Katsuki X Reader Where You Almost Die?

clingy, kinda soft bakugou <3 no pronouns are mentioned!

it's late.

in fact, at this hour of the night, bakugou katsuki would be in bed, peacefully resting his body to prepare for another day of pro-heroing.

or rather, that should be what he's doing. instead, he's dragging his sore, tired self out of bed to find wherever you could be that's not in his arms. he's dearly missed the warmth that came from the other side of the mattress, which you occupied.

footsteps softly trudging along the planks of your home, bakugou discovers you in the kitchen, sitting at the island with your laptop underneath a singular, dim light source that hung over your head. the bluelight glasses that accompanied your face illuminated the screen of the laptop, and in his delirium, the blond notices that you're typing away on some sort of document.

he huffs, hoping that it would capture your attention... but to no avail, and bakugou is absolutely flabbergasted. how could you ignore him?

what could be more important than your lover that just wanted your attention to come to bed?

he tries over and over again, and it's not until bakugou coughs that he finally captures your attention, unfortunately for his impatience.

"you scared me," you sighed, hand going over your heart, "what's up?"

"come to bed, doofus," he grumbles, walking over to where you sat and draping himself over your body freely. you ignore him as if there's no problem, pretending as if there isn't some muscular hero splayed across your back, placing most of his weight onto you.

you continue typing away, irking bakugou to no end, "i'm almost done. go back to sleep without me, i'll be there soon."

"it's 3am."

"and?"

"and you're not where you're supposed to be, which is sleeping beside me."

a laugh filters through bakugou's ears, and he looks at you with an inquisitive stare, "katsuki, you have work tomorrow. go rest."

"and you have to visit me tomorrow on your day off, and i refuse to talk to your tired-ass that should've listened to me."

that's a lie. bakugou would do anything for you, regardless of whatever state you're in, because even though it seems like he hates taking care of you, but he's always at your beck and call regardless of the teasing he endures from you.

"wow, you really do care about me," you muttered, pretending to act touched as bakugou rolls his eyes, moving his arms to wrap firmly around your waist.

"as if. i just can't sleep without ya there. 'tis all," he grumbles through his teeth, "i don't care about your health."

a smile adorns your face. it's so obvious he's lying, judging by the way he's pressing his face against your shoulder and holding you tightly against him.

you fuel the fire, "and you wonder why i'm not going to bed."

"y/n," he groans, borderline whining.

"bakugou," you mimic, not tearing your eyes from the laptop screen.

"you can't pull out the last name on me, you little shit!"

"i can do whatever i want, bakugou katsuki."

"if you don't get up and come to bed in peace, i am going to resort to violence."

"please don't blow up the house again-"

in an instant, you're being picked up effortlessly and bakugou is carrying you out of the kitchen, shutting your laptop lid and turning off the lights simultaneously, before bringing you to your shared bedroom.

he throws you on the bed in an undignified manner and climbs in not too long after, pushing you down by leaning most of his weight on your body. the ironic part is that he carefully plucks your glasses off your face, gently putting them on the nightstand before flopping back over you, arms wrapped securely around your middle

bakugou sighs contently, melting into your warmth completely when your hands have found their home in his ruffled hair. he shifts his leg to rest over your hips, making sure that you couldn't escape as he continues basking in his paradise.

you almost want to scold him but you know that bakugou does this for you because he knows it's what is best for you. when you forget to take care of yourself and succumb to the feeling of never having motivation, he'll always be there to pull you back.

he's corrected multiple of your deprecating habits; such as going to bed late by forcing you to sleep when he does since he can't sleep without you. on the contrary, you've softened his edges a little, showing the explosive blond what it's like to be able to rely on someone else for a change.

as much of a pain in the ass bakugou was, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"i lovb youu, shtupid," he whispers against your neck, muffled. "shay it back."

a small laugh echoes through the space, "i love you too, katsuki."

"good, now go to shleep, or i will be mad."

"goodnight."

"goodnight."

and as rough as bakugou katsuki could be, he always made you feel loved, even in the darkness of your bedroom with him laying half on top of you.

Head empty just Oikawa

HELPING HAIKYUU BOYS WITH THIER INSECURITIES

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#Genre: Fluff, Reverse comfort, slight angst

#Includes: Osamu, Ushijima.

#Warnings: Just going to be talking about body and self image issues/ insecurities.

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OSAMU

Osamu had never really cared too much about how he looked until recently. He was busy, too busy some would say. His days were spent taking care of and managing his restaurant which left little to no time to do anything else, including working out or taking care of himself. Now he wasn’t out of shape by any means but the lack of attention to his body had made him become a little…soft. Once hard muscle and toned limbs morphed into softer and rounder curves that were new to him, it was different and he didn’t know if it was a good different.

He found himself stood in front of a mirror shirtless and just observing his body. His hands ran across the expanse of his softer but still firm chest and now slightly rounded belly that was adorned with a layer of fat. He couldn’t help but compare himself to his twin brother. The plethora of shirtless pictures Atsumu posted reminded Osamu of his past or more so past physique and he couldn’t help but think if he’d look like that if he spent more time taking care of himself.

The feeling of you wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your cheek against his back broke him out of his daze. “Hey… what were you doing?” You asked softy. He softy shook his head,“nothing, don’t worry about it baby” “talk to me Samu I can tell when there’s something wrong”.

He let out a tired sigh while continuing to look at himself “I… I just don’t know if I like..what I see anymore” you scrunched your eyebrows in confusion and as if Osamu could read your mind he continued, “I don’t look the way I used to anymore, I’m not strong and built and I can’t help but compare myself to Tsumu, wouldn’t you rather be with someone like that?”. You let out a laugh of disbelief, “Tsumu…really babe?” “You know what I mean”. You poked your head from behind his back so he could see your face in the mirror, arms still tightly wound around his front.

“Baby…you may not look like how you used to but that isn’t a bad thing. People change and grow everyday and I’d be surprised if you still looked like that” “but-” “ahh let me finish. Firstly, Tsumu looks like that because it’s his job! Secondly, just because you’re now a little softer - which I love- doesn’t mean you aren’t strong, personally I think you’re stronger” you smirk at him which gets you a chuckle. “Theres that smile! I love you Osamu, no matter what you look like and that’s not going to change. But I’ll support you no matter what and if there’s even a tiny part of you that’s insecure because of what I might think then shut that shit down real quick. You’re so fucking hot and sexy, especially like this. Look at this strong chest and these thick arms that make me feel so safe and loved” you say as you run your hands across his chest and up his arms while littering his back with kisses. You feel him slightly shiver under your touch and turn to face you. He brings his face close you yours and brushes your nose with his “thanks baby, that means a lot, a lot more than you think” “I’m just letting you know the truth” you whisper against his lips.

And while Osamu’s insecurities may have not completely left, your words definitely helped.

USHIJIMA

Ushijima wasn’t one to take peoples negative words into account. He brushed of harsh comments and negative criticisms like it was nothing, especially when it came to him and how he portrayed himself. He knows he doesn’t look as welcoming as his other teammates and he was okay with that, looking friendly and happy wasn’t part of his job description so why would he change anything? He walked around with a stoic face accompanied by monotone expressions without a care.

At this point he’s heard it all. He’s been told to ‘smile more’ or had it explained to him that he looks scary and serious all the time. It never occurred to him that he was unapproachable though, what people deemed his ‘scary’ and ‘stoic’ face was just his…face and he was confused about why he should change that, would people like him more? Come up to him more?

However, the one persons opinion he valued was yours. He never wanted you to think he was scary or unapproachable and hoped you didn’t see him that way and for the most part he believed you didn’t. But there was a small part of his brain that convinced him that you believed what the others thought, that he should smile more. With contrasting personalities it wasn’t hard to believe that, while you happily wore a smile on your face, he stuck out like a sore thumb next to you. A part of him thought you deserved someone more like yourself, someone who looked content as they stood by your side but he refused to let that happen. Because no matter how much he believed you deserved better he wanted that better to be him. He doesn’t want to let you go because he does love you and he is happy when he’s with you even if he can’t show it, so if changing the way he acts means being better, then he’ll do it… for you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked as you glanced up from your phone. Ushijima sat on the opposite end of the couch and wore an expression of…discomfort? You didn’t know it was hard to tell. “Like what?” He got out. “Are you uncomfortable or something? You look like you’re in pain” you chuckled out. You didn’t think your teasing remark would effect him but as you watched his face drop and usual frown return, you thought you may have said the wrong thing. “It’s nothing” he sighed out. “Hey I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? What’s going on love”. You watch as he briefly looks away and then looks at the ground as he mumbles out “I was trying to smile at you”. You squinted your eyes as you drawled out “whyy…?”

“I don’t want you to think that I’m not happy with you because I am and it’s come to my attention that maybe I should start showing you more”

“Who put that idea in your head?” You asked with shock. Since when was your Toshi someone who worried about stuff like this. You didn’t think you gave him any impression that would imply you’re not happy with him or how he acts. You slowly realised that maybe this was a deeper issue than he let on and wanted to reassure him as quickly as possible. You crawled over to his side of the couch and sat in his lap, his hands automatically going to rest on your waist. You gently placed your hands on his cheeks and turned him to meet your eyes “look at me baby. I’ve never thought that, not even once. I don’t need you to smile at me and act happy 24/7 for me to know you like being with me” you say as you move one hand to run through his hair. He softly stokes your sides as he stares intently at you, making sure he doesn’t miss a word. “You wanna know a secret?” You smirk. He briefly nods his head and urges you to continue, “You have tells Mr Wakatoshi, they’re your eyes. I don’t need to see a smile on your face to know you’re happy baby becuse your eyes tell me, and that’s all that matters” you slowly lean in as you whisper your next words “plus I love that I’m the only one that gets to see and experience your rare smiles” and with those words he can’t help himself as he reveals one of those said smiles.

You lean in and place a peck on his lips and lean back, watching as he follows you for more. “Plus I think your ‘serious face’ is hot” you casually mention, He definitely can’t stop the laugh that makes its way out because god does he love you, you always know just what to say. “Yeah? You thinks it’s hot” “Mmh, very” “fuck smiling then” and that get you joining him in his laughter. He quickly realises it was stupid to ever doubt you because of course you’d know he loves you, you know things about him that no one else would be able to figure out in decades.

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Note: So this was new ! Never really written anything like this before so hopefully it’s okay.

;)

© property of simpforanyanimeguywithdarkhair

• jealousy makes you blind, but a brick can, too

Imagine arguing with Ushijima Wakatoshi.

The universe knows this man is very stubborn, honest, logical, and dense. A deadly combination because of how frustrating it would be trying to explain to him why you’re mad about something petty. It’s the perfect recipe to make you feel like a villain when you get mad at him for being too polite with his fans, especially ones who don’t know the definition of personal space or when he leaves the TV remote on the couch where you can’t, for the love of god, find it.

“Deep breaths,” you mutter under your breath. The grip you had on the counter tightens, tears pricking at your eyes as you try to take deep calming breaths. It’s been two hours since you went home from the dinner party thrown by the Adlers team, and a glance at the clock says its 3 in the morning, but sleep was elusive, your body buzzing with the vile jealousy slowly burning on your stomach.

With that thought, the events earlier came flashing back in your head, finally causing tears to fall freely from your eyes.

Keep reading

pt. 1 | pls i had to continue it

word count: 2.2k

cw: angst, so much angst. with a happy ending though

It seemed impossible to just forget. Forget about the warmth you felt when Kuroo would glance over his shoulder to check on you when you were out in a group and he was walking ahead with some of his friends. Forget about the speeding heart rate when he’d put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he teased you or pointed at some building you used to get dinner at in your sophomore year.

You tried to fill your mind with distractions anyway and forced yourself to stop replying to his messages as soon as you saw them. But it hurt. Pushing him away like that, seeing his profile picture pop up less often in your notifications as he seemed to get the hint, understand that you needed space.

Your chest tightened and ached when he asked you how you were holding up, his picture grinning up at you mischievously, which you had always found so damn cute. You were smiling back at it without realizing and chastising yourself when you did notice.

Kuroo changed his profile picture then, his face no longer there and you felt your stomach drop at that. It stung in particular when a new message popped up in your notifications that read, ‘wanna talk to me?’

You knew it had been a matter of time before he wanted answers from you, an explanation for the cold shoulder you were giving him. Thinking your attempt to get over him might’ve been obvious.

“There you are.”

He looked different, worn out somehow. It was the first thing you noticed when you approached him in the cold evening air, his back resting against his car as he pocketed his phone without another glance at it.

Slight dark circles were beginning to show underneath his eyes and the thick, black strands of his hair were pointing at various directions, all messy and disheveled—just like in your freshman year when he didn’t even bother to get rid of his ridiculous bedhead yet. A wave of nostalgia flooded right through you at the sight.

“I was starting to think you hated me.”

Kuroo smiled at you, a little shy and uneasy and you couldn’t blame him. It was you who had started to reach out less, after all. Like you were mad at him. That stupid crush you had was your problem, yet you only hurt him in the process of getting over it.

What a friend you were, best friend no less. You were a fraud.

“No one could ever hate you.” And you meant it. He was a good person, caring and loving, albeit a bit annoying. Yet that ambitious, honest side of him was admirable and attractive, automatically causing you forgive him for teasing you so often.

“Eh,” Kuroo shrugged and a more genuine grin eased into his face. It relaxed you, corner of your lips pulling up as your chest began to feel lighter, warmer.

Gosh, you’d missed him so much.

He seemed to share your thoughts because he reached for you with an arm, nodding you over with that smirk of his that made you want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

“Get over here then.”

Why wouldn’t you? He was your best friend, after all. The person you were closest to, who you trusted the most.

You let yourself get pulled into an embrace with a choked laugh, and relief and guilt washed over you simultaneously. He held you close, arms wrapped around your shoulders and chin resting atop your head—like he always did when you needed comforting.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on now?” Kuroo tried to seem nonchalant in the way he asked, looking up at the steadily darkening sky, but you knew him well enough to assume he was feeling as nervous as you were. Maybe even scared of the things you’d say. You were, anyway.

You didn’t even know what you could say. Hadn’t you tried to save your friendship by working on getting rid of your feelings for him? Didn’t he already know after what happened last time you were out at night?

“Don’t you already know?” You grumbled out loud then and felt him huff in amusement.

“Dummy,” he grinned and loosened his grip on you, allowing you to step away from him with downcast eyes. “How am I supposed to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours if you won’t talk to me?”

Oh.

No, don’t say things like that so casually.

Your chest tightened and you began to feel that familiar lump form in your throat.

“I can’t just say it, though,” you breathed, fogging up the air as you crossed your arms, starting to feel the cold creep into your skin. “It’ll change everything.”

Kuroo didn’t respond right away, merely let out a breath and turned to lean against his car again. He folded his arms over the roof, chin rested on the crook of his arm. The erratic throb of your heart made it difficult to meet his hazel eyes that were undoubtedly peering up at you.

“Is change really that bad?”

—hm?

“Yes it is,” you retorted, risking a glance at him with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s scary.”

But he merely shrugged, playful smirk forming on his lips as if to say, ‘so what?’ It felt natural to fight the urge to bump your fist into his side because he was starting to get smart with you.

“Haven’t things changed already?”

You turned around with a huff and mimicked the way he leaned over his car. It was easy to ignore the way your elbows touched in the process and you forced yourself to hold his gaze this time. Careful anticipation evident in it.

Were you able to express the very same thoughts and feelings you had been trying to get rid of the last few weeks? As a sigh eased out of you, you realized that maybe you weren’t and the wild hammering of your heart didn’t help you in any way. But Kuroo just smiled at you, encouraging and gentle. He would never pressure you to just come out with it.

“I’ve been trying to get over someone,” you whispered then, averting your eyes after all. You became hyper aware of the pounding in your chest and felt like hiding your face in your folded arms but he stopped you. His hand reached out to you, fingers grasping your arm and your eyes flitted to his.

“Someone..?”

“You,” you breathed, and there it was. A half-assed confession because you were tired of feeling this way, like your lives had come to a halt because of these dumb feelings. You knew they weren’t reciprocated, not with him continuously trying to set you up with all kinds of people, finding entertainment in the way you’d get flustered around them. ..when it was really him that had made you react like that.

Kuroo didn’t say anything for a while and his gaze had lowered to your arms, to the spot he was grasping you loosely. There was a slight crease between his brows and you felt your blood drain from your face at the sight. You knew it.

“You know,” he began suddenly, as if sensing that you were about to shut off, “I had a feeling that it was something like that.”

Your mind was spinning. Something like that. It was no use, you had to mentally prepare yourself to not seem too bothered when he’d tell you he didn’t see you like that. That you were just a friend to him, however dear.

“And it got me thinking.” Kuroo paused, and you held your breath.

His eyes settled on you once more as a gentle smile rested on his lips and you felt your mouth go dry, heartbeat uncontrollable in your chest.

“I realized that I’d get real sad if you kept pushing me away.”

“But you don’t see me that way,” you finished for him, a bit hastily, eyes lowered on his smile, throat tightening with another lump as you nodded. “Got it.”

Of course he didn’t. He was good to you, caring and attentive, as a good friend should be. But that didn’t mean he owed you anything beyond that. Which is why you didn’t want to pursue it, knowing that it was hopeless either way.

Why ruin a good friendship over some stupid feelings?

“Uh no, that’s.. not true.”

His face was out of focus when you looked up at him, tears clouding your sight as you stared, incomprehension apparent. Because.. what the hell?

Kuroo instinctively moved closer at the sight of your watering eyes and his hand on your arm twitched, wanting to reach up but he held back.

“You’re so damn confusing,” you half laughed, half sniffled, shaking your head. Your fingers felt cold against your skin as you wiped the tears away, still trying to comprehend what he’d said. “If you tell me you feel the same I’m gonna kick you.”

Obviously, you were joking. But then you noticed Kuroo cocking an eyebrow, accompanying the smile that made him just so.. annoyingly irresistible.

He couldn’t possibly..

“What if I showed you, then?”

He couldn’t.. right?

You didn’t move away when he inched closer slowly, your heart thrumming intensely against your rib cage. He raised a hand to brush his knuckles over the skin of your cheek, a delicate touch, fingers grasping and reaching forward to get a gentle hold of the back of your head.

“I often thought about doing this,” he breathed, your foreheads nearly touching, “whenever it was just us and you’d look at me like that.” His gaze was locked onto your lips, trailing the curve of them with the thumb of his other hand, your breath hot against his fingers.

“Why have you never—?”

“Was overthinking,” he tapped your forehead with his index finger, “just like you.”

He was kidding, right?

Though the way he gently tipped your head back to meet him in a soft kiss told you otherwise. It felt unreal, your nerves blanking as you grasped his jacket, fingers clutching the fabric desperately.

There was a small noise at the back of your throat when he moved his lips against yours with purpose, savoring you. You could barely feel your legs, your own weight suddenly too much. Gasps leaving your mouth as his hand guided your face closer to him, feeling his breath hot on your skin when his other arm wrapped around your waist to hold you tight, keep you from just slumping down.

You still couldn’t believe it. Your heart was racing, your mind spinning, your breath hitching. Leaning every emotion you got into the kiss you didn’t feel the tears until your lungs squeezed out a sob, surprising the both of you.

Kuroo separated from you in an instant, confusion and worry clear in his expression, looking like you had actually kicked him. But you threw your arms around his neck before he could say anything.

“Wha—” You hugged him tightly then and buried your face into the crook of his neck with another sob you couldn’t help.

“I’m so happy,” you exhaled. But your inner self was in disarray—happiness, relief, confusion mixing together. His touch was comforting and you felt yourself relax as one arm reached around your form to hug you back, hold you close. It didn’t feel so strange, as if it was always meant to be like this. To simply hold you and wait for you to release all those emotions you had bottled up for who knows how long.

Kuroo had been scared of change as well, truth be told. That tiny voice in his head had warned him from following his instincts whenever he held you close, with you staring up at him like nothing else mattered. No one else. The voice telling him not to ruin this connection he felt with you. It could end so badly, after all. The two of you could end up like his parents, and he would end up losing you—you, sweet you.

When you started to detach yourself from him, it felt scarily real.

He didn’t like not having you around, even if just temporarily. Didn’t like not being part of your life when another difficulty plagued your mind, because he wanted to be there for you, just as you’d always been there for him.

Being with you, really being with you, wasn’t guaranteed to be easy but it’s all he’d subconsciously thought about the last few years with you. Whenever he invited you to go on trips with him or when you tagged along to Kenma’s and he’d watch you interact with him. Making him think that he needed to keep you around.

“Wanna come inside? It’s cold out here.”

You peeked up at him like that again, and he felt his heart swell up at the expression on your face. Teary eyed and sniffling, but smile stretching your lips like he hadn’t seen in weeks. It made him giddy and excited and in order to not grin too much he slipped a hand underneath your shirt, pinching your skin teasingly.

“Yeah.”

@ sakuroo. please do not modify, copy, repost or claim as your own. ꒰ reblogs appreciated! ꒱

Kuroo Tetsurou knows how to tie a tie. He wore one every day of high school, after all. It's not a difficult skill to master. Truthfully, he could probably do it in his sleep.

But, all those years ago, you offered so sweetly. It wasn't hard for him to say, sheepishly, "Sure. I'm not too good with these things."

Ever since, it's one of the most cherished parts of his morning routine. He watches as you hold up random ties from his collection, eying them thoughtfully before making your selection. You stand so close to him, your gentle fingers turning up his collar and looping the tie around his neck. He can smell your shampoo, feel the warmth of your skin. Your fingertips brush the sensitive skin of his neck as you make the knot, sending tiny thrills of electricity through him each time.

"There," You always say as you smooth his collar down, "Perfect." You give the knot one final tug, and it's a familiar signal. He closes the gap, pressing a kiss to your lips as you finally let go of the tie.

"Thanks, babe," He always murmurs against your lips before he pulls away.

You always grin. "Have a good day, today."

He thinks he's done well, all these years, hiding the truth from you. His one harmless fib.

It's his cousin's wedding. He's surprised to learn how many of the groomsmen really don't know how to tie a tie. He's going around the room, tying one tie after another, when he hears a familiar voice just inside the door. Freezing halfway though the final one, he slowly turns, caught in the act. You're crossing the room before he can even begin to feel foolish.

"I always knew, you know," You say simply, a teasing smile making your eyes dance. You tug the tie draped loosely around his own neck, the one he'd been saving for last. "Need a little help with that?"

As you carefully tie the tie for him, then tug him down for a sweet kiss, he thinks he might be falling in love with you all over again.

(part 2)

[4:03 am] - IWAIZUMI

Someone’s knocking on the door at an obnoxiously fast pace. It rings in your ears as your eyelids crack open. You twist in your sheets to check the time on your phone.

4:03 am.

Your eyebrows knit together in annoyance as you stuff your face in a pillow, deciding to ignore the knocking.

A couple of minutes go by.

It doesn’t stop.

Sitting up in your bed, you try to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you stumble out of your sheets and shuffle towards the door.

Sleep and tiredness still lingered in thoughts as you looked into the peephole.

A sharp breath of air enters your lungs, you’re wide awake now.

A familiar ache began to return to your chest and you’re unsure if your heart’s heavy with dread or hope. You stare at the closed door in front of you, the knocking has stopped but you didn’t need to check to know that he was still there.

With shaky hands, you reach for the door handle and slowly turn it open. The harsh glow emitting from the white lights in the lobby made you wince as your vision readjusted itself.

He’s standing before you, taller, more defined and skin tanner than you remembered.

You gulp thickly, unsure of what to say or do in this situation. It’s been a little bit over a year since iwaizumi left you for California, leaving you to pick up the remnants of your broken heart, alone. You can’t exactly trace back to when his love for you began to lag behind his love for volleyball.

Nevertheless, you had supported him. Excusing missed dinner after dinner, excusing the lack of ‘i love yous’ and goodnight kisses and excusing the empty space in your bed. You had supported him until you simply couldn’t anymore. The night you had finally announced your grievances was the night he announced that he would be leaving for California and the night he walked out of your door with a tear-stained face.

One year later and here he is again, fists clenched to his sides and chest tight as if he’s holding his breath. You open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it.

“It wasn’t worth it,”

You blink and a couple of beats pass in silence so he continues as if to fill in the blanks.

“California,” he pauses, “it wasn’t worth it,”

Your eyebrows knit together as a result of multiple emotions, primarily anger and confusion.

“What?” it comes out on edge and he winces slightly.

He visibly takes in a deep breath and there’s a slight tremble in his lower lip, “California wasn’t worth leaving you,”

There’s a pause, “volleyball wasn’t worth leaving you.”

Your eyes blow wide and a lump begins to build its way up your throat. The feeling of an old wound reopening consumes you.

You want to ask why but your voice fails you.

You want to ask so many questions but your voice fails you.

Your breathing stutters, he notices as you grit your teeth. You shift your gaze from the floor to him and he visibly swallows.

The look you give him is a pained one. A mix of anger and hurt.

“Why now?” you pause, “why after all this time?”

He doesn’t answer your question though, “I never stopped loving you,”

Your heart drops to your stomach at the time wasted wallowing in heartbreak, at the time wasted sobbing in your bed and at the time wasted missing him.

You bury the face in your hands, “stop,” you whisper and it makes his heart twist horribly in his chest.

He tentatively reaches for the hands hiding your face and gently moves them away.

You let him.

His eyes are glassy when you look at him and that’s when you notice the backpack resting by his feet. He answers your question for you.

“I came here straight from the airport,” he whispers sheepishly.

You blink, “why did you come back?”

Your heartbeat accelerates as the words leave your tongue and as he responds, he looks at ease as if a weight was released off of his shoulders.

“For you,”

Your eyes begin to turn glassy as you nibble at your lower lip, a part of you wants to tell him to get out, to go back to California and spare you the heartache but the wiser part of you knows that deep down that isn’t what you want.

His eyes are soft as he looks at you. Glassy, tired but soft and there’s a familiar glint in his eye.

A glint that meant taking you to brunch and feathering you with kisses, a glint you never thought you’d see again. A glint that meant ‘i love you’.

So you decide to take a leap of faith and move a step closer and so does he.

It’s 4 am in the morning, the sun isn’t out yet and your neighbours are asleep. You have work in a couple of hours and you’re in a crinkled shirt that plops over your entire figure. You’re sure you look like a disaster, hair all over the place but iwaizumi doesn’t seem to care as you pull him in by the collar of his shirt, pressing his lips against yours.

“I never stopped loving you either.”

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ONLY FOOLS FALL FOR YOU. ( alhaitham x reader )

╰┈➤ some feelings came to haunt you after ten years since the last time you saw him.

pairings — alhaitham x fem!reader.

warnings — rivals / enemies to lover ish, slow burn, reader and alhaitham are in their middle twenties, reader has a pyro vision and is also a dancer and actress, reader is also the daughter of a genshin character, angst and a bit of fluff (happy ending of course but they're idiots in love).

word count — 8.1k

notes — june is back with another long fic for genshin! this one was supposed to be posted ages ago but i only had the time to do it now. i hope you guys will enjoy! reblogs and feedbacks are appreacited <3

lesser lord kusanali was a forbidden matter in your house, but you were sure she was the one who pushed you to be what you were today. 

being the daughter of the newest sage in sumeru had its perks, but you hated it. you hated the expectations everyone put on yourself, of how you should follow in your father’s footsteps and join the akademiya — everyone was sure you already had your vacancy there, with how important your father became in such a few moments after his promotion as a sage. but you never cared for scholar subjects, not in the way your two childhood friends did. 

alhaitham and kaveh had different interests, but they could enroll in the akademiya with no problem, because their line of study was actually respected by the sages and other scholars. yours, on the other hand, was looked down on and made fun of by every single one of your father’s, and him too, friends. as much as you tried not to look crestfallen when you heard them talking about the performers of the grand bazaar, alhaitham’s hand always managed to find yours when he was present in such gatherings — and you hoped that, when he wasn’t around, nobody would notice the change in your behavior. 

the arts were what called you: music, dancing, acting.

you could see yourself becoming a performer at the grand bazaar, dancing and acting for the honor of the dendro archon. the applause and excited screams of the audience were what you wanted to pursue, and not false wishes and the quietness of the akademiya. you thrived when alhaitham and kaveh, albeit forced by you, watched your makeshift plays about the archons and the dances you created in your head. you were aware they pitied you — kaveh with his dreams of being an architect and alhaitham’s love for all kinds of knowledge were much more suitable for sumeru city than your passions for the arts. 

that’s why you never expected them to support you in your decision of going against your father’s wishes to join the akademiya, and running away to the grand bazaar to join a theater troupe at the age of fifteen, inspired by a dream you had with the archon of your nation. 

it has been almost ten years, but you still remembered your father’s harsh words as if it had happened just yesterday — of how much of a disappointment you were for the family, how he would be able to explain to his peers and your future master that you decided to throw away the bright future it has been given to you, how ungrateful you were and how other people wished they were on your shoes. your mother remained quiet the whole time, but you never expected her support, too. she always agreed with everything your father used to say, almost brainwashed by the luxuries he displayed in front of her. in a way, she was, and the disappointed looks on their faces weren’t hurtful or a surprise for you. 

although, what hurt the most was alhaitham’s reaction. 

you had feelings from him ever since you knew what romantic love was, but they could never blossom into something more now, that you planned to run away from your home and probably never see your friends and family again. 

kaveh was aware of this too, being your confidant and best friend, trying to persuade you to not give up on everything — alhaitham and the akademiya, but you couldn’t pretend happiness in doing something you hated just because of feelings you didn’t even know if it was reciprocated. if alhaitham really liked you, he would respect your wishes and want your happiness before anything else.

it seemed like he didn’t, having the same reaction as your father — but his words were the ones who brought you to tears, his voice harsher and colder than you’ve ever heard growing up at his side, breaking your heart and cutting your skin like the blade he used to train. you almost gave up on your convictions and stayed in your home and went to the akademiya like your father wished, just to see him looking down at you with anything but the hatred dancing in his eyes. 

but you could not. not when lesser lord kusanali appeared to you in a dream, only to tell you to follow your dreams. you could not turn your back against your god and not do what she wished — she was the god of wisdom, and you trusted her judgment. 

and that’s why you turned your back to him, running away from your feelings for him and burying them in the deepest part of your heart. though, from time to time, you wondered what happened to him — did he and kaveh become scholars and follow their dreams just like yourself? how was the akademiya treating them? were they happy? had alhaitham found someone he loved more than his books? 

you knew such an answer would break your heart even more, but the agony of not knowing was much more worse. 

the grand bazaar welcomed you as if you were a lost daughter returning home after many years, and the zubayr theater became your new family. you were finally at the place you were destined to be, doing what you loved — captivating the audience with your movements and expression, bringing the toughest of men to his knees in broken sobs by your performances. the stage for you was like the library to the scholars of the akademiya, and you learned more and more every day you performed. 

you weren't alone there, having the company of nilou, your fellow dancer and actress who shared the same passion for the arts and love for the dendro archon, and, despite the age difference between the both of you, you two become fast friends — more than friends you came to notice one day, because the younger girl became like a little sister to you in just a few months of knowing each other. and you couldn’t be happier by following the words of lesser lord kusanali, thanking her every day for whispering her wisdom for you in your dreams. 

your days were spent rehearsing and performing, sometimes helping the merchants in the grand bazaar and planning more and more plays with your peers of the zubayr theater. it was like an act of resistance, almost, the performances you did — the people of sumeru were fond of the troupe’s plays, especially the children, and seeing the disapproval looks of the scholars were your fuel to not stop. 

it was supposed to be one of those days for you. a dance performance was scheduled in the treasures street, always buzzing with people due to its stalls and merchants, but today was different — you received the intel that a bunch of scholars would be wandering the area, probably for a case study of whatever the akademiya was planning. it was the perfect opportunity to show those arrogant scholars at least a glimpse of the wonders of the performing arts, and you couldn’t help but dress like greater lord rukkhadevata was described in the records you remembered reading as a child, just to spite the scholars even more.

probably for a case study of whatever the akademiya was planning. it was the perfect opportunity to show those arrogant scholars at least a glimpse of the wonders of the performing arts, and you couldn’t help but dress like greater lord rukkhadevata was described in the records you remembered reading as a child, just to spite the scholars even more. 

you winked at your musician, a teenage boy who held the same spite for the akademiya you did, starting your movements as soon as the sounds of the flute reached your ears. the flowing white sleeves and your long white and green skirt created a beautiful sight alongside the choreography nilou helped you to come up with, and the crowd’s cheers and boos didn’t reach your ears. whenever you were dancing, the outside world was shut down, your senses completely enveloped by the surrounding music. you moved as if you were made of water, a delicacy never seen before in the way your body spins. 

your eyes were kept close, as you didn’t wish for an unpleasant view to take your focus away. performing in the open was more difficult than in the grand bazaar — people there, at least, were also enjoyers of the arts. however, you couldn’t just ignore the call to show more people how the arts were a form of wisdom, too. 

the music ended, as well as your dance, and you bowed gracefully while opening your eyes to scan the crowd, the boos louder than anything else. but what was supposed to be a swift escape from the scholars and a few guards your vision managed to spot, was cut by a strong hold in your arm, dragging you away from your makeshift stage. too shocked to do anything else, you let yourself be pulled away from the crowd of scholars, their screams now louder that you were in the middle of them.

“take away this scum from our city, scribe!” 

your eyes, that were cast down to your feet, widened at such words. scribe was the title your father had before he became a sage, and, even though it didn’t make sense being him the one who was dragging you, your heart still raced with fear. though, when you had enough courage to look properly at your captor when you were a few meters away from the scholars, it was someone who you never thought of seeing again. 

those blue eyes, shining with the same rage it shone years ago, still haunted your dreams whenever you closed your eyes. 

“let go of me, alhaitham!” you managed to say, besides the lump in your throat. 

it was strange to see him, almost ten years after you left your house. alhaitham changed, of course — he was taller and more muscular, and his face was more sharp than it was before, now the face of an adult rather than a teenager’s one. his hair remained the same almost, only a bit shorter, but his eyes were still the ones you remembered from your childhood. you never forgot the exact shade of blue of them, of how the colors merged to create his pupils. they were mesmerizing, but it seemed that they would never look down at you with love on them once more.

“what were you thinking, y/n?” his voice was quiet but demanding, yet he didn't lose his composure, acting as if the rage in his words was nothing. “dancing in front of a crowd of people who hate the arts?” his grip on your arm tightened, and you couldn't find the same comfort you did as a teenager in his presence. 

you were angry, far angrier than you originally thought you would be if you saw him again, and sad — even though your heart still beat only for him. “i would have escaped, scribe. like i always did.” venom laced his new title, something so familiar yet foreign. it didn't suit him. he wasn't supposed to follow in your father's footsteps, as if he had replaced his own daughter with her friend. “i had a plan that was ruined by you.”

if the bitterness in your voice affected him, he didn't let it show on his face — but his grip around your arms softened, and you took that as your cue to get away from his touch. his presence alone was too intoxicating, clouding your senses and messing with your better judgment. 

little did you know, but you had the same effect on him. 

his closed fists weren't because of his rage, but from his urge to hold you between his arms once more — to feel your skin against his fingertips, to run his fingers in your hair and kiss your forehead, to hold you against his chest and tell you how many nights he was kept awake thinking about you. alhaitham was a coward and he was aware of it, knowing you were residing at the grand bazaar and not setting foot in the place, afraid of seeing you in the arms of another with no thought of yours being about him, like all of his were about you. 

“and what were you going to do? run away from all those scholars who were clearly offended by your choice of clothing?” he barked back, watching your eyes roll and your arms crossing on your chest. you were beautiful, wearing what the scholars believed were greater lord rukkhadevata's clothes back when she was alive. the color complimented your skin, and the flowing sleeves and skirts made your movements more graceful than alhaitham remembered them to be.

you scoffed. he was just like all the scholars you grew up to hate, arrogant and too confident in his abilities, and it hurt your heart to reach such a conclusion — that your first love was an akademiya scum. “i will not tell you.” you turned your back to him, starting to walk back to where you were, hoping that alhaitham would leave you alone to return home. but, the heavy sounds of his boots were your clue that he wouldn't leave you to your own company. “just let me return home.” you voice was quiet and full of hurt, small, just like alhaitham remembered it to be when your father would scold you. 

and he hated the fact that he was the one making you feel like that. 

however, he couldn't say sorry and leave you alone — he finally saw you after years of earning for such a meeting to happen and, even though he'd never admit that, he wanted to spend more time with you and know everything that happened in the years you were apart. he could always rely on the akasha to know such information, but things appearing on his mind would never have the same effect as hearing your voice. “you're defenseless. if your father knows that i didn't protect you, i'm a dead man by tomorrow morning.”

his words took you by surprise. “he made you promise this years ago. i'm sure that now he will be delighted if something happens to me.” you bit the inside of your cheeks to prevent the tears in your lashes from falling down, your head turned to the side so he couldn't see them. talking about your father was still a delicate subject for you — as much as you wanted to hate him for all the wrongs he said for you when you were fifteen, the loving and caring father that he was until that day arrived still plagued your thoughts. 

alhaitham shrugged. “i don’t care about him, i care about the promise i made, and i will not go back on my word.” you didn’t notice when you both stopped walking, but the gloved hand on your face, wiping the tears away while obligating you to look directly at his eyes, made your body be plagued by shivers and your cheeks to flush in a bright red color. 

he was the same alhaitham of your memories, wasn't he? the caring and kind, sometimes a bit too blunt, boy that you met alongside kaveh when you two were exploring the forest — his eyes were still the same, and even though they were now with different emotions than in the last time you saw them, his words still had the same painful effect they did once. did he still think that of you? that you were useless and a fool, that you had thrown away the brightest of futures to a life that wasn't worth it. your brows furrowed, and you got away from his grasp, missing the way his eyes shone with hurt at your rejection of his affection. 

but he would fight for you and he would gain your trust again, and alhaitham didn't care for the time this would take. he just wanted you back where you belonged — between his arms and in his life. 

— 

he stayed true to his word, even if you didn't know about them. all you knew was that he became a constant presence in all your performances, whenever they would be. he was the first person you saw when you opened your eyes after dancing in the honor of the dendro archon, the first person that congratulated you or the person who led you to safety when you decided to perform in front of scholars. 

it was annoying, at the beginning. alhaitham always had a critic to say, either being something about the music or the lighting — or even your partners in the performance, especially if they were men, saying that they didn't let you shine like he knew you could alone — but you knew that was his way of complimenting you. he has always been like that, too logical to know how to say a kind word instead of what you should do to make your performance better in the next time. it was almost endearing how he noticed the small details about your dance, like the way your hands moved or the sound your bracelets made when you clapped your hands. 

you both were from different worlds, but different worlds that completed each other in ways you never thought it would. the arts and the runes were almost like oil and water, but you and alhaitham made them mix it perfectly.

he also always made sure he was the one who left you at your room's door, perhaps to know that you were indeed safe, and you made the mistake of asking alhaitham if he wanted to come inside the third time he did that. 

it was already late in the night when your performance ended, that time at the the neighborhood with nilou, and you tried to argue with him that you didn't need his protection — everyone in the neighborhood knew who you are, and you knew how to fight and knew how to use your pyro vision to burn those who tried to harass you. and as much as he knew that, being the first victim of your vision, he still wanted you at his side. the question left your lips before you could think of it, the gossip that such an action would bring in the inn and in the grand bazaar long gone in your head. just like he wanted to make sure of your safety, you also wanted to make sure of his, too. 

you only had one bed, of course, you room enough only to fit one person living there. and as much as he tried to argue with you to let him sleep on the floor, you almost tied his wrists to your bed frame so he could sleep there, knowing that he wasn’t someone who slept much due to the nature of his job in the akademiya. but it seemed that your warmth was enough to make the akademiya's scribe to give up — you both fell asleep with a pillow between your bodies, but you woke up with his strong arms caging you to his chest and his face nuzzled in your neck. 

you didn’t dare to move, of course. you couldn’t know how alhaitham’s reaction to such an outcome would be, and the shallow breaths leaving his nostrils were proof enough that he was indeed awake, probably enjoying the few minutes of peace you and your house were granting him. you just nuzzled back on him, hearing him sighing and a pair of lips ghosting your cheek before his warmth left your bed. you only opened your eyes when you heard him moving around your small home. a few words were shared before he left to do his job, a small sandwich in his hands and the promise of seeing you again — though it took one week before that, in a setting that you wished was just a nightmare. 

—

zubayr theater had a performance scheduled in the grand bazaar, something that was proposed by you and nilou to bring attention to the place and help the merchants — every time a performance was announced in the city, all the eyes were directed to where it would be. children and women were always more open to the job you and your peers did, always enchanted by the dance moves and theatrics your troupe had to offer, while men and members of the akademiya always looked down with frowns whenever they attended one. you were still warming nilou to the fact that whenever the akademiya members didn’t like it, it meant you were in the right way. 

though, however, you never expected to see your father in the crowd. 

alhaitham stood proud at his side, though you could see that he was rather uncomfortable — in the short months you spent in his company again since you ran away, you learned what his lack of expression meant. it was just a mask you knew he developed in the years of studying in the akademiya, meant to deceive his peers into thinking that he was above them all, but you could see just by the way his eyes flicked to your form now and then that he wished he was anywhere but near your father. you didn’t know what prompted him to feel such discomfort, wondering if your father was now something more than just a sage in the akademiya, but you knew that you would never know.

you didn’t want to know. 

you just trying to ignore his presence in the crowd, his clothes as a sage almost in discrepancy inside the grand bazaar, focusing on the character you needed to portray — as always, the role of greater lord rukkhadevata belonged to you, while nilou was the goddess of flowers. it was a play about the birth of lesser lord kusanali, something that had always been wrapped in mystery to the common folk, and a great source for writers to romanticize and actors to give life to their plays. you were glad you were able to raise curiosity in the hearts of people about the birth of their god, though many of them were still disappointed with the new dendro archon’s lack of great doings. 

the performance ended with a round of applause by those who enjoyed it, and some looks of disapproval by those who did not. your eyes scanned the crowd until they found alhaitham’s, but the familiar soft and warm gaze he gave you whenever you ended a play wasn’t there — instead, you were met with cold and calculating eyes, and you didn’t know if he was behaving like that because of your father’s presence or if he finally was persuaded into seeing that you both were from different worlds and how bad it was. 

you tried not to be disappointed, nor make the pain in your heart be known by your colleagues, brushing nilou’s worried words with anxiousness — you gave a quick explanation about your father being in the crowd, and she seemed to buy it being the reason for the sadness in your eyes. 

after speaking with a few of your admirers, you excused yourself, feigning a bit of tiredness due to the preparations for the performance, smiling at the sight of the merchant’s tents filled with people — they weren’t many, but it was more than you were used to seeing every day. it was such small actions that made everything worthy of it, from running away from the safety of your family and the future your father chose for you to joining a theater troupe and changing your life in a way you only used to dream about, because you were sure you would never be able to help people if you were in the akademiya. 

you sighed, hearing rushed voices near your home. you didn’t want to spy on them, but as you recognized the voices to belong to your father and alhaitham, your curiosity took the best of you, hiding between a tree and some brushes. 

“i hope you are pleased with my job, grand sage.” 

that piqued your interest, hearing alhaitham calling your father by such a title, though your heart fell to your stomach. as much as you wanted to stay there and listen, something inside you told you to just run away and be ignorant — after all, ignorance was a blessing — because if you stayed, you would be heartbroken. 

the voice inside you proved to be right, alongside your father’s words.

“i am, indeed, pleased with your job, scribe alhaitham.” azar’s voice was just exactly how you remember it to be when you were growing up, authoritative and unkind. “it is good to get data about those performancers.” they weren’t so close but not too far, and you feared that if you did any abrupt movement your hiding spot would be found — but your fists clenched anyway, anger boiling in your blood by hearing such words. “especially my daughter. i do not want her to disturb any of the students with her foolish ideals. now, because of your help, we can stop her whenever she tries anything.” 

you tried not to let the tears that were pooling in your eyes to fall and give them the joy of making you cry after such knowledge, but the sadness inside you was stronger than any other resolution you had. alhaitham was just using you? all the time you two spent together, laughing and rebuilding your friendship, all the soft glances during late nights when he had accompanied you home, and hands brushing your cheek whenever he put a strand behind your ear while whispering goodnight — everything was just a lie for him? just a way for him to gather information about you and your peers to put on that damned akasha, for azar and the other sages to use against you and the other artists? 

and you had fallen for it like a puppy. 

you thought your childhood crush was something reciprocated, you really did, opening yourself to him like you did to no other man in your life. 

“i just did it to protect you.” 

his voice took you from your thoughts, your fists still clenched and your nails now draining blood from your palms. how could he? how could he lie so bluntly to you, feigning concern about you? “don’t try to excuse yourself, scribe.” you turned around to meet his eyes, finding them not like you thought they would be — emotionless and even with a bit of mockery shining on them, but they were hurt. 

because alhaitham never saw you looking so hurt and angry, not at himself. 

“i do not want to see you ever again.” 

you left him in the middle of the street with those words, his eyes following your shaking form until you were inside the safety of your house. alhaitham knew that you wouldn’t take his actions well, but he hoped you would never find out what he was doing — because he was, indeed, protecting you. if you did another performance near the akademiya, or near students that would report back to the sages, you would be exiled to the desert just like an insane scholar, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything to save you from such a horrible fate. 

he sighed, starting to walk back in the familiar way to the akademiya, his heart the heaviest since you left him when you were teenagers. 

maybe he just needed to give you some time for yourself, while he pondered what he could do to make you forgive him. 

—

one month. 

one month since you last saw alhaitham, and you wished you could say that his actions made you hate him — but it didn’t. 

it took you a few days to be able to dance and act again, though your eyes always scanned the crowd in search of him. he was never there, and as much as you were the one who said you didn’t want to see him again, you were disappointed. if he did have feelings for you, would he really give up on you like that? it was beyond frustrating what you were feeling, because you couldn’t understand him or his actions — he really thought you would be fine with him using you to gather information for the akademiya, even if it was to protect yourself from the archons’ know what? 

and now he just gave up. why wasn't he fighting for you? 

or maybe you were wrong, again. maybe he didn’t have feelings for you like you thought he did, and he was really just using you and all the little signals were just a play. if that was the truth, he was a better actor than most people you knew — better than yourself. you would never be able to pretend to have feelings for someone if it wasn’t in a play and you weren’t a character. 

as much as you tried to not let your feelings interfere with your everyday life, almost everyone in the grand bazaar noticed that something was wrong. nilou was the first one, the first to notice how puffy and red your eyes were from crying the whole night after the incident with your father and him. though you didn't have the courage to tell her what happened — after all, the dreamy eyes she had whenever you and alhaitham were around, perhaps imagining having a lover like him, didn't pass unnoticed by you — she still knew something happened between the two of you, always offering her support when you needed it. the others were mostly like her, though not as close to you to express their worry verbally. 

you lived your life the same it was before you met alhaitham after all those years, though it was harder now. before, his rejection to your young love was just a ghost, something that you would never know — now, however, it was a tangible thing, a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you still searched for his presence in your crowds. 

you would never learn that oil and water would never mix perfectly, just like you would never learn you and alhaitham would never have meant to be. 

that was what kept your shattered heart together, the glue holding all the pieces as thin as the air, and such a fact you came to know when kaveh visited you on a rainy day. you weren't expecting his visit, of course, the day uneventful due to the weather. you were teaching a bunch of little girls some of your favorite dance moves after they came to you when you spotted a tuft of blonde hair adorned with a blue feather and a pair of red eyes that you would always remember as warm. 

though kaveh's reappearance didn't shake you up like alhaitham's, his words were far more worrisome.

after a long awaited shared hug between two old friends and some pleasantries coming from both of your mouths, kaveh broke the news, his red eyes shining with a worry you never saw before in them — in fact, you did, on the day you ran away from your father. “i know something happened between you and alhaitham.” he started, his hands on your shoulders holding you at your place.

“kaveh…” you tried, not wanting to hear anything about him. what was kaveh going to say to you? that he was miserable and not himself, because of something he did? it wasn’t fair to you. 

he sighed, already in tune with your mannerisms again — you always said you two were platonic soulmates, knowing everything about each other from the top to bottom, being able to communicate with just your eyes. “i’m not here to play his advocate, far from it. i do not know what happened, as he did not tell me, but,” his grip on your shoulders tightened a bit, as if he was trying to prepare you for what was coming. “he was assigned a mission by the sages almost a month ago. a very dangerous one that i was against him going, you see, but the whole situation with you probably made him more prone to accept it. and…” 

“...and?” you heart was beating fast inside your rib cage, faster than you ever remembered it beating. a lot of scenarios were playing in your head, and all of them were worse than the other. 

“and he was severely injured.” the world around you was spinning, as if the air wasn’t enough to make the blood go to your lungs, making everything dizzy — but you could see the worry on his face. as much as kaveh pretended to hate alhaitham, you knew that deep down he cared about him, and vice-versa. “he is alright now, y/n, he’s being treated in the akademiya’s infirmary now.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, tears now glossing kaveh’s handsome features. 

“why are you telling me this?” such a question was eating you alive. you knew kaveh’s nature wasn’t a cruel one, but what he wanted to achieve with giving you this acknowledgement? 

“you’re still so impatient.” he chuckled, though it wasn’t filled with mirth like you remembered it to be. “alhaitham was probably going through some fever illusions and he… he kept calling in your name. in a pained way, saying that he couldn’t die before seeing you again.” you heart skipped a beat at your friend’s confession, even more tears glossing your vision now. alhaitham didn’t have this right, the right to break your heart and transform into dust and then made it whole again. 

you felt kaveh’s soft fingers caressing your cheeks, wiping the tears away, the beating of your heart more erratic than ever. “can i see him?” the question left your lips before you could think twice, the idea of him dying hurting more than your broken heart. 

kaveh laughed. “i was going to ask you that.” 

—

in the way to the akademiya, kaveh told you what happened. 

he narrated how he noticed something was off with alhaitham a day when he came back unexpectedly earlier to their house. he was used to finding his roommate with a permanent scowl on his face, but he seemed defeated — his scowl wasn’t the arrogant one that alhaitham always displayed on his face, but something akin to sadness and frustration. kaveh didn’t dare to ask what happened, already knowing what his friend was going to say, so he left the matter behind, deeming it to be problems in his job. during the week, alhaitham closed himself off in the house of daena, as if the books could cure whatever was making him so strange, until he came back home one day, gathering his essential things in a small bag and leaving for a confidential mission for the grand sage. 

kaveh only heard about alhaitham again two days ago, when he returned to their home bloodied and weak, and he took him to the infirmary — his wounds were more severely than kaveh thought they were, and while he was in the room to watch the amurta students taking care of him, he heard him muttering your name. 

“y/n… i can’t die… her… love… sorry… y/n…” those were the words kaveh told you alhaitham had whispered while he was in agony, probably delirious from either pain or fever. your heart broke even more knowing about this, your feet almost running straight to the infirmary, even though you didn’t know the way there — it wasn’t easy to sneak you in the akademiya, but the raining day meant that a lot of scholars weren’t lurking around, ready to see one of them with a performer from the grand bazaar, and you managed to infiltrate the place where all wisdom was created. 

kaveh led you to alhaitham’s room, in a wing full of patients who were labeled as having delicate cases, and you wondered what was the mission alhaitham agreed to go. did he went on it because he wanted, or because he was pressured to go? or he used this opportunity to forget about you, risking his life in the process? you couldn’t bear the idea of being the reason why he accepted such a dangerous mission and risked his life for nothing. 

but alhaitham was stubborn, and even if you asked, he would never tell you. 

parting ways with kaveh with a hug, you slowly entered the room your childhood friend was being treated in, careful to not make so much noise and awake him — kaveh told you he had been unconscious since he arrived, but you didn’t want to disturb him. what if he hated you now? what if he saw you as the culprit of the state he was in, and now was the one who didn’t want to see you? though his feverish words said otherwise, you were still nervous, like you felt whenever you were about to start a performance. 

the room was beautiful, just like everything in the akademiya, with a big window that you thought was supposed to make sunlight fill the room, and some medical instruments around it. but it was plain too, with white and green walls and a bed and some nightstand and a loveseat near the bed, probably for a companion. 

you made your way to the bed, your steps as light as a feather falling in the ground, afraid that you could awaken him and disturb his recovery. you just wanted to see him, see if he was well, and then leave — you didn’t know how your reaction would be if you saw him with open eyes, probably too overwhelming to see who just got away from lady death’s grasp.

alhiatham looked peaceful, you noticed as soon as you sat on the bed. 

he had no frown adorning his features, and he looked much more healthy than you thought he would — he wasn’t pale and his skin was glowing, even if his face had some small bruises which were decorating his handsome face with a tint of purple. he looked so young, just like the boy you had fallen in love while growing up, and it hurt. it hurt to see him like this and to think what your relationship became just because of the prejudice of your father and the scholars. 

you wanted nothing more than to caress his face and kiss his pain away and, before you could think straight, your fingers were already ghosting his cheekbones, going down to his lips and his bruises, feeling his warm skin underneath your fingertips and sighing contently feeling his breath tickling your skin. it was good to know that he was alive and well, and after making sure of that, you retracted your hand back to rest in your lap and knew you were ready to go back to the grand bazaar — would he come after you after his recovery? would he tell you what he was whispering in his agony? 

though, before you could leave his bed and the room, alhaitham’s hand grabbed yours, making a surprised gasp to leave your lips. 

“don’t go…” his voice was rough and raw, strange on his body after two days of not using it. “i do not know if this is a fever dream or not,” he opened his eyes, blinking it to make sure you weren’t a hallucination. “but don’t leave me again, y/n.” 

you smiled, a few tears going down on your cheeks. “i promise, alhaitham.” the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his cupped his cheek, and you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “go back to sleep, alright? i will be here when you wake up again.” 

he nodded, like a small child, closing his eyes again. 

—

alhaitham knew people from sumeru couldn’t dream, but why did your lips on his forehead felt so real? 

he groaned, the pain on his chest more than just a physical pain. it hurt to know that his brain and heart craved your presence so much that he dreamed about you — was the dendro archon giving him a bit of solace before he came to face the consequences of his actions? he knew he wasn’t supposed to fight a machine monster all by himself, even though he was strong enough to do so, but such a mechanical being wasn’t like the ones he faced before, and he needed to get that capsule of divine knowledge back. 

alhaitham thought that perhaps he could redeem himself in your eyes, if he managed to help sumeru and its people somehow.

he got the capsule back, but almost lost himself to it. he didn’t understand how he managed to arrive at his house before collapsing in pain and loss of blood, the journey home being filled with fever dreams of you and what could’ve happened between you both if he was more open about his feelings, if he wasn’t a coward and had fought for you. 

but now the past was in the past, and alhaitham couldn’t do anything to change. he could only bask in what his imagination could give him — the softness of your fingers on his face, the sweetest kiss of your lips and its warmth on his skin, the honey laced promise you made him. it would hurt more than any of his bruises the fact that he would wake up alone in such a cold room, with you being so far away from him. 

though the sound of footsteps gave him the idea he wasn’t alone. “close the curtains, kaveh, for the archon’s sake.” he muttered, turning around to not be graced with the sun rays on his face. 

the sound of a feminine giggle made him furrow his eyebrows, a sound so sweet that he was sure he was still in a fever dream — the last time he heard your giggles was a day before you discovered what he was doing, laughing at his complaints about kaveh. your smile and your laugh were his fuel to keep fighting that mechanical being, the idea of seeing you happy again enough for him to keep going. 

“if you want me to call kaveh, just say it.” you voice was laced with mirth, and a bit of concern, totally different from the cold and filled with rage tone you used the last time alhaitham saw you. it was almost comforting the way you seemed more at ease at his presence, though he knew he owed you an apology. 

he scoffed. “never.” he turned around once again, opening his eyes to find you sitting on the love seat near his bed. “hi.” he whispered while he watched you walking towards him, all the words dying on his throat at the sight of you. 

it was funny how he always had a witty remark to anything said to him, but never to you. your presence made his brain foggy and disoriented, all his thoughts revolving around you. he was just a useless star that couldn’t help but be attracted and circle around you, the sun, that gave warmth to everyone else. 

“hi.” you whispered back, your hands fumbling in your lap, as if you didn’t know what to do with them. “how are you feeling?” your voice had a tenderness that alhaitham knew he didn’t deserve coming from you. he’d never deserve your love or your kindness, something so pure and beautiful, even though you might think otherwise. 

he tried to chuckle, trying to ease the worry in your brow. “i’ve seen better days.” as much as he wanted to ask why and how you were there, alhaitham wasn’t brave enough to break the blissful bubble you both were in. he was afraid that his words would turn a switch inside you, that you would graze your eyes upon him with the same rage it was filled in the last time he saw you, that your fists would shake and your lip tremble with unshed tears — the love struck and kind look your eyes had was so much better than the fresh of you in his mind.

“i can imagine.” tentatively, you cupped his bruised cheek, fingers gently caressing his skin. he leaned into your touch, a relieved sigh leaving his lips at your display of affection — he was undeserving yes, but alhaitham was selfish and arrogant, and he would never back away from it. yet, the shadow of what happened and the questions from both of your hearts hovered above your forms. “i…” you seemed braver than him, trying to get the acknowledged that would soothe or break your heart even more, but alhaitham couldn’t let you be the one to start — he cut you by trying to get up, indulging your smaller hand on his, the bandages preventing your skin to touch, much to his chagrin. 

“let me speak first, y/n. i was the one at fault in the first place.” he watched as you nodded, body coming closer to him, your smell clouding his senses and the only thought in his head was kissing your lips until they were red and raw, seeing you beneath him with red cheeks and disheveled hair. “i know you do not believe me, but i was protecting you when giving information about your troupe to your father.” at the mention of the grand sage, your face became sour — though now more hurt than angered, and alhaitham knew such a change of feeling was good. “you were going to be exiled to the desert, my love.” the term of endearment didn’t go unnoticed by you, your cheeks becoming hot at the possessive form before it. 

you were his. 

“i was desperate. i had only found you after being an incognito in my life for almost ten years.” his grip on your hand tightened, and alhaitham sighed. “i’m not asking you to forgive me so easily, but do not look at me with that rage again.” he pleaded, bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing your knuckles, his warm lips caressing your skin as if he was worshiping a goddess. “my heart is yours to do whatever you want, and i will endure it, but don’t deny me seeing the love in your eyes be corrupted by such a horrible feeling.” 

alhaitham closed his eyes, taking your hand to rest over his chest, ready for your rejection. 

“why did you accept this mission?” your voice was quiet, and your words totally different from what his mind told him what they were going to be. “i thought… i thought you had only used me, alhaitham.” your reveal wasn’t a total surprise for him, because he knew his actions were misleading. 

“i guess i just wanted to forget what i made you feel.” he admitted, arms coming to wrap around you and bring your body to rest on his chest. it hurt, because his wounds were still fresh, but that was where you belonged. you fitted perfectly between his arms, your face hid in the warmth of his neck and his head resting above yours, your bodies almost melting into each other and becoming one. 

his arms tightened around your form when he felt your body shake and his neck wet by your tears. he didn’t try to pry, though his heart ached with your quiet sobs, but he knew you would talk when you were ready — the only thing he could offer now was physical comfort, and even though alhaitham thought he was the worst person to give any kind of comfort, but it was you. you always made his best traits to shine, and the worst ones to become less bad.

after some time, your sobs quieted down and your body stopped to shake, and your voice filled his ears. “you really hurt me, alhaitham.” you were using a scolding tone, as if he had done something bad but something redeemable. “i’ve been in love with you since we were children, and you doing that…” 

“you were in love with me since we were children?” his shocked voice made you giggle, your body adjusting so you were straddling him, hands cupping his cheeks and noses touching. alhaitham’s cheek were tinted with red, a sight that you never saw before but something so mesmerizing that you wanted it belonged to eternity — his eyes were lidded, pupils wide with a mix of love and lust, his hand gripping your hips to bring you even closer to you. 

another giggle left your lips when he kissed a spot near your lips. “for being the akademiya’s scribe, you’re a bit stupid, my beloved.” you managed to say before his lips were attacking yours, in a kiss that — even though it was delayed for ten years — was the testimony of his endless love for you. 

THINGS CLASS 1-A BOYS ARE INSECURE ABOUT and how you help them feel better

tiny angst to big comfort, not too distressing

masterlist

warnings: body image, body checking, stretch marks, self bad mouthing LOL, sleepy time writing and not proof read. hope u enjoy!!!

part 2 shiratorizawa vbc

KIRISHIMA

• bby doesn’t like his tum :(((

• he gained a lot of weight as he grew up and most of it was muscle but he has a little pouch and he doesn’t like it one bit

• if he goes to the beach, he’ll always swim with his shirt on, even though he’s a famous hero and is largely thirsted over

• sometimes he just needs to have u near bc he gets a little sad when he thinks about all the other pros u could be with their hard and chiselled and perfect bodies and he doesn’t know why u would ‘settle’ for him ( >:((( )

• which you hate bc there’s nothing you would change about him and you actually think it’s really adorable and he’s the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen and it just makes you so mad

• you try to tell him that you think he’s gorg in every conceivable way

• he’ll take the compliment and it will make him smile but it doesn’t change how he feels in the long run

• funnily enough the thing that gets him to like his belly more is when ur insecure about ur tummy actually!

• he catches you in the mirror pulling back ur top up look at ur stomach and you sigh defeatedly

• homeboy is like 😱😱😱🤨🤨🤨🤬🤬🤬

• he comes up behind you and places his hands on ur waist, rubbing the front sides and telling you how much he loves you in ur ear

•caresses ur belly and really looks at it in the mirror. he thinks it’s so cute, so soft and warm, he thinks the extra pudge is just more surface area to appreciate on you, and he loves ur cute love handles, he likes how they look when he pinches them

• the next time he’s checking himself in the mirror, he lifts up his shirt and looks at his tummy. huh, it’s not so different to urs, he never notices that before. he brought his fingers down to squidge the sides, and they felt like urs.

• this makes him think, if he likes it so much on you, why can’t he like it on himself??? he should be proud he looks even a little bit like you, the great beauty you are to him.

• so, now, whenever he sees the extra fat in his tanks, or feels it against the waits band of his shorts, he just thinks of you and smiles warmly. maybe he was a handsome boy, just like you said

MIDORIYA

• he has a lot of stretch marks actually!

• he built a lot of muscle very quickly so they’re on his arms and his upper back

• doesn’t let them bother him too much he’s pretty happy with his looks i’d say

• but sometimes if he looks at himself too long he’ll see them and he’ll falter a bit, he just wishes his arms were ‘normal’ sometimes but there’s not much he can do

• all you have to do is verbally reassure him

• like if you find out he doesn’t like his stretch marks, you just need to say:

“izuku! be quiet i love ur stretch marks!!”

• he’ll be like :o really?

• and ur like “yeah dumb dumb i think they’re hunky and they’re like free tattoos. plus this skins really smooth there.”

•after that instead of looking away when he catches them in the mirror, he flexes his big arms that he worked so hard for and smiles like this ^U^

KAMINARI

• doesn’t like his nose ???

• you can’t imagine why

• you ask him why when he complains about it while ur getting ready for bed sometimes, sharing a mirror

• he’s like “it’s too ... pointy”

• what ever the fuck that means

• you slowly start to try and help him feel a little better by kissing the tip of his nose a lot instead of his cheek or his forehead

• it’s not scientific but u hope a bit of extra a attention will help

• it does make his heart warm, and he decides if u like his nose so much, he’ll try to see things your way from now on

• he wants to be more confident not just for himself but for you too. a big chunk is for himself too tho

• cherry on top is when ur watching a movie and the hottest guy in the whole thing comes on screen and u absentmindedly go “that guy has the exact same nose as you” as u play with his hair with his head in ur lap

• he holds onto that compliment til the end of time

IIDA

• his glasses :(((

• wishes he could look more like his brother, but he can’t wear contacts bc he has sensitive eyes

•feels embarrassed putting them on in the morning, feels like a dingus wearing them sometimes (break my heart why don’t you)

• let’s just say it’s before you get together

• thinks they could hinder his chances with you too

• That is until,,,, he hears you chatting away with Mina about your ideal man

•”hmm i’m not sure.. i like nerdy guys tho, like smart, trust worthy, all that. can’t say i’m not partial to a man in glasses either.”

•his cheeks had never been redder

• he had gone to find you to ask you a question about a project you were doing together, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore, which was admittedly not very nerdy of him

•all he could think about is that he’s ur type, he’s ur type, he’s ur type

• all worries about his glasses disappear, or are brushed aside soon after they appear after that incident

heya gang, this was fun to do, let me know if u want a part 2 with more characters, although it’s hard trying to not make them repetitive. replies and reblogs appreciated!!! bye love u bye!!!

Frogmic: Frog Song