jean brought blankets to sit on, grabbing them from the trunk before he locked his car, and even a few more to wrap around yourselves-- having anticipated the less than ideal climate.

You sit in silence for a long time, listening to the waves rush up the shore.

"You've been quiet."

He doesn't just mean today. You know that. You've been absent for the past week or so, emotionally distant even longer than that. It had been days since you'd responded to anyone's text or calls.

You were just in one of your moods.

It happened sometimes, as much as you loathed it. Like something in you just stopped working, failed to cooperate with you no matter how desperately you wanted it to. Synapses failing to fire.

"I know," you reply softly to his comment.

He doesn't tell you he's been worried. The way his eyes have been scanning your face when he thinks you don't notice from the very moment you slumped into his passenger's seat has already given that away.

Heat burns behind your eyes, a familiar tightness in your throat.

You draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them with your warm blanket draped around your shoulders.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, I know this happens sometimes," he tells you, gentle yet firm in his resolve.

"I hate it," your voice breaks halfway through the words. "I hate feeling like this-"

You watch a big wave swell a few metres out from the shore.

"-I hate not feeling like myself. I hate not being able to take care of my shit. I hate not knowing how to reply to text messages-"

The wind cools the hot tears as they track down your cheeks.

"-I hate feeling like people hate me."

Jean's arm winds itself around your shoulders, sidling up beside you on the blanket. Warm and solid and there at your side.

As ever.

"No one could ever hate you."

"Connie might," you snort, but the sound is wet with tears, "I have 432 missed texts from him."

You pull your phone from the pocket of your hoodie and pass it over to Jean. He unlocks it with your passcode that he's long memorized, wincing when he sees the number of red notifications dotted across your home screen. He taps his way across the device, handing it back to you after a moment.

When you look again all of the notifications have been cleared.

You feel a little better.

"They're just checking in. They all care about you, 's all," Jean uses the corner of his blanket to wipe at the tears clinging to your cheeks. You slump into his side.

"I miss them."

"I think they'd like to hear you say that."

"I just don't know how to reach out."

You never do, when you get like this. Scared to break the silence that you'd created between you and all of the people that you loved.

"It's fucking freezing!"

A familiar voice has your head snapping towards the stairs leading down to the beach from the parking lot.

A handful of faces you recognize are rapidly approaching, arms laden with blankets and cold winter beach day accessories.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

Connie flops down onto your blanket the minute he reaches you, kicking up sand along the way.

"God what a shit day to wanna come to the beach--lemme in there," he says, prying his way under your blanket, nestling himself into your warmth.

"Fuck Jean, that text couldn't have come at a better time, I've had to piss for like 25 minutes," Eren says, helping Mikasa spread another blanket out across from yours while Armin weighs the edges down with rocks he'd found laying about.

"Nasty," Jean replies with a curl of his lip.

"He kept saying he was gonna pee in a bottle if you didn't tell us we could come out soon," Connie chirps, head poking up from where it had been resting on your shoulder. "I bet him 15 bucks he wouldn't."

"Please tell me you didn't," you say warily, looking up at Eren with wide eyes.

He grins. "Nah, went in the bushes on the way down."

"Stay away from my food with your nasty piss hands, dumbass." Jean bats Eren's arm away as he reaches for a bag of chips that rests in front of you.

"Oh, I have sanitizer," Armin says helpfully, reaching for the bag he has strapped across his chest, producing a small bottle from its contents.

Sasha plops down on the other side of Connie, peeking over at you. She has orange dust crusted on the tips of her fingers and around her lips from the cheesy snack she's eating.

"Wan'some?" she asks, holding a (borderline industrial sized) plastic jar of cheese balls towards you, already half-eaten.

You nod, picking out a handful for yourself.

"We brought stuff for a bonfire, do you think it's too damp to get it going?" Mikasa asks, staring out at the fog rolling in as the ends of her short hair lift with the breeze.

"Oh, I can get it going," Eren says confidently, pulling a lighter from the pocket of his sweatpants and flicking it on.

"Eren," the dark haired girl sighs, "don't you remember what happened last time?"

Last time meaning the time he'd burned off half of his own eyebrow trying to light a fire to celebrate your high school graduation so many moons ago.

"Yeah, the spock brow was not your best look," Connie chimes in, waggling his finger at his brows demonstrably.

You choke on a laugh.

After numerous assurances that he would not lose any hair in the process, Eren, Connie and Armin set to work building a modest bonfire a few paces away.

You curl into Jean's side, one blanket now wrapped around you both, burying your face into the collar of his hoodie. He smells like clean laundry, the salt air, and the same cologne he's worn since you bought him a bottle of it for Christmas years prior.

"Thank you," you say quietly as you listen to the dulcet tones of Eren and Connie bickering about log placement while Armin tries his best to mediate between them.

Jean's arm tightens around your shoulders, drawing you even further into his warmth.

He doesn't need you to say it though.

He sees the gratefulness in the way your shoulders have eased.

The way your eyes shine when the boys finally get the fire to spark to life, cheering exuberantly at their own success.

He hears it in your quiet giggles as you watch Sasha and Mikasa squabble playfully over the last handful of cheeseballs.

Feels it as you go slack against his side, the sky long gone dark, your chest rising and falling with a sleep that comes easier to you than any had for weeks.

This is what the occasion is.

And it's a great one, at that.