hugs4shizu

Latest Posts by hugs4shizu

those nights with fratboy!miya atsumu whos an ultimate softie with you

more fratboy!atsumu here!

"not going to the party tonight?"

atsumu shook his head, a muffled sound escaping as he buried his face in your back, his arms ensnaring you in an embrace. a small smile played on your lips. "why not?" you asked, even though you might have an inkling as to why. you've noticed that this is the umpteenth time he's skipped a party to spend time with you, a pattern that began when you started dating.

he groaned. "dont wanna," atsumu replied, tightening his hold around your torso. you chuckled, continuing to type on your laptop while perched on atsumu's lap, from which you couldn't escape. "you'll get bored hanging out with me, you know?" a hum was your reply, followed by the sensation of his breath on the back of your neck. "mm, no, I won't," atsumu murmured, planting a kiss on your skin and savoring your warmth.

"i want to be close to ya," atsumu's words sent your heart soaring, and a wide grin spread across your face. you shifted, turning to face him as you wrapped an arm around him, stroking his hair. "tsumu's being clingy today, isn't he?" you teased, a playful tone in your voice as atsumu whined when you ruffled his hair. "shaddup," he shot back, but a concealed smile betrayed his pretended irritation. he looked into your eyes as you caressed his hair tenderly, which you met with a smile.

"what?" you inquired.

"nothin',"

atsumu couldn't help himself. he grinned mischievously, leaning further into you as he tightened his embrace, eliciting a whine from you. oh, how he wished this moment could last forever.

you chuckle softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. “you’re such a softie, tsumu,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

atsumu’s cheeks flush slightly, but he doesn’t let go. “only for you,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper.

you smile, feeling a surge of affection for the boy who had somehow wormed his way into your heart. “well, im glad you’re here,” you say, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his back. “but I really do need to finish this paper.”

atsumu sighs dramatically, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “fine, fine. I’ll let ya work. but only if ya promise to take a break soon and spend some time with me.”

you laugh, nodding. “deal. now, be a good pillow and stay still.”

he grins, settling in more comfortably. “anything for you, babe.”

as you continue typing, you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment. despite his frat boy reputation, atsumu had a way of making you feel cherished and loved. and in moments like these, you realized just how lucky you were to have him by your side.

Hearbreak Anniversary with Zayne

Summary: It was your anniversary with Zayne. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC? Pairing: Non MC! Reader x Zayne Note: MC in this fic goes by the name Lina (my name... so if you are angry, you can be angry at me :3). This oneshot was based on this request. I will write this for the other LADS men too. Also I don't think any of these men would ever be the type to actually willlingly forget it. Especially Zayne. So I had to adapt the request a bit. Content Warning: injuries, panic, insecurities, self worth issues, Zayne POV

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Sylus version

Zayne’s apartment smelled like him—clean, crisp, and faintly of the eucalyptus-scented candles he kept on the shelves. You sat on the edge of his couch, smoothing the fabric of your dress down your thighs, nerves making your fingers tremble slightly. The dim light of the chandelier cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating the carefully planned surprise you had for him —flowers, his favorite treats, elegant scarves, and jackets you had spent weeks picking out. The final touch was the flexible weekend getaway tickets, somewhere warm and far from the sterility of hospital walls. A place where he could finally rest.

You had gone all out for tonight. The garden-themed restaurant was supposed to be the perfect setting—a quiet, intimate place where vines curled around twinkling fairy lights, and the soft scent of fresh blooms would fill the air. And you had dressed accordingly with something elegant, something that made you feel beautiful for him. The deep navy-blue dress you wore clung to your form just right, the intricate lace details at the sleeves soft against your skin. You had taken your time getting ready, styling your hair to perfection, slipping on a pair of delicate earrings he once admired absentmindedly. A spritz of white jasmine perfume, the one he once said reminded him of spring mornings. You wanted to look like someone worthy of being by his side. You wanted to be beautiful for him, for the man who had somehow, impossibly, fallen for you.

Because, truth be told, there were times you weren’t sure you were.

you still didn’t understand how this happened—how Zayne, the prodigy, the man who could save lives with his hands and mind, had chosen you. He was brilliant, disciplined, and deeply compassionate. And you? You were just… you. Ordinary in comparison. He never made you feel small, never belittled you, but standing beside him you felt you were just lucky to be there. His world was one of brilliance, filled with extraordinary people—Lina, the fearless Deepspace Hunter; his late friend Caleb, a DAA pilot whose loss still lingered in hushed conversations; his esteemed mentors and fellow doctors who spoke in a language you could only ever grasp at the edges. Compared to them, compared to him, you felt so small.

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, was supposed to be about the two of you.

You had fallen for him in the quietest of ways—through the gentle cadence of his voice, through the moments he noticed things others didn’t. How he’d pull a chair out for you before you could do it yourself, how he’d check the temperature of your tea so you wouldn’t burn your tongue, how he’d listen, really listen, to your ramblings even after a 48-hour shift. He had nestled himself into your heart without you even realizing it.

And tonight, he had insisted he wanted to be with you, even with the chaos of the hospital weighing on his shoulders.

The call came two hours before your reservation. You already knew what he was going to say the moment you saw his name flash on your screen.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Zayne’s voice was warm, familiar, but there was an edge of exhaustion to it. “I’m so sorry. I can’t make it tonight.”

Your heart sank, but you swallowed it down, forcing your voice to remain even. “It’s okay, Zayne. I know you’re busy.”

“It's been a long shift, and the surgeries…”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll cancel the reservation. Take some breaks and rest, okay? You sound tired…”

“I am fine, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “I swear.”

"It’s fine, Zayne." you whispered, even if it wasn’t. “We’ll just celebrate it another day. No big deal.” Even though it felt like one at the moment.

Still, you weren’t upset. Not really. You understood. You always understood.

You hung up and exhaled slowly, pressing your palms against your lap. It wasn’t his fault. He was working back-to-back shifts, saving lives, doing what he was meant to do. And yet, you couldn’t quite keep the disappointment from settling in your chest.

You exhaled slowly, stripping away the dress you had so eagerly put on just hours ago. You slip into into one of Zayne’s oversized sweaters instead, the one that still smelled like him, the sleeves swallowing your hands. You wear leggings underneath and slip on your shoes. You took your time packing the gifts back into the car, moving slowly, as if dragging out the moment would make it hurt less. Maybe when he was finally done, you could pick him up from the hospital. At least you’d get to see him and surprise him. This was what occupied your time for the next three to four hours.

Once everything was back in the car, you plopped yourself on his plush but ergonomic couch. You scrolled through your phone while waiting, mindlessly tapping through social media, until one post stopped you cold.

Lina’s story.

A picture of her sitting across from Zayne in a small restaurant outside Akso hospital, the caption lighthearted:

When you have to drag out your doctor because he won’t follow his own advice about resting. (-_-)

Zayne looked amused in the photo, tired but still composed, his lips slightly curved in a small, rare smile. He looked… content. His gaze focused on her as if she had just said something ridiculous.

Your fingers trembled as you stared at the screen.

It was stupid. It was so stupid to feel like this. Lina was his childhood best friend. She had never given you a reason to be insecure, and yet, the sting of it hit you like a slow, creeping ache. He had time to go out for a meal with her. He had time to smile like that, even after canceling on you. You knew you were being irrational, that he had only stepped out for a quick bite in his busy shift, yet you felt betrayed.

Tears pricked at your eyes before you could stop them. You wiped them away quickly, but they kept falling, silent at first, then turning into quiet, shuddering sobs. You felt pathetic. Childish. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. You knew he wasn’t. But it hurt anyway. Because you would have taken anything—just a few moments, even just a simple meal at that tiny restaurant, if it meant spending time with him today.

It hurt in a way that made your chest feel tight, made the lump in your throat impossible to swallow. The sting of it crept under your skin like a wound you hadn’t realized was open, raw and aching. The disappointment bled into something uglier, something heavier. Why, after everything, did it feel like you were always on the sidelines of his life? No, Zayne never made you feel that way. It was your own spiraling thoughts.

A loud sob choked its way out, your hands gripping the fabric of his sweater as if that would somehow ground you. You wanted to hate yourself for crying over something so petty. He was saving lives. He was exhausted. He didn’t mean to hurt you.

But it hurt.

You needed to go home. You needed to collect yourself before the ugly thoughts swallowed you whole. You stood up, tears streaming down your face, as the weight of it all seemed too much to bear. You didn’t want to sit here anymore. You didn’t want to wait. You needed to go home, to clear your head, to get away from the overwhelming sense of inadequacy.

You sniffled, grabbing your keys and heading out. The highway would be the fastest route home—less traffic, a straight shot. You rerouted, pressing your foot on the accelerator, trying to breathe through the tightness in your chest. You wiped at your tears quickly, trying to focus on the road.

The road stretched out before you, a wide expanse of concrete and asphalt that felt like it would swallow you whole. The tears wouldn’t stop, and you wiped them away, trying to steady your hands on the wheel, trying to focus on the road ahead. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that you understood, that you were rational about his work. The reality of it, the empty seat next to you, the disappointment of seeing Zayne happy in a photo with someone else, it all felt too much.

And then—

Headlights. Too close. Too fast.

A car jumped the signal, trying to merge into the highway.

You slammed the breaks, the scream of tires against pavement rang in your ears.

The impact was instant. A violent, sickening jolt that sent your body forward, the seatbelt snapping against your chest, the airbag exploding in front of you. The windshield cracked, splintering into a spiderweb of broken glass. Your vision blurred, the world spinning.

Pain.

Your chest burned, lungs straining to catch a breath. Your limbs felt heavy. You reached for the seatbelt, your fingers fumbling, but it was jammed.

Fuck.

Your head lulled forward, resting against the deflated airbag. Your head was heavy, your thoughts slipping away like sand through your fingers. The distant wail of sirens reached your ears, but they felt so far away.

Your vision swam, the edges darkening.

I hope the other person is alright.

The thought barely had time to settle before everything faded into black.

ZAYNE'S POV

The fluorescent lights of the hospital buzzed faintly, casting an artificial glow over the chaos of the emergency room. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the undercurrent of blood—familiar, almost routine, yet tonight it gnawed at Zayne's nerves in a way he couldn't quite shake. He hadn’t left since he stepped through those doors, yet somehow, the guilt weighing on him had nothing to do with the lives he saved today. It was you.

He was tired. God, was he tired. His body screamed for rest, his temples throbbed from the strain of back-to-back shifts, but the hospital was understaffed, and there was no room for exhaustion when lives were at stake. As a cardiologist, his expertise lay in the intricate mechanics of the human heart, but duty demanded flexibility—especially in the ER. Cardiologists weren’t meant to be dealing with blunt force trauma and lacerations, but tonight, none of that mattered. They needed doctors. He was a doctor. So, he worked.

Even through the fatigue, his mind kept drifting back to you. He could still hear your voice from the call earlier, soft and understanding despite the disappointment laced beneath it. You didn’t deserve this. You had every right to be upset, to be frustrated that he had broken his promise, yet you didn’t even complain. That hurt more than if you had yelled at him

God, he loved you. And he hated himself for testing that patience again and again.

His hand tightened around the pen he was holding. He had plans—plans to make it up to you. The necklace in his office drawer, nestled in a velvet box, had been meant for tonight. Something small, perhaps, compared to everything you did, but a token of his devotion nonetheless. He could still salvage this. Maybe he could call you later, ask if you were still awake—

His device beeped, pulling him back to the present.

MVA on the highway. ETA: 5 minutes.

Multi-vehicle accident. Paramedics on site, victims en route.

Zayne exhaled sharply, shifting into work mode. He stepped into the ER just as the first stretcher was wheeled in. The radio chatter from their comms filled the space.

"Female, mid-to-late twenties, restrained driver, T-bone collision from a vehicle that ran a red light. Airbag deployment, but impact trauma to the chest from seatbelt. BP slightly low, likely from pain response. Tachycardic at 112. GCS is 14. Possible wrist fracture, mild concussion. No signs of internal bleeding from the ultrasound, but needs further imaging to rule out any complications."

He nodded briskly, slipping into the detached, clinical efficiency that had been drilled into him for years. It was only as he stepped forward, pulling the curtain aside, that his breath caught in his throat.

His world stopped.

There, on the hospital bed, was you.

Lying on the hospital bed, your hair disheveled, your skin pale against the stark white sheets. His breath lodged in his throat, the world narrowing to a pinpoint focus on the rise and fall of your chest. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. There was dried blood at your temple, your lower lip swollen where you must have bitten down upon impact. The sight of the IV line in your arm, the faint bruises forming along your collarbone—he couldn’t breathe.

No. No. No. No. No.

"Dr. Zayne…" Yvonne’s voice cut in, sharp and urgent. A warning. He was frozen. This wasn't just a patient. This was you.

He blinked, his hands suddenly trembling as he reached for his gloves. Breathe. He had to focus. Had to push past the sheer, gut-wrenching fear threatening to paralyze him.

This is her. She was waiting for me. She—

"Dr. Zayne!!" Yvonne pressed, handing him the updated chart. "She needs you."

That snapped him out of it.

The moment his hands touched you, they were steady again. His voice was even as he examined you, the motions automatic, controlled. He checked your pupils, gently palpated your ribs to assess for fractures. He was a doctor. He was your doctor right now. He had to move. Focusing, he reached for his stethoscope, pressing it against your chest to listen for abnormalities. The rhythm of your heart was steady, but your breathing was just slightly labored—likely from the seatbelt trauma.

"You’re going to be fine." he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

You were stable.

"Her left shoulder—check for AC joint separation," he murmured, voice steadier than he felt. "Get a CT to rule out any internal injuries. And…" He swallowed. “Get me images from the crash site.” He needed to see how bad the collison was. He had to.

The hours blurred. He monitored your scans, adjusted your IV, checked your vitals more times than necessary. Each time his eyes drifted to you; his chest ached. He had seen the accident reports—your car, your windshield shattered, the crumpled hood. And the contents scattered across the scene…

You had planned everything.

For him.

And he wasn’t there.

Zayne clenched his jaw. Flowers were scattered, crushed against the upholstery. The pastries you must have picked out for him were ruined; their boxes torn open from the force of the crash. And gifts. There were so many gifts. He hadn’t even known you had planned all this.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

You had so much waiting for him. And where had he been? At a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, eating with Lina because she forced him to take a break. He had been smiling in that photo while you were—

God.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling shakily as he sat by your bedside. He should have been with you. If he had just—

The monitor beeped steadily, a quiet reminder that you were alive.

Now, he sat beside you, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest, fingers curled into his palms to keep them from shaking.

"Wake up, sweetheart." he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just wake up."

And for once, Zayne—brilliant, composed, always in control—felt utterly powerless.

The beep of the heart monitor was steady, rhythmic, but Zayne found himself gripping the edge of his chair every time you stirred, waiting for that moment when your eyes would finally open. His body was stiff from staying in the same position for hours, but he didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to miss it.

Then, a small shift in your breathing. A twitch of your fingers.

Zayne leaned forward just as your lashes fluttered, your eyes cracking open, only to squeeze shut again at the harsh fluorescent lights. You groaned softly, shifting against the sheets. Instinctively, you tried to sit up.

"Hey—stay put," Zayne said immediately, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you down. His touch was gentle but firm, his fingers warm even against the hospital gown. "Don’t move too much yet."

Your body resisted for a moment, muscles tensing as if you wanted to argue, but the disorientation dulled your fight. Your gaze finally settled on him, hazy with the remnants of sleep and confusion.

Then you frowned.

“…You look tired,” you murmured, your voice soft, still groggy. “How long have you been here?”

Zayne’s heart clenched so tightly it hurt. Even now, even when you were the one lying in a hospital bed, barely recovered from an accident, your first thoughts were about him.

His throat felt tight, but he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to speak. “You should look at yourself first, sweetheart.”

Your gaze flickered down, taking in the IV in your arm, the bruises along your wrist, the faint soreness that no doubt ached across your body. Zayne exhaled sharply and reached out, his fingertips tracing the side of your face before cupping your cheek fully. His thumb brushed lightly against your skin, as if grounding himself with the warmth of you. His eyes were moist, though no tears fell.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low, raw in a way that stripped away every layer of his usual composure.

You parted your lips, breath hitching as if you were about to reassure him—to do what you always did, to let him off the hook, to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

But he didn’t let you.

“No,” he cut in firmly, shaking his head. “Not this time. This is the one time you shouldn’t be so understanding.” His jaw clenched, something bitter twisting in his expression. “I should have been there. We should have been celebrating our relationship. End of discussion.”

Silence settled between you.

After a beat, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair before looking at you again. “Why didn’t you demand my time?” His voice was quieter now, tinged with regret. “You had every right to.”

You hesitated, glancing away. “…I didn’t want to bother you.” Your fingers twisted into the hospital blanket, grip tightening slightly. “You’re important, Zayne. You save lives. I didn’t want to pull you away from that.”

Something in him snapped.

He let out a sharp breath, then reached for your hand, gently prying your fingers from the blanket. His grip was warm, grounding.

“Shh… And you think you’re not?” he murmured, shaking his head. “Don’t ever say that again.” His gaze bore into yours, unwavering. “You are important to me.”

"You’re important to me," he repeated, voice steady but almost desperate. "Just like my work makes demands of me, you are more than entitled to make demands of me, too."

Your eyes searched his, uncertainty flickering beneath the lingering haze of exhaustion. But Zayne’s gaze didn’t waver.

"I know I should have been there," he said again, quieter this time. He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before brushing a thumb over the edge of your jaw, tilting your face slightly. “When I saw you on this bed when I entered the ER… pale, unconscious… I haven’t felt fear like that before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not in all my years of doing this. Not like that."

You didn’t say anything, but your hand came up slowly, resting over his.

He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling.

This—this was what he almost lost.

His jaw clenched, then loosened as he exhaled. “I don’t want to ever feel it again.”

Another pause.

Zayne inhaled deeply, steadying himself. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin, as if reassuring himself that you were still here. That you were warm. That he hadn’t lost you.

“I know I say I’m sorry a lot… and it probably has lost meaning to you.” he murmured; his voice rough with emotion. His lips pressed into a thin line, as if struggling to put his feelings into something more tangible. “I should have been there. And I will be. Every step of the way until you’re fully recovered and after....”

His eyes flickered downward, scanning you like the doctor he was, but this was different. This wasn’t just clinical analysis—this was personal. "You got lucky," he admitted, exhaling through his nose. "Blunt force trauma to the ribs, a mild concussion, and a broken wrist. Some lacerations on your arm and leg, but nothing deep enough to require surgical intervention. The worst was the head trauma, but the scans came back clear. No bleeding, no swelling. That’s the only reason I’m not having a complete breakdown right now…" His fingers ghosted over your arm, careful not to apply pressure. "Nothing life-threatening or with lasting consequences. But still… you shouldn’t have had to go through that alone." His jaw tensed. "Not when you have me."

You gave him a small, tired smile at that, and something inside him twisted.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to reach into his pocket, his fingers closing around the small velvet box. He’d gone to his office to clock off for the day to be beside you when he picked it up from his drawer. The very box he wanted to give you today. The one that was supposed to be given in a far more joyful setting. This was supposed to be today. A night spent celebrating the two of you—not this. Not hospital beds and IV drips and the hollow fear that had nearly swallowed him whole.

But none of that mattered now.

What mattered was that you were here. And this… this was still yours.

His throat felt thick as he flipped it open, revealing the necklace inside—a delicate silver chain holding a white jasmine pendant, smooth and polished, its petals carved with intricate detail. And behind it, barely visible, were his initials.

His fingers trembled just slightly as he took it out.

"I was supposed to give this to you today," he admitted, voice lower now, almost guilty. "Before all of this. Before I let my own priorities get in the way of what really mattered." He glanced up at you, and for the first time in a long time, he looked vulnerable. "I don’t want you to ever think that you come second. Because you don’t. You never have."

Gently, he reached around your neck, his touch featherlight as he fastened the clasp. The cool metal of the pendant settled just above your collarbone, resting against your skin. His fingertips lingered there, just briefly.

Then he let out a slow breath, tilting your chin up just slightly with his knuckles. His mind still reeled with everything that had happened, with everything he should have done differently.

"I love you," he said, and this time there was no hesitation, no wry smirk to mask his emotions, no half-hearted deflection. Just honesty, raw and unguarded. "Even when I do a crappy job at showing it." He didn’t need you to say it back—he just needed you to know.

For a moment, silence stretched between you. Then, his lips quirked, just slightly, into something softer. "And since I’m apparently on mandatory bedside duty, I hope you’re ready to be completely spoiled. I’m talking fresh coffee, extra pillows, a ridiculous number of medical advices—"

A small, breathy laugh escaped you, and Zayne felt something in his chest loosen at the sound. Then, slowly, you lifted a hand, brushing your fingertips over the pendant before reaching up to cup his cheek.

Zayne leaned into your touch instinctively, exhaling softly. He smiled, finally, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. "Yeah," he murmured. "We’ll be just fine. I've got you sweetheart... I'll always be here for you."

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Sylus version

Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom

hi! may i request with aiku as ex bf?? what would he do to get our hearts back??? (he kinda the one who ask for breakup but he’s still missing us) <3 have a lovely day!!

hiii! thank you for your request, i absolutely LOVED writing this one so much! it has a tiny bit of angst and some fluff. it was such a blast to write, and i hope you enjoy! ₊˚⊹♡

call you mine!

wc: 1.1k + ex-bf!oliver aiku x reader + slight angst + happy ending + fluff + sfw

ex-bf!oliver aiku who breaks up with you over a fancy dinner, holding your hand lightly as he says, “Let’s break up.” 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who watches you leave the restaurant with an expressionless face, your back disappearing out of the door into the rainy, cold night as tears bead on your lashes. He’s too busy for a relationship anyways, he thinks. You were only a distraction to him. This is for the best. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who’s spotted with some famous actress less than a week later, arm wrapped around her waist as he escorts her to some fancy, overpriced hotel—which is something you never experienced when you two were together.

ex-bf!oliver aiku who shows up in the news every now and then, and you find out that he’s had a new girl on his arm almost every week in the couple months following the break-up. Another actress, some rising singer-songwriter, a daughter of a wealthy CEO—he’s running through women faster than you can comprehend. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who puts on his trademark playboy bravado for the media, but can’t deny that there’s an empty hole slowly gnawing at his heart—a hole that your presence used to quietly occupy. It’s slowly breaking him down and he desperately tries to fill in the cracks with woman after woman, but it doesn’t matter. None of them are you. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku drinks away the ache of loneliness every night, finally admitting that breaking up with you was a mistake. Hell, even his parents thought that breaking up with you was a mistake. He misses the way his jersey falls over your frame and the way you’d fall asleep with your head on his shoulder during long flights and the way you smiled and laughed when he cracked a joke and- fuck. He just missed you. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku sends you drunk “I miss you” texts and sober “let’s talk,” ones, only for you to completely ignore them. He jumps at every text notification he gets (though he tries not to) only to be disappointed again and again when he realizes it wasn’t a text from you.

ex-bf!oliver aiku sees you for the first time after the break-up at one of his games—but why’re you cheering for the rival team? 

ex-bf!oliver aiku is consumed by jealousy when he sees you wearing someone else’s jersey. It drives him mad, and he completely crushes the other team, 4-0, as if he’s trying to prove something to you. When the final whistle is blown, he finds you all too easily in the crowd, satisfaction sparking in his stomach when he sees your pretty eyes fixed on him. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku tries to corner you after the game ends, running through the crowd, hand reaching out to tap your shoulder, only for you to slip away and vanish from his sight. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who should be celebrating his devastating win with his teammates is instead holed up in his apartment, drinking his feelings away. He shoots you a drunk “come over” text before passing out, holding his phone to his chest. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who shows up at your door a week later, holding a bouquet of flowers in hand. You’re surprised; he never bought you flowers when you two were together, so why now? 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who asks you, in a smooth, confident voice, “Let’s get dinner tonight.” only for you to reject him. You think about all the times he ignored your texts or forgot an anniversary or ditched a date to go drinking with his friends, and it’s more than enough for you to close the door in his face. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who, despite feeling a pang in his heart when the door shuts in front of him, shows up the next day, and the next, and the next, each time with a new expensive flower arrangement or luxurious self-care gift basket. You shut him down every time, but it doesn’t stop him from showing up the next day, gift in hand. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who starts asking you a question each time he shows up at your door: “What’s your go-to coffee order? What’re your favorite flowers? What styles of jewelry do you like?” 

ex-bf!oliver aiku slowly begins to change, popping up at your door in the chilly mornings to drop off your regular coffee order, and often stopping by in the evenings to hand you a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers or jewelry that’s exactly your style.

ex-bf!oliver aiku does this for two months straight, surprising you with his presents and questions each time he appears at your door, and one day you finally bring yourself to ask him why he’s doing all this. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku, the one who’s usually brimming with confidence, is suddenly shy, his heterochrome eyes cast downwards staring at his feet. He’s silent for a moment, before saying:

“I know I should’ve treated you better. Really. Hell, I never even asked what your favorite flowers were. But I only realized that you put everything into loving me after you were gone, and I felt like shit because I know that I didn’t do the same for you even though you deserved it more than anyone else.”

He pauses for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Drunk texts aside, I miss you. A lot. And I just want to show you that I care about you and am willing to put effort this—into us— if you’ll let me.” 

You’ve never seen the proud play-boy Oliver look so vulnerable, voice soft and back slightly hunched. Clutching the bunch of flowers he’d just brought you, you think for a moment that maybe—maybe, he’s changed. 

And it’s instinct that makes you lean up to his bowed head and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

When you pull away, his eyes are wide, jaw dropped halfway open. You give him a hint of a smile. “This weekend. Take me somewhere nice, ‘kay? And don’t be late this time.” 

Without another word, you slip inside, leaving Oliver stunned on your doorstep. 

boyfriend!oliver aiku who shows up outside your door 15 minutes before the arranged time, clean-shaven and dapper in a crisp suit, elegant bouquet of flowers in hand. When you step out of the door, you look so beautiful that for once, Oliver is nervous to take someone out for dinner.

boyfriend!oliver aiku who now brings you flowers on every date, never misses an anniversary, celebrates with you after every game, and never ignores your texts or calls.

boyfriend!oliver aiku who finally recognizes how happy he feels with you at his side, and knows that he’ll never let you go again. 

hold me down | oliver aiku

synopsis. oliver’s always been different with you. he doesn’t figure out why until tonight.

pairing. oliver aiku x fem!reader | wc. 1.8k | genres. established relationship + fluff + pet names (princess & doll) | warnings. only a little suggestive cuz is it really an aiku fic if it isn’t?

notes. ooc oli because he would never in a million years do this but im just a girl and i have dreams okay. also a little late on this but thank you for 500 followers. i love love love you guys so much. | divider by @/plutism !!

when oliver comes home, he’s burnt out. the combination of a workout with the athletic trainers and an afternoon practice back-to-back had drained the life out of his muscles. he makes a note to never do one after the other ever again.

oliver sets his duffel bag by the side of the living room couch. he lets his weight fall back on the cream colored cushions. he takes a moment to stare up at the plain ceiling before his eyes flutter shut.

he ascertains that he wasn’t asleep for long when a gentle shake at his thigh slowly yanks him from his state of slumber. his mind is still groggy, yet oliver can already confidently guess who would dare to wake him just by the shape of the hand on his thigh. it's the only other person he gave a copy of his apartment key to. he doesn't question why you're here. he's used to you coming over to stay a few nights.

“you okay, oli?” you ask, hints of worry laced in your pretty voice.

“mhm.” oliver hums. he picks his head up. "no need to worry about me, princess."

you’re fresh out the shower. he realizes this after he picks up on the addicting scent of your coconut and vanilla bodywash that you keep stashed in his bathroom; he senses that there's something else mixed in with it too. he recognizes it to be hints of orris and cedarwood, a combo that he finds on his own clothes. his eyes travel and the sight of you in his shirt nearly makes him pounce on you. he doesn't have the energy for that though, so he opts for reaching out for your hand.

"are you sure? i only woke you 'cause i didn't want you sleeping on the couch. do you want to move to the bed?" you gently squeeze oliver's fingers. "i'll clean out your practice bag too if you want."

"no."

"no?" you chuckle in bewilderment at your boyfriend's sleepy defiance. oliver weakly pats his thighs. you bring your eyebrows together in thought.

your eyes had widened ever so slightly, and he knew you just figured out what he wants. you shake your head. "we don't have to today. you're tired."

"mmm, don't care." oliver denies your refusal and pats his thighs once more. he sees you sigh, the falling of your chest pushes the air out of your lungs, but a soft grin replaces it instantly because who are you to defy him?

you approach oliver, hiking up one leg to come down on one side of his body with the other following immediately after, settling your weight on his lap. your arms drape over his shoulders.

he squeezes your hips before asking the signature question. "how was your day, doll?"

"let me think." you play with the green tips of hair at the back of oliver's neck as you rack your brain for interesting moments to share with him.

oliver isn’t sure how this habit started, but he couldn't be bothered to determine the exact details of its beginnings. all that he’s certain of is the fact that this little routine you’ve developed with him is the best part of his day.

he adores the feeling that comes with your entire weight resting on top of him. he loves being able to take in every detail of your beautiful face up close. he’s addicted to your voice and the stories that you inject into his veins.

he'll admit, some days it’s not even about hearing about your day, some days oliver would use this established routine as an excuse to get touchy with you. his hands would wander down to your ass and you'd throw glares at him. your narrowed eyes would only egg him on more. in response, he’d sit up straighter to kiss your neck, sucking and nibbling at that one sweet spot that makes you scratch at his back. you’d lose track of your story, trading details in for stutters.

you'd say that it’s sly and underhanded. you'd chastise him for not listening, but some days you’re just as unfair. oliver could be in the middle of sharing his recollection of the photoshoot he had earlier in the day when you decide to sneak your hands under his shirt. you’d play dumb as he shivers beneath you, your doe eyes encouraging him to continue. he’d try to carry on with his story, but all he would be able to focus on is your palms running up and down his abs. you'd nod your head as he speaks, there’d be a twinkle in your eye that lets him know that you’re fully aware that he’s on the verge of snapping and taking you right there.

other days no words are exchanged at all. oliver can read your mind just by having your mouth on his. he can tell just by the way you tug on his hair and whine against his lips that you badly missed him.

and sometimes oliver isn't able to be there with you at all. he deems those days to be the worst. they're reduced to facetimes where you try to hide your pretty face from him. the calls lag and crash because some days he's halfway across the country or on an entirely different continent.

today doesn’t fall into either of those categories, and he's most definitely thankful that it isn't the last. today, oliver is solely focused on hearing from you. he lets your rambles take root in his bones. he studies you as you talk. the lights in your eyes rival the stars. the smile on your face as you recall the dog you saw at the park could kill a thousand men. the fire of your touch could set the world ablaze.

oliver is well-aware that he's not worthy to be graced with such beautiful sights. he's no saint. his past is stained with his unfaithfulness and his trail of many relationships. he isn't sure why you gave him a chance despite knowing what he's done. you had said that at least he was being honest about it, but that had only left him with more questions than answers. shouldn't that make you more put off about dating him?

he chooses to ignore it; he shoves the question deep into the corners of his head until it's practically invisible. instead on picking apart that question, he focused on you.

throughout your ongoing relationship, he's put thought into your dates, making sure that they're never exactly the same. he spoils you rotten but not with lavish gifts. the one time he did you were severely unhappy at his thoughtless spending, and thus he made a note in his mental archive to reserve such actions only for your birthday (and anniversaries). instead, he ties your shoe laces for you and he fixes your jewelry. he kisses away your tears when you cry and learns the recipes to your favorite meals. he sits you up on the surface of the sink in his bathroom and brushes your teeth for you when you're too tired to do it yourself. he lets you drag him into doing skincare and makeup because it gives him an excuse to admire how cute you look when you're focused, and he gets to relish in the feeling of your hands brushing against his face.

it was baffling. when oliver first started realizing how much he does for you, he felt like an alien had possessed his body. there was something that had latched itself onto the controls of his brain. that had to be the reason why he was acting so out of character. when he told this to itoshi sae, he was called a fucking idiot and a loser, and looking back, he probably was. the answer, the explanation for his new behavior was in front of him the entire time.

it's simply because-

"i love you." oliver utters out loud. your hands freeze in his hair. whatever you were saying previously dies on your tongue.

"huh?"

oliver blinks slowly. the words had slipped out unintentionally; the gravity of them crush him suddenly. the aftertaste of them is foreign, like they were never supposed to be spoken from him. it's new territory. it's the first time oliver's said that to you in the four months you've been together. it's the first time he's said that to anyone for that matter.

he contemplates taking it back, as if he could ever extract the words from the air and shove them back down his throat. but why bother with jumping through those loops? he has no good reason to take it back. he has no use spinning a truth into a lie. so instead, oliver offers you an upturn of his lips, his heart threatening to break out of his chest. he soaks in all of your microexpressions. your mouth is stuck in a cycle of opening and closing, your eyebrows drawn together in disbelief.

"idiot." you mutter shakily, gnawing at your quivering lip. you bury your face in the crevice of oliver's neck. it makes him smile. he knows your tells. you're about to start crying. "do you know how long i waited for you to say that?"

oliver pulls you in closer, wrapping his buff arms around your waist. "i know." he acknowledges. "i'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

you tug hardly on his hair to get back at him. the pain spreads to his scalp, and he can't find it in him to be mad. "damn princess." he chuckles.

you remove your head from its hiding place. both of your hands slide so that they rest on either side of oliver's neck. in the light, he can catch the path of tears that fell from your eyes. "yeah, well, you deserved it."

"i know."

"i love you too." you breathe out desperately. the four words that have been boiling inside you, the four words you've managed to cage up finally rush out and crash down like waves.

"yeah?" oliver smirks. you lean in closer, and he gives your waist a quick squeeze.

"yeah. i love you so much." you whisper in front of oliver's lips before he closes the inch gap between you two.

usually, when oliver kisses you, he's does so as if he's a starved man; he wants to devour you whole. this is nothing like that. he substitutes his hunger for softness. his lips are gentle against yours as if to prove himself to you. he wants you, with every fiber in his being, to believe that his words are true. his 'i love you's' are real and honest and come from the deepest parts of his heart. when you pull away, you both look at each other as if your each other's entire world.

"i love you, princess." oliver says. the words are still unfamiliar on his tongue, but he thinks he can get used to them. he'll say them as many times as he needs to if it meant that he can see that blinding smile on your face.

oliver aiku is no saint, but he'll do anything for you.

A toast to the past - Dabi x Reader

Warnings: a lot of sadness, grieving

Synopsis: some bonds and moments never truly die, no matter how much time passes. This is what you've learned not only from the League of Villains, but mostly from Dabi himself

A/N: as we say goodbye to 2024, I want to take a moment to wish you all a very Happy New Year, filled with good health and an abundance of positive energy. A huge thank you to everyone who has taken the time to visit my blog, read my stories, or offer the support - your kindness means the world to me. I’m looking forward to welcoming the new year and sharing even more with all of you. Here's to more adventures together in 2025!

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The icy wind gnawed at the edges of the dilapidated bar, rattling loose boards and curling under the gap at the door. The League of Villains’ ramshackle hideout wasn’t exactly the place one might expect to find themselves celebrating. It wasn’t often the League found a reason to celebrate, but tonight was an exception. New Year’s Eve was as good a reason as any to drag out the stolen liquor, laugh a little too loudly, and forget - if only for a few hours - about the vain world of heroes that loomed outside.

Yet, the hideout was alive with chaos. 

Spinner had begrudgingly joined Twice and Toga in their frantic attempts to decorate, though the results were predictably awful - streamers dangled half-heartedly from the ceiling, and a mismatched assortment of paper lanterns cast flickering light across the room.

Mr. Compress sipped his drink, attempting to draw Giran into the conversation.

Shigaraki, for once, seemed to tolerate the festive atmosphere, though he sat hunched in his chair, lazily swirling a glass of a cheap champagne, scratching idly at his neck and glaring at anyone who came too close, his Switch laying on his lap.

Kurogiri had been busy behind the scenes, thoughtfully preparing colorful drinks for everyone. He made sure to mix several non-alcoholic ones, particularly for Toga, knowing she would enjoy them without the risk of getting drunk.  He'd always kept an eye on her, knowing well that she could easily lose control if left unchecked, just like Tomura. At the same time, he carefully prepared extra shots for Shigaraki, who had openly mentioned earlier that he wanted to get wasted to dull the unbearable itching sensation crawling beneath his skin. Kurogiri had always been attentive, and tonight, he was doing what he could to ease the discomfort of his comrades, in his own quiet, efficient way.

And then there was Dabi.

The black-haired man, as usual, lingered on the outskirts of the noise, a silent observer. He stood by the window, cigarette in hand, eyes half-lidded as the faint orange glow reflected off the sharp planes of his face. The scarred corners of his lips twitched occasionally as he watched the others, though whether in amusement or annoyance, it was hard to tell.

It was a strange thing, this party. A group like yours wasn’t exactly built for celebrations. You were all too fractured, too worn by the world to embrace something as frivolous as joy. And yet, here you all were, crammed into this shabby room with mismatched streamers hanging crookedly from the ceiling.

"Five minutes to midnight!" Toga announced, clapping her hands together with a giddy grin. She darted to Twice, who was balancing a precarious tower of plastic cups, and immediately knocked it over in her excitement.

"You little menace!" Twice cried, his tone swinging wildly between indignant and adoring.

It was impossible not to laugh. Even Shigaraki's lips twitched in the ghost of a smirk before he buried his face back in his hands.

You glanced at Dabi, who hadn't moved from his spot by the window. Smoke curled lazily around his head, his expression unreadable. Something about his stillness drew you in like gravity, and before you realized it, you were walking toward him.

"You're missing the party," you teased, stopping just short of leaning against the same wall.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze flicking to you. "Looks like I'm not the only one."

"Fair," you admitted with a small smile. “But you’re really going to sulk through New Year’s?” You leaned your hip against the wall, tilting your head as you studied him.

“Sulking implies I care,” Dabi shot back, but the retort lacked its usual venom.

The countdown began, Toga’s voice leading the charge. “Ten! Nine!”

As the countdown began, the League’s mismatched voices filled the air, a cacophony of excitement and half-hearted participation.

Dabi didn’t move. He didn’t turn to the others, didn’t even glance at the clock. His gaze remained on you, sharp and heavy.

“Eight! Seven!”

“You’re staring,” you said softly, though your tone lacked any real accusation.

His lips twitched into something that might have been a smirk. “So are you.”

“Six! Five!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as he took a step closer. He stopped just a breath away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him despite the chill that crept through the cracks in the walls. His hand came up to cup your cheek, rough fingers brushing against your skin with a surprising gentleness that made your breath hitch.

“Four! Three!”

The noise around you faded into nothing, the room dissolving into a blur as his thumb traced along your lower lip.

“Two! One! Happy New Year!”

The room erupted into cheers, Toga’s high-pitched squeal cutting through the din as the others toasted and clapped, but none of it reached you. 

Dabi leaned in, his lips crashed against yours. It wasn’t soft or tentative - he wasn’t the kind of man for that. Dabi’s lips were firm, his touch possessive, the kiss rough and consuming. The heat of him, the faint taste of smoke on his lips, made your knees weak, and you clung to him as though letting go wasn’t an option.

The world seemed to pause, time itself holding its breath as the moment stretched. 

Dabi pulled back, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. His breath ghosted over your lips as he muttered, “Happy New Year, doll.”

Before you could respond, Toga’s delighted giggles shattered the moment. “Dabi kissed Y/N! I knew he would!” she crowed, clapping her hands in glee.

Twice let out a loud, exaggerated whistle. “Didn’t see that coming. Well, maybe I did. No, I definitely didn’t!”

Even Shigaraki seemed momentarily stunned, though he quickly muttered something about idiots and looked away.

Spinner groaned, muttering something about how he couldn’t believe he was spending his New Year with these people.

Compress raised a toast to the unexpected romance, and Twice fumbled with the camera app on his phone to snap a blurry picture. 

But none of it mattered. 

All that existed in that moment was the way Dabi looked at you as though the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

“Alright, show’s over,” the black-haired man groaned, shooting a pointed glare at Toga before grabbing your wrist and tugging you toward the door, leading you straight to his bedroom.

The night passed in a blur of heated whispers and shared warmth, his body a steady presence against yours as you made love for hours. The two of you stayed wrapped around each other long after the world outside went quiet. Dabi’s arm draped over your waist, his breath steady and warm against your shoulder. Neither of you spoke, content to exist in the stillness, in the rare, fragile peace of the moment.

The memory still lived in your heart, as vivid and searing as if it had happened yesterday. The hideout filled with laughter and chaos, Toga’s delighted clapping, Twice’s off-key singing, and the way Dabi’s lips pressed against yours at the stroke of midnight - it was a fleeting moment of happiness in a world that had given you so little.

But that was last year. That New Year’s Eve was the last you all spent together.

Everything changed after that night. The war came, tearing through your lives like a storm, leaving devastation in its wake. Too many lives were claimed, too many futures snuffed out. The League, the world, you - it all fractured, irreparably changed by the battles fought and the losses endured.

Now, you sat cross-legged in the grass, the late afternoon sun warm against your shoulders. A simple summer dress clung to your frame, and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers. In your lap was a handmade bowl of soba, steam curling lazily into the air.

“I started a job last week,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “It’s nothing glamorous, just working in the back of a diner. Washing dishes, peeling vegetables, that sort of thing. It’s hard, y’know? People don’t exactly trust someone with a past like mine.” You picked at the soba with your chopsticks, twirling the noodles idly. “People stare. They always do. Even when they don’t recognize me, they can tell there’s something off, like they can smell the smoke that clings to me. I can’t blame them. It’s not like I’ll ever really blend in.” You laughed softly, though the sound was hollow. “It’s funny,” you continued, wiping your cheek where a tear had fallen unnoticed. “The normal life we used to joke about… it’s so much harder than I thought it’d be. People don’t smile much, not really. And some days, it’s like I’m invisible. Maybe it’s better that way.” 

You held the bowl tighter, your knuckles white against the handmade ceramic. “I brought this for you,” you offered, shifting slightly to place the bowl in the grass. “You probably would’ve made some snarky comment about how it’s not your style, but I thought… I thought you might like it anyway.”

The words caught in your throat, and before you could stop them, the tears came - hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks as though the dam you’d built over the past year had finally broken. You didn’t bother wiping them away. What was the point?

It took everything in you to get here. Reaching out to the Todoroki family - people you’d once thought of as enemies - had been harder than you could have imagined. But you needed to know where he was, where they’d laid him to rest. You couldn’t keep carrying the weight of his absence without a place to grieve.

The breeze shifted, and for a moment, it seemed to carry a faint, fleeting scent of fire - charcoal and smoke. It wrapped around you like an embrace, stirring the strands of your hair. It was fleeting, barely there, but it made you pause. Slowly, your lips curved into a small, trembling smile. “You’re listening, aren’t you?” you whispered, wiping at your face. “You always were good at pretending not to care.”

What you didn’t know - what you couldn’t know - was that he was sitting right there, just as you’d imagined. His spirit leaned against the gravestone, one knee drawn up, his chin resting lazily on it. He was watching you, his pale eyes filled with a mixture of longing and sorrow. He reached out, his fingers ghosting over your cheek, aching to wipe away your tears. But it was futile, of course. You were here, in the world of the living, and he was there, trapped in the world of the dead. Dabi whispered, “Stop crying, doll. You’ll ruin your pretty face.” But the words faded into the breeze, unheard and unspoken.

He watched you carefully: the way your hands trembled slightly as you set the bowl down, the way your lips quivered as you spoke his name, the way your tears reflected the light of the setting sun.

You couldn’t see the way his jaw clenched, the frustration in his eyes as his hand passed through you like mist. The space between your worlds was too vast, and all he could do was sit and observe.

You didn’t know he was there, couldn’t feel the weight of his gaze or the ghostly touch of his hand. “I miss you,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you rested a hand on the cold stone. “Every day, Touya.”

He closed his eyes, his head tilting back against the gravestone as if to steady himself. The scars on his face softened in the glow of the afternoon sun, and for a moment, he looked almost at peace. “I miss you too,” he whispered, though the words were meant only for himself.

The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the cemetery. Your fingers brushed over the gravestone, tracing the letters carved into the cold stone: Touya Todoroki. The breeze swirled again, wrapping around you like an embrace. It felt warm, comforting, almost like him.

“I miss all of you. Toga, Tomura… even Twice and his constant grumbling.” You laughed weakly, but the sound was hollow. “The world’s quieter now, but it doesn’t feel better. It feels empty.” And with that, you sobbed more. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I’m sorry I couldn’t save any of you. I’m so fucking sorry…”

When you finally stood  and brushed the grass from your dress, you glanced back at the tombstone one last time. “I’ll keep going,” you whispered, your voice shaky but resolute. “For you. For all of you. I promise. I promise I won’t let go. I’ll never forget you. And you guys will always live in my heart.”

He watched you turn to leave, his gaze lingering on you as if memorizing every detail - the way the sunlight caught the strands of your hair, the way your shoulders straightened even under the weight of your grief, and a faint smile crossed his lips as his scarred hand rested on the top of the tombstone. “We all know that, doll,” he murmured, his voice soft and low. “Live the life we weren’t destined to have. And don’t forget - I’ll love you forever.”

As the wind swept through the graveyard once more, Dabi’s spirit winnowed like mist under the light of a chilly morning, fading into the air that surrounded you. And a promise, carried on the breeze, was as eternal as the love he left behind.

tagging: @pixelcafe-network

hi :)

“i was made for lovin’ you, baby” — karasu tabito,

minor ep nagi / karasu backstory spoilers

‘Do ya still love me?’

The words left Karasu’s mouth before he could even think or arrange his depressing questions properly and once they were let out, Karasu immediately regretted them.

He’s no stranger to such thoughts—in fact, they’re more common in his mind than he’d like to admit. Almost every hour of every day, he’d be plagued with these unpleasant thoughts and more. If he didn’t put a stopper on it, if he didn’t bottle them up then he’d fall down a spiral and that’s the last thing he ever wanted.

The last thing he ever wanted was for someone to see him as weak, as mediocre.

And he’d do just about anything to prevent that from happening.

‘Hmm? What did you say?’ you mumbled, tearing your eyes away from the tv screen and towards him.

Oh. You heard him.

‘Nothin’ babe, don’t worry,’ he replied, he looked down at you, trying to smirk but his muscles failed him.

He looked—felt—defeated.

‘Everything okay?’ you asked, your attention towards the tv was long gone—all now directed towards his blue and purple stained eyes.

God, the way you looked at him made him weak. He just couldn’t lie to you—not after the fact that out of everyone, you chose him. Him, a mediocre-at-best soccer player. Him, even with his sharp and degrading tongue.

‘Why… why me?’ he whispered. He wished you didn’t hear these words, he wished you couldn’t see him in such a pathetic state.

‘Whatever do you mean?’

You heard him, again.

He closed his eyes and took a breath in—he couldn’t believe that he was opening up to you. What if you left him afterwards? What if you thought he was too… clingy and desperate for reassure? What if? What if? What if?

‘Why did ya choose me out of everyone? Lots of guys were pinnin’ after ya so… why me?’

He was so mediocre and you were Aphrodite wrapped in human flesh.

‘Why wouldn’t I date you?’

What? That’s the last thing he expected you to say.

‘You’re just… perfect,’ you mumbled against his ear, moving upwards to kiss his mole. His mole always got too much attention from you but he could never get used to the feeling of your soft lips against his skin. God, the sensation made him feel like he’d burst into a thousand flames.

‘…so perfect.’

‘You’re smart too, very smart. I haven’t seen anyone explain chemistry to me like how you explained it to me.’

He reminisced back to the multiple tutoring sessions you had with him back in the early days of your relationship. ‘When you rambled about Transition Metals to me, that was when I realised I liked you.’

‘You’re pretty… did I ever call you pretty? Well, you’re really pretty to me, the prettiest if you will.’

No one ever called him that before. Sure he’d gotten his fair share of compliments but no one ever called him pretty of all things. He never believed he could blush this hard but you proved him wrong—he knew his face was a deep crimson right now.

‘And above all else, I love you, Tabito.’

Oh. You said it, you said you loved him.

To mask his surprise, he attempted to cover his emotions with his classic smirk and cocky-ness: ‘I know ya do, babe. I know you love me.’

Bit by bit, a small part of his wall had broken—he had opened the walls for you slightly and for the first time, he didn’t regret letting someone in.

He was no stranger to insecurities but at least now, he had your reassurance to build him back up.

ding!

. . . miya atsumu. late night blues.

contrary to popular belief, atsumu’s social battery is not at all long-lasting.

sure, he was well-known all throughout his school, could hold a conversation to a degree, and is often seen with a lazy smile on his face as he greets his schoolmates and fans alike, but that did not mean that he didn’t get exhausted by maintaining his social quota to a higher level.

and when his social battery is leeched dry, you can immediately tell.

“what’s up, buttercup?” you quietly ask, linking your arm with atsumu’s as you two continue on with your late-night walk together.

it’s the little signs that you notice even amidst the dark surroundings. his nose scrunches ever so slightly, his mouth thins to a small pout, and he unmistakenly goes quiet all of a sudden—no matter what he was talking about prior.

“tired‘s’all,” he answers, a soft sigh emitting from him.

you hum, knowing better than to push it. “wanna head back? i can walk you home.”

“no, no.” atsumu shook his head in reply to your suggestion. “i still wanna stay with ya,” he tells you, finding solace in how the evening wind feels against his face, nearing hyogo’s idle public parks. “humor me for a moment, yeah?”

“shoot,” you snort.

he’s careful with his words.

“d’ya love me?”

“of course,” you answer without even the slightest hint of hesitation. “i love you so, so much, ‘tsum.”

he feels your grip on his hand become firm, yet it still carried that gentleness he knew and love. atsumu visibly relaxes, and a short breath of relief exhales through his mouth.

“what brought this up, hm?”

“dunno,” he answers truthfully. “just wanted ta ask.”

“‘tsumu.”

“y/n.”

“‘tsum.”

“y/n.”

“is that all there is to it?” you ask him once more. “because if something’s bothering you, you know that you can talk to me about it, right?”

“mhm,” he nods. “was a tad bit—well, felt—insecure for a second there.”

another thing was that when atsumu’s social battery ran low, it brought out impulsive thoughts that he thought had never bothered him before. those thoughts that he tried to shrug off with one of his signature quipbacks and whatnot begin to resurface once he feels vulnerable and exhausted.

“well, i love you very, very much, ‘tsum.”

“even if i do corny shit just to gain yer attention?”

“yes.”

“even if i spam your messages once class and practice is over?”

“yes.”

“even if i sometimes sulk about being the lesser twin?”

“miya atsumu,” you say, cupping his cheek. “there is no such thing as being the lesser twin when you and your brother are mentioned in the same light, ok?”

he doesn’t look entirely convinced.

“you are you, and your brother is your brother. you may be identical, but your personality is different, your handwriting is different, and how you perceive things in life is different,” you explain, steady with what you say to get your point across.

“but that doesn’t make you the ‘lesser’ twin just because he’s a bit more levelheaded, y’know?”

atsumu made a small whining sound.

“you’re miya atsumu, and you’re the only you in this world; d’ya get me?” you chuckle, peppering kisses all over his face. “you’re unique because you’re you.”

and your boyfriend practically melts and basks in your attention. reassured, and loved.

just as it should be.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

miya atsumu x reader, 2k

SUMMARY: osamu asks if you ever get jealous when people flirt with atsumu.

A/N: holding my hands up to say that yes i love osamu more. i DO. but atsumu has been wreaking havoc in my mind lately…… so. here we are. this is very sappy if i’m being Real with you. also sel this is for u and the unfortunate realisations we have both come to — godbless.

The street lights outside blink an ugly shade of yellow as the sun finally makes way for the moon.

Osamu flips the sign on the front door to closed before taking a seat in front of you.

If your schedule hadn’t been so hectic this week, you’d be at the stadium watching the Black Jackals match in real time and celebrating their win.

Knowing Atsumu, you would most definitely be donning his jersey in the crowd as you cheered. He gets pouty if you don’t, and you’ve learned to pick your battles over the years.

Instead, it’s 8pm and you’ve made yourself comfortable in an empty booth at Onigiri Miya, eyes focused on the screen where it hangs on the wall.

“It’s miraculous you aren’t worried, honestly,” Osamu said, the words slurred through his full mouth. You hum absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the tv screen.

He only gestured at the television, where Atsumu was doing an interview post match and looking particularly handsome despite the sweat dripping down his face. He was nodding, smiling, speaking. The usual motions. There was a woman next to him. You weren’t really looking at her. Atsumu laughed, tipping his head back and exposing the long line of his neck, and you found that infinitely more interesting.

“Worried about all that,” Osamu said. His arm was still aloft, making a motion at the woman interviewing his twin, and when you humoured him to take a look, you found said woman already looking at Atsumu.

“She’s looking at him because he’s speaking,” you pointed out.

Osamu made a face. “Yeah, duh, I know, but like. You know what I mean.” he took a sip of his drink, offering it to you. You took it. “Tsumu getting flirted with at work.”

“Ah,” you said.

He had gotten lemonade, which was sweet of him. You liked lemonade a lot more than he did. "It's been happening since high school. I'm kind of used to it by now."

There was something skeptical in the slant of Osamu’s brow. "He's getting hit on a lot more now though."

You hummed again. You knew that, too. Atsumu had complained about it more than once.

But you reckoned that it was just the natural progression of things. Atsumu had always been attractive, had always been the kind of good-looking that made you question whether your eyes were working correctly, but then he got older.

Broader. More muscular. More confident.

You were willing to bet that it was the confidence that did it more than anything.

Once, when they were all drunk out of their minds, Suna had remarked that Atsumu walked like he "owned fifteen different properties both in Japan and overseas", and you had nearly peed yourself laughing at how ridiculously spot-on it was.

"It doesn't bother me," you said, laughing a little when Osamu's face went from lightly skeptical to completely unconvinced. "Honestly! It really doesn't!"

"Not that I'm saying you have reason to be worried," Osamu began, "but I will never let you forget how fucking sulky you got back then, especially because I was the sorry ass in charge of making sure you cheered up."

You couldn't even defend yourself, but you were going to try to anyway. "I wasn't that bad."

Osamu looked at you with a flat expression. "You at some point said, and I quote, ‘Samu, I am never going to find love ever again,' after a reporter asked for his number."

You screeched, hitting his shoulder and whining when he dodged easily. "Why do you even remember that? Fucking weirdo."

"How else am I gonna keep you under control if not through blackmail?" Osamu said, dodging again when you tried for another hit. "It's your own goddamn fault that you keep giving me ammunition."

"Fuck off, it was different back then. I was in denial and pining over my stupid crush," you sniffed, settling more into the seat and stealing the last of the lemonade in indignation.

"You're still very much in denial and pining," Osamu pointed out. "I don't even fucking know how and why you're still pining because you're actually dating him now."

"Rich coming from you. How long did it take you to ask your girlfriend out again? Pot and kettle or however the saying goes."

Osamu scowled, "I am nowhere near as bad as you.”

"You Libra placements and your denial..."

"Letting you get into astrology is a mistake I will never recover from."

"Please, and when you want me to look at your compatibility chart again-"

Osamu clamped a hand over your mouth, shushing you desperately. "What the fuck."

"The blackmailing is mutual," you said, shoving him off of you. "Equal exchange, I give half of my humiliation to you, you give half of yours to me."

"This isn't equivalent, you gave me all of your embarrassment and I've barely done anything— don't look at me like that."

You only raised an eyebrow further.

"Shut the fuck up."

"I'm not saying anything?"

"You're loud even when you're quiet."

You both give it a break for a while, going back to eating and watching. There was a different player on screen now, one that you’re pretty sure you’ve met before but can’t place the name. Osamu seems to know since he’s listening intently.

Sakusa shows up next, followed by Hinata and Bokuto before it pans back to the whole team and you catch sight of Atsumu again, this time with another interviewer who was standing too close for comfort. At the sight of this exchange, Osamu turns to you again.

"You're really not worried? Like, seriously?" he asked, quieter this time, not a single trace of teasing in his voice.

You were touched with how concerned he was. For all of his complaining, he was invested in your happiness, seemingly more so than his own actual brother.

"Seriously," you repeated. "I'm not worried. Genuinely.”

.

.

.

You were already in bed when Atsumu trudged through the door. Your boyfriend had stopped in place as he found you, and it made you smile, a little helpless, and extend a hand.

"Hi," you said. He didn't move. "You okay?"

"Sorry," he said, rubbing at his eyes and shrugging off his bag. "I just have to make sure I'm not dreaming and that there really is the most gorgeous person on earth in my bed right now."

"Oh fuck off," you said, voice choked and close to a wail. Atsumu only grinned, laughing when you covered your face with your arms.

"Babeee," he whined, ambling over to the bed to plop himself on top of you. "Hey, come on." He reached up to peel your arms away, and the look on his face was something between complete rapture and excitement. He looked at you like that a lot.

"Hi there," Atsumu said, smile wide enough to break his face, and you could never in your life resist it.

"Hi there," you repeated. Your hands went to the back of his neck to tug him down, and he was more than happy to come closer. You hadn't kissed since this morning, and it was almost midnight now. You had to make up for lost time.

"You okay?" you asked again when you came up for air eventually. Atsumu's face was in your neck, his mouth open and sweet against your skin, tongue and teeth and lips laving over the spot where your pulse roared. You kept shivering at each little nip and suck. You could feel Atsumu smiling. You didn't know whether to kiss him again or hit him.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. He pressed another kiss near your collarbone. "Have you now. I'm all good."

You huffed a little laugh through your nose. "My baby’s exhausted?"

You felt more then saw the small shudder that went through his body and hid your smile by putting your face in his hair. He smelled like lavender— the new cologne you had bought him a few weeks ago.

"Yeah," Atsumu said, the words all breathy and sighed-through and it made another shiver hiss through you, fluttery and warm and all-consuming. "Your baby’s exhausted."

"You showered before you got home?" you asked. Atsumu's skin felt clean under your fingers, none of the tackiness of sweat from playing a game left behind.

He made a small noise, petulant, but relented when you wouldn't stop pinching his cheeks.

"Come up, big baby, I just wanna see you— there you are." you smiled, watched as he mirrored it. You ran your thumbs over the highs of Atsumu's cheekbones, over his eyebrows. He closed his eyes, humming as you tipped his face this way and that. His ears were red under all of your careful attention. His ears always did that. You’ve been dating for almost two years.

You were kind of thrilled.

"Look at you," you said, low and hushed and unabashedly awed.

There was a slice of moonlight that had slipped through the curtains, and it caught the side of Atsumu's face— you had spent a lot of time looking at him. Through the years spent as a young girl with a crush so huge it felt world-ending, through the time spent before you got together, carrying feelings under your tongue and biting down in the hopes it wouldn't bleed through your words.

Until now— still as lovestruck as the day you met him but more settled now, more complete, because to love someone as they are and not as they show you is to love them whole— you looked at Atsumu. Sometimes you were sure that you knew Atsumu's face better than your own.

Even back then, when you were just the nebulous idea of friends, studying Atsumu never felt like you were studying a stranger.

You had spent a lot of time looking at him, but even still there were moments where he would turn, or his profile would catch the light differently, or he'd look at you the way he did now, and you’d be overwhelmed all over again.”

"You're so pretty," you said, smiling as red bloomed, ruddy and bright, across the planes of Atsumu's face.

"Baby’s so pretty. Stunning."

"Stop," he whined, trying to get out of your grip, but you knew that whenever your boyfriend said 'stop' he really meant 'keep going'.

"Prettiest boy in the world," you breathed, giggling when Atsumu could only whine again, his face crumpling in embarrassment. "Pretty pretty pretty.”

"That's you," Atsumu said, leaning up a little to press a kiss to your forehead. "The prettiest person in the world is you."

"Hmm, still think it's you," you said, and watched as the flush spread to his neck, over his shoulders, peaches over cream.

It still shocked you sometimes, how well you can read each tick and shift in his expression. How the little twitch to his upper lip meant that he wanted to kiss you, how his eyes would go dark whenever you called him beautiful.

How there was a certain smile that he seemed to save for no one else but you. It sat slightly goofy on his face, crooked and dimpled, a tad bit too human to be shown in front of cameras. You hoarded all of those smiles. Atsumu only ever smiled like that when he was too happy to care about how he looked, too caught up in the bubble you created for yourselves to let any passing thought intrude.

He was smiling like that now.

"Missed you too," you murmured against his mouth, the words a kiss of their own. You cupped his cheeks. "Missed my boyfriend very much."

You watched him as he unfurled, closing his eyes, that smile at full-force. A moonflower in bloom. It scared you sometimes, how much power you had over him. Everyday you woke up and hoped you deserved it.

Atsumu leaned in again, kissed you again, and you were distantly brought back to your conversation with Osamu, to the concern and curiosity in his eyes.

"You're really not worried? Seriously?"

Atsumu's tongue slipped into your mouth, and any last bit of thought was wiped clean.

You weren’t worried. You really, really weren’t.

x : APOLOGY ACCEPTED :*+ﾟ

in which: isagi doesn't like it when you give him the silent treatment.

warnings: 1.9k wc, gn!reader, fluff with a little angst, ooc!isagi (i tried), mentions of manhandling, sleepy isagi, mentions to arguments. food.

a/n: I FEEL ILL REREADING THIS why is this so bad hELP. for being the main character, it's hard asf to get good manga panels of isagi lol. anyways. enjoy this shit piece xx i can't believe this is my first isagi fic and i did him so wrong, i'm so sorry cri

“y/n?” echoes a voice from down the hallway, one laced with grogginess and fatigue, paired with the gentle padding of footsteps trudging their way to where you resided in the living room. in your periphery, isagi rounds the corner shirtless and messy bedhair, and not sparing him a glance proved itself a challenge. 

usually, you would’ve sprung up from your seat and greeted him good morning, but the soreness of your throat is a harsh reminder of the argument you had last night, and thinking too hard about it would press into the bruises of your ego, resurfacing awkward and sour feelings. yet, you still had to fight to contain the butterflies in your stomach upon seeing him and it becomes harder to fight when you realise that the first thing isagi did since waking up was find you, not even brushing his teeth or putting on a shirt. 

as adorable as he was, you don’t know what to say to him, unsure of where you stood since you both just went to bed last night, the problem never resolving itself. 

isagi’s face however, upon seeing you, lit up with a smile as bright as a thousand suns and endearing enough to crumble your resolve but you persevere with your tough facade. the true stake to the heart is the way his face drops when noticing your reluctance to acknowledge him. 

"y/n?" he asks again as greeting, waddling over to stand before you. you still don't look up at him from your phone. "why are you awake so early?"

silence.

"y/n?" prods the soccer star who now seats himself beside you, hand shaking yours a little in hopes of getting your attention. "you're mad at me, aren't you?"

you don’t know how to respond, remaining silent despite the countless words brewing in your mind that were unable to spill over to form a sentence. should you be nice? mean? petty? you could never have the heart to do the latter two, but-

"-i'm sorry," he mutters, placing his chin on your shoulder so he could give you his best puppy-dog eyes. you don’t react, no matter how hard you had to fight to not look at him because you knew that if you did, you’d crumble right into his arms. 

you miss the way his frown deepens with every shake of your shoulder that you ignore.

“you know i don’t like it when people ignore me.”

despite your cold shoulder, he still lingers around you, just now fast asleep after prying a spot on your lap for his head to fit, disturbing your peace with his hesitant invasion. naturally, you run your hands through his raven hair, lounging in the morning sun with your phone in one hand and your soccer sensation of a boyfriend in your lap.

eventually, the tranquillity is ruined alongside the urge to use the bathroom, but the difficult part of said task however, was getting isagi off your lap which turned out to be a carefully organised operation. gently lifting his head, you manage to shuffle away before laying him back down. somehow you manage to keep him from rousing, leaving you to tiptoe away without making much noise.

you went as far as you could because when you opened the bathroom door againÇ, isagi was lingering outside, slumber still evident in his face as he blinks sleepily at you. so much for leaving without waking him.

“oh. hi,” he greets, voice still ridden with sleep. he rubs his eye innocently, streaks of his nap engrained on his skin. 

he grumbles a sleepy murmur of your name as you slip away around him, giving isagi the chance to latch on to your waist. this wasn’t the silent treatment you were imagining, but you have half a mind and even less of a desire to shrug your boyfriend off, no matter how difficult your predicament is. 

“i need to brush my teeth,” the athlete mutters, dragging you into the bathroom with him. “we can do skincare together.”

you don’t have it in you to tell isagi that you’ve already done your morning routine so you settle for doing it a second time. not like it’ll hurt anyone, especially not your skin.

wordlessly, you do your morning routine alongside him and it’s oddly peaceful without the usual talking and music in the background. you get more of a chance to admire isagi and his boyish features, shyly looking away from his gaze every time his eyes meet yours in the bathroom mirror. after putting away all the products, you don’t move very far before the dark-haired latches himself to you again.

he remains like that even as you continue with chores and tasks you assigned yourself, deciding that there’s no place he’d rather be than half-asleep behind you whilst you sort through laundry, organise your drawers, and fix organise the kitchen cabinets. he’s gracious enough to help a little, holding spices and cans here and there.

if you tried to shake him off, isagi would grumble and come right back, never straying too far away for too long.

his insistence to stay like this was endearing, but very irritating, especially it was hindering your productive. however, your will to scold him for it is at an all-time low so you’ll have to continue living with another being wrapped around you until isagi gives up or you tell him off.

you didn’t have to wait long for the latter. after you were done with organising- or rather when isagi was fed up of standing, he drags you right back to your shared bedroom, silently arranging the two of you on your shared bed with his strength, moving you into a comfortable position under the duvet. 

“please stop,” you demand quietly as if you were silent enough, you wouldn’t technically break the silent treatment.

he immediately perks up at the sound of your voice and his name on your lips, a wide smile breaking out on his face. “babe!” isagi flops on you, the ‘oof’ that escapes you not going unnoticed, “you talked.”

“isagi, please give me some space.”

the smile on the soccer player’s face completely melts away and he furrows his eyebrows, causing guilt to strike you in the heart as he reluctantly moves away from you. the use of his last name in comparison to his usual, affectionate-filled nicknames didn’t soften the blow directed at him either. 

“is this because of last night?” he asks, resting his chin on your sternum. “i’m sorry about everything that i said.”

“isagi,” he stops rambling. “please, i just need some space right now.” 

“okay, i’m sorry. i’ll go now.”

he shuffles out from under the covers rather quickly, picking up a shirt from his closet before walking out with it half-on. you call out his name only to hear the front door slam close and you wince slightly at the sound, guilt weighing heavily on your heart.

when you said you needed space you didn’t mean for isagi to leave the apartment completely.

if you had set your boundaries clearer this morning maybe you could have avoided this scenario. now isagi’s out of the house and you don’t know where he’s even going or when he’s returning and the thought is enough to scare you, riddling you with enough anxiety for your heart to sink to your feet. it’s getting hard to breathe too and your mind is racing with countless thoughts that all pile on top of each other.

texting isagi was a flunk too, he left his phone at home and only took his wallet. 

what did you do? what time would he be back? 

could he have gone to bachira’s? nagi’s? without his phone though? isagi wouldn’t usually go very far without a device at the very least. maybe he’s just out for a walk to clear his mind. yeah, that sounds right, isagi loves walks after all so who knows when he’ll be back. speaking of walking, you might benefit from one right now too-

“-i’m home!” a voice shouts out, breaking you out of your funk like hammer shattering a glass.

practically running out of the bedroom, you disregard the shards of hurt, running over them to see isagi staring at you with wide eyes. he holds a bakery bag and a bouquet of flowers- your favourites, in one hand and the apartment keys in the other.

“oh, y/n, are you okay?” he asks fondly, setting the bag down on the kitchen counter before wandering over to you. without thinking, you reel him in to a hug when he’s close enough, half jumping onto him as the soccer player catches you effortlessly, surprised by your sudden show of affection. “i thought you were mad at me?”

“you scared me, you doofus,” you say into his shoulder with a watery laugh, relief flooding your body like no other at the feeling of his warmth against yours again. “don’t just leave like that ever again.”

“i’m sorry! i wanted to say sorry because of how big of a dick i was to you last night and this morning.”

“you left so abruptly! i thought i angered you even more or something,” you laugh, all watery and emotional. 

isagi snakes a hand up to your face, cradling it. “that wasn’t my intention, i didn’t mean to scare you.”

“apology accepted and i’m sorry too. i was mean to you last night as well and i should have communicated properly with you this morning. wasn’t fair on my end.”

“apology accepted,” he says with a charmingly boyish grin. you have an urge to kiss it off. “i love you.”

“you make it so hard to stay mad at you. i love you too,” you mutter before isagi’s pressing his lips to yours, pouring all his love for you to breathe in, filling you with reassurance. you smile against him, unable to contain it, which then causes him to mimic you, and the kiss breaks away because the two of you are laughing too much. 

isagi will be the death of you. 

your eyes glance behind him and the striker follows your line of sight. “i got your favourite cake too by the way, last one the bakery had. guess i’m one lucky guy, huh?”

“the stars aligned perfectly just for you.” 

“i agree,” mutters isagi before leaning in to leave a kiss on your forehead. 

“should we have some cake now?” you question, loosening your arms around him to back away and  faltering when he doesn’t let you. his grip around your waist is tight and unforgiving as mischief shines in the dark-haired’s eyes.

then, he pulls you right back, peppering your face in endless kisses whilst you giggle in response to each one. the more he plants the more you want to pull away out of reflex but his hold forbid for you to travel too far, leaving you vulnerable to all of his advances.

“i love you,” he repeats with each press against your skin.

“yoichi, stop!” you giggle. the sound is a remedy to his pain.

“can’t stop, i have a whole day of affection to make up for.”

you shove his shoulder teasingly, “later.”

“later. i’ll never make you mad again, i swear. that was the worst day of my life. next time you do this, i’d rather you end me.”

✦ — 18. CLOSURE

dream flashbacks have always irritated you. because waking up after having one typically leaves you with the same exact feeling of pain as when you initially had it. the pain you felt when he chose to let go, in this circumstance.

heaving as you sit upright with dried tears staining your cheeks, you wake up in your all too familiar bedroom, alone.

then, the hangover kicks in.

"ah!" you hunch over and hold your forehead in pain. you feel nauseated, but it's bearable.

you spend the next few minutes whimpering to yourself as you feel your head spin inside your skull.

you don't hear the bedroom door open or the footsteps approaching.

"drink this." slim hands place a tray of water and some meds on the bedside table.

your head snaps up almost immediately after hearing the voice. this causes your head to throb more.

a sigh. "take it easy."

while trying to recover from the pain, you speak meekly, "ano ginagawa mo rito?"

he took a while to respond, "i drove you home after the party," he says. "and before you start jumping to conclusions, walang nangyari," he adds quickly.

ah, right. nag-inuman nga pala kagabi.

you hide a scoff. you hate how well he still knows you after all this time.

bits and pieces of last night come back to you. the disco lights, music, dance floor, kazuha's stunt, the confrontation, passing out... after that, you have no recollection of anything.

"that doesn't answer my question. bakit ka nandito?" in front of me, is what you implied.

as he looks at you, he has an indescribable expression on his face.

“drink first," he says, gesturing towards the tray.

as much as it infuriates you that he's bossing you around in your own house, you really need to do something about the headache, so you silently take the medicine.

as you drink down the water, several things go through your mind. your pulse beats quicker as you consider all the things he may say in the next few minutes. it’s most likely the one thing you’ve been asking him for the past year.

placing the tray back on the bedside table, you take a deep breath and look him in the eye. he's been observing you carefully ever since he entered the room.

"feel better?" he asks.

"get to the point, de vera," you command.

"right." he sucks in a breath, as if nervous, but it doesn't show on his face. "an explanation," he mutters.

you let out a humorless laugh, waiting for him to say anything. you try your hardest to make it seem like you're uninterested in what he has to say, making a show of not caring anymore, but you know deep inside that it's all in vain. you do care, and it shows.

he looks at you straight in the eye, serious and determined. he takes his time thinking of the proper words to say and where to start. you keep your silence the whole time.

"last year," he begins. "my sister was diagnosed with a severe vascular condition that needed operation. a high risk one," he reveals.

audibly gasping at this revelation, you reflexively inch closer to him in surprise.

“ano? si ate ei? bakit wala akong narinig tungkol dito? walang sinabi si miko?" you search his eyes for signs of lying or mirth, but you see none.

he sighs, "it was something we agreed not to disclose to anyone except close family."

ah. that hurts. “eh si jax?”

kuni nods silently, guilt flashing in his eyes.

he told jax but not you.

"seems like people love to keep things from me," you dryly state.

"don't be mad at them. ako nagpilit sa kanila na itago sa'yo."

"bakit?"

"...we'll get to that," he says.

"kamusta na si ate?" his sister was usually busy, so you weren't as close to ei as you are to miko, but she accepted you warmly when he introduced you to her and has even offered assistance in the past. you genuinely regret not being there to support her when she needed it.

"there were some complications during the surgery, pero okay na siya ngayon. she fully healed and is back to work," he explains.

you sigh in relief, "that's good." he hums in agreement.

with the initial worry and surprise gone, questions flood your head. "ano kinalaman ng lahat na 'to sa ginawa mo?"

so his sister got sick and decided that you weren’t a priority anymore and discarded you with no explanation whatsoever?

"you know our situation, don't you? we have no parents, si ate lang nagtratrabaho para sa'ming dalawa. then, she suddenly got sick."

"and?”

kuni swipes his hair back and lets out a breath, "we struggled financially trying to pay the hospital bills, along with other expenses. tumulong si ate miko, pero kulang. i had to catch all the responsibility and took on multiple jobs."

late replies, missed calls, cancelled plans, stood up dates— "that's why i saw you less."

"that's why you saw me less," he repeats regretfully.

it still doesn't make sense to you. "why would you keep something like that from me?" you could've supported him. you would've supported him.

you'd have understood where he came from.

did he not trust you?

"i..." kuni falls silent. hesitant. he had an honest reason for everything that had transpired then. but he's done. he no longer has a clear justification for doing those things and leaving you hanging. it was all due of his cowardice.

"i didn't want you to see me in such a state," he admits.

you suck in a breath, feeling your eyes burn. "that’s stupid. that doesn't make sense."

"i know," he agrees. "i know, [name]. pero alam kong 'pag nakita mo akong ganon, gagawin mo ring problema 'yon—"

"of course i would’ve! nag-iisip ka ba? kuni, i loved you. sino ba'ng 'di tutulong 'pag nakikita mong naghihirap yung taong mahal mo?" you reason out. tears start to well up in your eyes.

"i didn't want you to get caught up in my problems. you already had many of your own then, [name]."

bullshit.

"yet you added to it? even with your reason, you still could've told me!” you throw your arms up in frustration. “at least i would've understood what happened. hindi yung ako lang naiiwan na walang alam! was i not that important to you?" you sniff, aggressively, wiping your tears away.

kuni gently holds your arm to prevent you from hurting yourself. "that's not it. you are important. hindi ko alam anong iniisip ko noon."

are.

you scoff.

"that's why i'm sorry, [name]," he apologizes. he keeps your hand in place and draws circles on it with his thumb. "my reasons are stupid, i know. i had multiple opportunities to tell you the truth pero naduwag ako. in every single one."

silent tears continue to stream down your face. you scold yourself internally for letting down your guard in front of him.

you stay quiet.

"it's not that easy to forgive, i know that more than anyone. and i don't expect you to," he admits. "but i want to make it up to you, even if you don't want me to."

you stare at your bed sheets, silently contemplating on his words. if there's one word to describe your current state of mind, it's confused. it takes you a moment to respond.

"hindi ko pa alam kung ano ba dapat isipin ko." you sniff and glare at him through tearful eyes. "right now, i just don't want to see your face."

"…understood," kuni nods. he lets go of your hand and stands up from his seat. before he starts walking out of the door, he turns to you, pursing his lips. "may pagkain sa hapag. eat it before it gets cold, alright?"

he doesn't wait for your answer and exits out of the bedroom door. leaving you all alone, still clutching your healing heart.

you got the explanation that you wanted, the closure that was way overdue.

but why is it that it only made you yearn for him more?

✦ MAYBE, MAYBE — PREV / MASTERLIST / NEXT

A break up with no proper closure. So many words left unsaid. He did you so wrong, but you can’t bring yourself to hate him. One year na, siya pa rin. Maybe it’s time to move on?

NOTE long time no update haha i apologize we were bombarded with tasks for the past two weeks, kahit ngayon nga T--T i got stuck with this chapter lang coz it's a written one and i didn't have time to finish it. i hate that this chapter’s quality is a little bit ehh since it’s rushed but it’ll do. i’m burnt out rn so it’s gonna take me a while to recover. since the next few chaps are gonna be socmed lang, hopefully updates will be more frequent 🤞

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likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

imagine staying alive so u could see bsd and jjk to the end, just so gege and asagiri can go and pull the shit they did in the last chapters😭😭 #makethempayfortherapy

likes/reposts are highly appreciated

𝙄𝙩’𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩-𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨

Rei Sakuma x GN reader x Ritsu Sakuma sibling hcs (platonic ofc)

cws: none

notes: forgive me for writing so many hc posts lately 😭😭 school has been beating me up

two famous and successful idols

who happen to be both of your brothers

and coincidentally, always in competition with each other

it would be an interesting experience to say the least… but of course, like every other siblings, you guys do get into a lot of fights 😭

the fights are usually between rei and ritsu though lol

you’ll always be the one to break the fight

other than that, they’re really sweet!

rei likes to listen to you ramble about mundane topics

i also like to think that he’s always the one to buy you desserts or maybe some trinkets as little gifts

please keep his presents carefully 🙏 that’s kind of his way to say that he cares for you

ritsu on the other hand likes physical touch and quality (nap) time

he sometimes brings you around places to look for mao or just to find a place to sleep

ritsu does NOT like it when you hang out with rei and would pull you away if he feels like you’ve been hanging around him for too long

he cannot have his favorite sibling giving someone else more attention 💀

but anyways, whenever the bros have concerts, just seeing you in the crowd gives them more confidence and motivation

you’ll always be cheering them on! no matter the circumstances

they’re your brothers and you wouldn’t trade them for anything (i hope)

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣

rainy days with Trickstar heacannons (GN reader)

cws: none

notes: it has been raining a lot. so why not make some hcs??? (i hope someone noticed an NCT lyric as the title)

𝙃𝙤𝙠𝙪𝙩𝙤 𝙃𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙠𝙖

i feel like he’d stare at the sky for a while before realizing that it rained lol

but when it finally started sprinkling, he would pull you by the wrist to go find shelter quickly

you guys settled at a small cafe, ordered some drinks and just chatted while watching the rainfall

if you started to feel cold, he’d give you his jacket cause he’s such a gentleman <3

hokuto would definitely scold you if you decided to go out and play in the rain because bro did NOT want you sick

even if you getting sick meant that he could spend more time with you…

but in case he foresaw that it would rain, you two would just be walking under an umbrella while you hold onto his arm

then suddenly you guys are walking in slow-mo while music starts to play

just like a k drama fr

kidding on that last part… hehe

𝙎𝙪𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙪 𝘼𝙠𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙝𝙞

you two would definitely play in the rain… it’ll be his idea

subaru would get really excited when it rains too! he likes to look at the pathways and roads that became shiny and glossy from the rain

he’d also try to catch some raindrops on his hands as well

you guys would probably run to the nearest playground and just hang out on the swings while you watch it rain

and maybe even chase each other as well it would be super duper fun

if you didn’t feel like playing out in the rain, he’d probably bring you to a small place with shelter to just admire the precipitation and well… to just talk about idol work and stuff

needless to say, even if you did play in the rain, both of you would definitely get sick and just cuddle and nap to pass time

it was both of your guys’ fault…

he initiated and you agreed

(worth it)

𝙈𝙖𝙤 𝙄𝙨𝙖𝙧𝙖

another guy who would be distracted to realize that it was raining

just when it started POURING

mao would take off his jacket and cover both you and himself with it while just running to his house or a nearby shop

but let’s say you two reached his house

both you and mao would be totally drenched, poor you having no clothes to change into

so… he’d hesitantly offer you some of his own clothes for you to get into while he gives you a hair dryer to blow your hair

mao would also offer you snacks to eat while you both just watch TV or the downpour that caused you to get stuck here with him

if it’s getting late and you didn’t want to go back, there is a chance that he’d let you stay for the night! (my heart can’t take this)

in conclusion, rainy days with mao can be really fun

you two were just stuck to each other for a whole day basically

𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙤𝙩𝙤 𝙔𝙪𝙪𝙠𝙞

makoto would know if it would rain or not

bro always checks the weather before leaving the house istg

if theres more than a fifty percent chance of raining, makoto would bring his umbrella juussttt in case

then the sky started raining 💀

he opened the umbrella quickly while you two continued to walk to your destination where makoto just hold you tight with one arm while holding the umbrella in the other <3

it would be so romantic ngl

(another k drama moment)

once you get to your stop, you two would just carry on with your day as normal while he just wipes his glasses with his shirt because I KNOW there would be some droplets on water that got on the lenses

you’d just admire the no-glasses makoto in front of you

he’d be so confused why you’d just be staring at him lol

10/10 experience i love him

im the friend ,, wheres preggy rinne /j

𝙈𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙨, 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧-𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙨

rinne amagi and hiiro amagi as your brother figures (platonic + GN reader)

notes: this was requested by one of my friends shout out to them 🙏

warnings: none

very interesting combo i must say!!!

rinne would be the life of the party for real

i think he’d be really fun to hang out with because of his playful personality

he cares for you as much as he cares for his brother, even if you two aren’t blood related

hiiro is the same too, but he’s just more shy

he still tries to act as a good friend and a good brother to you

i headcannon that you and the amagis like to have fun nights playing with cards and board games

(cue rinne almost flipping the table over after being jailed in monopoly)

goofiness aside, they both really care for you and would both take bullets to protect you

is someone bothering you? they’d be gone in a matter of seconds with the amagis around

even with all of this, you and hiiro would still occasionally scold rinne and his gambling addiction

i think there would be some casual fights between siblings blood related or not

it would be so funny to gang up with one of the siblings then start playfully attacking the other

with their idol work, you’d be there to help them with stress or with anything backstage while they preform

the amagis and you both know that deep down, you guys will always be each other’s number one fan

(i feel like rinne would want you to dye your hair red and get contacts, if you don’t already have blue eyes, to match with them 😭)

ending on that note, having the amagis as your brother figures would be filled with so many surprises

they’ll always be there for you, and i hope you will always be there for them

sae & rin itoshi with a neglected reader part 2 / part 1 ! ✧　　⁺　➥　heavy themes, gn!reader dies, delusions, bad writing, death is accidental, not proof read

"a weird one - unlike any of the brothers" "i agree, they seem desperate" "must've been hard to be overshadowed" "hush !! if you say it that loud they might h-" SLAM

it was so bad that many people were gawking at the sight, the troubled child of the itoshi family had just punched someone. straight in the face - your knuckles where white as you kept clenching on them, shaking and their face was red. it was so bad that many people were gawking at the sight, the troubled child of the itoshi family had just punched someone. straight in the face - your knuckles where white as you kept clenching on them, shaking and their face was red.

your parents were disappointed. they gave you everything you had and you had the audacity to harm someone over some small words? maybe you are the black sheep of the family. "You need to learn how to control your anger and ..." the tears prevented you from hearing properly, words igniting a deep fire in your heart. you wanted to run away, so fast, away but something was holding you back. your neck felt like it was pinched by thorns - your eyes were hurting. "we're off." your parents stood up and walked to the door. was this abandonment? why was this scene so familiar before? it was the same hair color, walking together out of that damn door and leaving you behind - for a moment you manage to raise up your hand and tried to call out to them. "sae....rin" where are they?

life was seemingly getting better, you wore the same clothes everyday, looked at the same things everyday, ate the same things everyday. walking along the grassy fields, you don't know where you were, your legs hurt and you were dazed, the fire in your heart growing more larger by the second. it was a hot day. water. you needed water. where's water? those words seemingly registered in your brain and your exhausted legs took you to a place where it felt oh so similar. oh. it was a public pool, how nice - exactly where water was. the sounds of whirring were surrounding you. in the middle of the pool, was sae and rin in their floaties. wait. sae and rin ? really ? they looked at you with warming eyes and waved their hands at you - beckoning you to come over. you jumped into the pool. so this is where they were. you don't even question it, you were happily playing the water with your brothers - when has life ever been this relaxing? for some reason, it felt truly good to be in the water this time - that fire in your heart has been such a bother, the water in the pool dimmed it immediately.

sae never thought he was a bad brother, he just thought he had too little time. he saw your texts, saw your glances, saw you liking his every post on social ( wait he knows your user ? ) but tough luck - he doesn't know how to respond to all of this. he was devastated when the awkward relationship with rin started, he just never thought caring for your feelings.

sae doesn't know anything but football. he wants to tell you he cares and that you will always be the very best sibling he could ever have, even up until now he collects and favourites every image of the two of you together, some with rin too maybe.

to properly explain his love for you, is like this : he loves you, he really does, and he wishes he could have more time for you.

rin is so not aware of his actions - he thought that sae was being a good brother to you so he automatically assumes you have an awkward assumption about him too.

rin thinks, that sae is doing the part of brother and sister with you, without needing him. and it hurts him, he wouldn't admit it though. it hurts to have sae throw their dreams out the window and now he wants to hog all your attention too.

he thinks he's doing the most, sae has your time and he will never be able to fit in the picture. after all - only the best footplay player can properly protect such an innocent person.

it was when sae and rin walked to the beach - not expecting to see each other. oh well, they could just do a mean little bump, a hi and walk along.

when their shoulders were about to meet each other, sae suddendly stopped walking which makes rin glance over and sae tugs his arm - tightly. what? "there's somebody jumping off the bridge." sae said, a bit shakily. rin turns his head back. "is that-" rin stops. and the both of them dashed. sae called the ambulance and rin went over to the edge of the beach, trying to figure out what he just saw. he was so certain it was you, but why would it to be you? you had no reason too, right? "..." your body was gently carried out of the dark sea, not very hard to find you considering all you did was plunge down into the water. rin's body was numb, he couldn't control his limbs, he fell down. sae tried to dash over to your cold body but the authorities stopped him and told him to back away. never has he ever felt so desperate, such want for something. but.. don't you look a little weird? your clothes were tattered, rashes and bruises were placed all over your body, it was like you were abandoned on the streets. "i thought you were looking after them" rin stated - not questioning, just a statement. "isn't it the other way around?" sae replied back, wanting to push the blame onto rin. there was no way this had happened. he refused to admit that his lack of attention to you caused this. it had to be someone, rin maybe. "there's no point in being the best at something, if you cannot bested your feelings" rin spat out, pushing the blame back. sae is the oldest, right? he should have taken care of you. both of them stared at each other's gazes you were playing water with them, with cool floaties the blame wasn't pushed anymore, it was divided within their hearts you went to get a hot chocolate with marshmellows, rin and sae having energy drinks the blame was so heavy they felt the sting, feeling the coldness of your body on their faces you went home with sae and rin, hand in hand

sae and rin never recovered. the nights were as cold as a dead body. sometimes sae cried and cried, rin suddenly sharing a room with his brother again, cried too - never stopped until the morning where the sun rises and dries off the water. was this also how you felt? texts were answered years later but no responses. "i thought you were looking after them." "i thought i did enough." "what if-" "there are no what ifs anymore." silence followed. then sniffles and tears.

your room collected dust overtime, the curtains covering up your window perfectly - to block off any nosy people. sae sometimes goes inside your room, sits on the floor. rin would silently knock on the door, hoping someone would open it. sometimes, rin would find sae sitting on the floor and joins him too - as they dream of another day

a/n : for further explanation - reader was abandoned by their parents and they left reader alone, thus why eat drink and wear the same thing. they were in a state of delusion and their legs instinctively took them to the sea where they often gazed with sae and rin. even at their last moments they really loved sae and rin so ya & i found a nice discord username finally omg im happy w this one

bodies should never ever hurt when i’m trying to sleep. like girl literally just turn off. that’s enough

woah mama!!!

empty can

genre: hurt, comfort

character: itoshi rin

A/N: i dont even watch blue lock bruh but HELLOOOO theyre all so fine so let me write ooc fics pleeeeessse.. i got reminded of the kdrama so take an its ok to not be ok inspired blurb :3

it was cold.

when did it start raining? the concrete is wet.. you’re slipping over your own steps. the shoes you held on your left were dripping too. it’s still really cold.

since when was rin so mean?

well, he was always a little cold to everyone, but it always felt different when you were with him. the way his tense shoulders relax slightly around you, the way his voice goes quieter and slower when speaking to you, the way….

his words replayed in your head as you walked down the empty side walk on the freeway.

‘you don’t know anything about me so don’t act like it. you’re so loud all the time but you don’t even know how you feel towards me.’

oh well, maybe he wasn’t as gentle to you as you remembered. maybe he was always that mean and you were a little too loud.

‘you won’t understand me until the day you die.’

maybe you were silly to think that there was a chance of him liking you a little too, even if that just meant tolerating your presence. he was right— it’s not like you liked him because you knew everything about him.

‘you’re like an empty can, just loud and empty inside.’

fuck, when did it get so cold? the biting winds and heavy rain were starting to take a toll on your body. the bright sky that initially welcomed your grievances had quickly turned into a sea of stars, silently watching over your lonesome self. you’ve been walking for a while— it hurt.

he was right. you are empty. being rejected by him didn’t hurt but the fact that he’d never chase after you like you did to him was a realization that made you fucking nauseous. were you so unlovable?

it was loud too. the dark horizon stretched for miles and not a single soul was accompanying you. so why was there a car racing down the road behind you?

“y/n!”

it was him. you stopped in your pathetic tracks and stopped to watch him rush out of the driver’s seat towards you. he was fumbling an umbrella in his hands but rather than using it, he opened it and held it over your head uselessly. your gaze remained on his hand.

“you.. it’s.. really late y’know..?” his words were breathless and strained. his voice was never like this with you before. he was trembling too but.. that was probably from the rain. “please just.. get inside the car.”

his shoulders were tense and rigid. his statements were rushed and urgent. this rin was new.

“are you okay?”

“w..what?”

“you look stressed. and you shouldn’t be out here at this time.. why are you here, rin?”

you desperately wanted to look at his face; what expression did he have on right now? what was he feeling? but it felt difficult to even be near him.

“stressed? i’m.. god. y/n please.” he was still shaking you noticed. “please.”

there was a lighthouse nearby and it’s soft light slowly turned in the night. you never knew how emotional rin could get.

“rin, ì don’t know what you want from me.”

“please..”

the pavement you two stood on began to be washed over by a yellow glow and everything that was shrouded by the night was now visible. you looked up at rin’s face and he met your gaze with his own. his usual jade eyes were glassy and his lower lashes were wet, and you knew it wasn’t rain.

oh.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i don’t..” now you knew he was shaking with fear and regret. “don’t get sick out here. you can yell or hit me, just not out here.” you watched his chest fall and rise quickly before you felt his hand grab your shoulder. he was pleading for your forgiveness.

“just come back with me.. okay..?”

“did you chase after me?”

he rested his head on your shoulder.

“i just.. was scared. and i missed you. or.. i.. i wanted to apologize. i didn’t mean it. i’m the one who doesn’t understand their own emotions. even right now, i don’t know what i’m saying. all i know is you and the fact that you’re out here soaked and alone and.. it’s my fault.”

itoshi rin was sobbing on your shoulder.

“i’ve never understood myself around you. you make me feel like.. the moon quietly watching the violent waves. and sometimes it’s the other way around like.. like right now. i’ve never..”

you felt your heart hurting and you touched his back. never did you think he’d be the one running after you. the emptiness that filled you all day started becoming engulfed by rin’s embrace and tears. the lighthouse shifted and you two were once more left in the dark. you closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“are you driving me back to your place..?”

rin let go of you and gave you a look of hope. he wrapped his pinky around yours and gently tugged you to follow him into his car.

“yeah. stay with me for the night. i’ll take care of you.”

maybe you were a little empty. but you knew that comforting feeling in your stomach as you stared at his back and hand guiding you, and you knew that he felt it too.

—𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 ?

ft. itoshi sae

summary : seeing you so sleepy sae let you rest for a while in his lap, until him speaking with someone on his phone woke you up...

warnings : none! f!reader, and a bit suggestive towards the end

"yeah, I'm doing good, really."

you slowly fluttered your eyelids open as you heard sae speak on the phone. you wanted to reach to rub your eyes so you would push the sleepy feeling away but you tried squeezing your brain harder to figure out what was happening.

a low chuckle escaped your boyfriend’s lips as you quickly closed your eyes again scared you'd be caught.

you two were seated on the couch, sae's lap being your new pillow, facing away from his delicious abdomen.

you remember mumbling something about being tired and the next moment you were pulled in his embrace, his fingers gently caressing your hair lulling you to sleep in mere moments.

as you peaked an eye open, realizing you're safe, you saw that he was answering some emails—known person business as you liked to call it, but the call went on as you squeezed your eyes shut trying to figure out who was sae talking to.

was he cheating on you? that thought alone made your heart drop, than race like you ran a few marathons. but that would be wrong. who would be stupid enough to call their side chick while having their girlfriend in their lap? and also, who would put up with your grumpy boyfriend? only you can do that. but clearly sae wasn’t an idiot, he knows better than doing such a thing in front of you.

his hand found its way on your head again and you froze. he was no mind reader right?

"she's okay mom. she's sleeping right now."

oh. he was talking with his mom all along, there was nothing to worry about. why would you? he's a loyal man, he gives you comfort, love and well...presents. he's the best and you mentally scolded yourself for having such a thoughts.

even if you now could've just pretended nothing happened and go back to dreamland, this interaction was a rare thing you got to witness. sure you do visit his family and stay over for dinner, but most of the time is you talking with his parents while he patiently listens, he rarely decides to add something to your conversation.

"I know, I know you wanted to say hi." sae sighed as he stopped playing with your hair. he leaned over to continue typing the said emails, and suddenly the room got a little too warm in the small proximity. he was your boyfriend, yours, but you still felt like you had a crush on him.

"okay, we'll be there. what? mom..."

sae's voice was getting hard to interpret and you furrowed your browns in concentration trying to listen to him and his mother talking on the other line.

"take good care of the girl!"

"mom I will. I promised you."

"I swear if you ever hurt her or she complains to me about you, you're never seeing the light of day ever again!" you heard his mom threatening him and you tried to muffle your giggles.

sae whined at the words "mom, please. I'm not planning to. I would want you to scold me too if I ever cause her the slightest bit of pain."

now he got to your soft side with that. he would never tell you that face to face but...he was sober right? or maybe it was his mom and he could tell her anything.

"tell dad I said hi okay? [name] too. alright, mhm see you on Friday."

after the call ended sae threw his phone on the coffee table like he was getting rid of a headache.

it was time to put an end to your act so with a fake yawn you turned to get up being greeted with a sae that had his head thrown back covering his face with his hands.

"mornin' sae!" you giggled rubbing your eyes, leaning in to kiss his covered cheek.

he peaked thru his fingers at you, then again covered those perfect features of his.

“...what’s wrong?” you started raising a brow at his weird behavior.

“don’t act all innocent on me. you heard everything.” he said now finally looking at you. you were now wide awake as his words felt like ice cold water being thrown on you face.

“no I didn’t.” you could give denying a shot right?

“liar”

damn it, you’ve been caught red handed. dropping your head you’ve put on your best convincing smile.

“soooo dinner on Friday right-?”

oh well the details could wait, now sae was busy smashing his lips on yours, his hands traveling all over your body leaving goosebumps behind.

a/n : I’M SORRY IF THIS IS BAD:<

tag list : @mellozhi @sttarzxx @angelchigiri @17020 @rroxii @yunxbin @haesungie

© 2023 STRAWBERRYPOCKYBOX do not copy, edit or repost in any other platform

"kaiser?" you call from the bathroom, searching the cabinet with an urgency that easily tells him you started getting ready a little too late this morning. "are we out of pimple patches?"

he leans against the doorway, watching you with an easy smile on his face. "yep, i used 'em all."

"what? there were still 5 left when i last checked though?"

"yeah, i'm breaking out," he shrugs. "it's a tragedy."

you whip your head in his direction, a deep frown setting in your brows. "no, you're not, you liar."

"just take a look if you don't believe me."

"where?!" you demand, taking a step closer to approach him. you lean into his face, leaning so close that he can feel your warm breath against his cheek, only to find nothing but perfectly smooth, acne-free skin. you realize too late that it's just another one of his ploys and kaiser quickly turns his head to plant a loud, wet kiss on your cheek.

"haha! gotcha!"

you wipe your face with the back of your hand, clearly unimpressed. "you could've just said you wanted a kiss.”

"and where's the fun in that, darling?"

but kaiser's shenanigans don't stop there. as soon as you have your back to him again, he inches forward to wrap his arms around you, binding you so tightly that you can't even squirm in his hold.

"kaiser, let go," you giggle, your body swaying left to right thanks to his playful maneuvers.

"stop getting ready," he mumbles, now burying his face in the space where your shoulder meets your neck. "don't go. don't leave me."

"i have to," you whine, finally breaking free of his hold and attempting to resume your skincare routine sans pimple patches. kaiser, who doesn’t know what it means to give up, still latches onto you like a leech, this time snaking his arm around your waist so as not to disturb you getting ready.

"where are you even going so early?" he pouts.

you catch his eyes in the mirror. "i literally told you last night."

"i forgot."

"you weren't listening."

"maybe that too."

"typical."

"nah, i'm just joking. you're seeing your mom."

"why do i even put up with you..." you ask yourself, holding back a sigh.

"because you love me. anyway, can i come? i wanna see your mom. she loves me too."

"no, that's exactly why you can't. i'm not gonna spend my saturday morning having breakfast with my mom only to listen to her she gush about you."

"aw, you're scared she loves me more than you?"

"no way, she's my mom," you say immediately, but then you pause, and ponder the possibility for a moment that she does, actually, like kaiser more than you.

kaiser raises his brow with that knowing look on his face. "you sure about that?"

"stop making me doubt my own mother."

"it's okay, if she doesn't love you as much, i can make up for it."

"no, you can't."

"of course i can. the whole world isn’t enough to hold my love for you, darling,” he says, his tone slightly more serious this time. then, he rests his chin on your shoulder, tightening his grip around your waist ever so slightly. “when are you gonna be back?”

“i’ll be back for lunch.” you can’t help but soften when he does, and kaiser breathes in deep, catching the scent of lavender soap on your skin before placing an innocent kiss against your collarbone. “i won’t be too long, mihya, i promise.”

“…fine. i’ll be waiting for you.”

“i know.”

“don’t take too long,” he adds, as if you haven’t already assured him you wouldn’t.

“i won’t,” is all you say, turning your head to kiss his head.

x : LOVE OF A KIND :*+ﾟ

in which: kaiser needs to be reassured that you love him, even if it's just a fraction of how special you are to him.

warnings: 2.3k words, toothrotting fluff and minor angst, kaiser is intoxicated, mentions of alcohol and clubbing, insecure!kaiser, gn!reader, BAD WRITING and ooc!kaiser probably, established relationship, if this flops i will cry. here we love pathetic men.

a/n: fuck you @kruinka for birthing this. actually fuck you. that's the a/n. enjoy whatever this is!

it’s approximately 1am when your phone vibrates violently on the kitchen counter, disturbing the gentle, unrushed ambience of friday evening (or saturday morning) in your apartment. pressing the space bar of your laptop with a lot more force than necessary, the show you were watching pauses as you throw the blankets off you, the chill of the air seeping into your body with each step you take.

noticing the contact name, you accept the call readily, pressing the ‘speaker’ option. immediately, you hear the noise of club music, people singing along and indistinct chatter.

“hello?” you ask, directly into the microphone.

“y/n?” ness’s voice returns.

“hey, what’s up?”

“sorry for bothering you so late. were you about to go to bed?”

“no, actually, i was staying up. something the matter?”

“it’s kaiser,” the brunet-purple-haired boy tells you and your heart drops with anxiety, mind beginning to race with whatever your egotistical, narcissism-driven boyfriend could have got himself into.

probably tried to square up someone far more impressive, for all you know. did he break something? spit in someone’s drink?

“i-it’s nothing bad!” ness reassures, “he’s just asking for you.” 

oh. that’s not so terrible. “okay, but why?”

in the phone’s proximity, you can hear someone stumbling and muttering in the background. there’s an indistinct mumble of your name and ness confirming your presence on the other side of the phone, followed by an excited ‘really?’ from the mystery figure. you find comfort in the fact that you know it’s kaiser before the person even has to announce himself.

“sorry, he’s just asking for you… a lot,” the soccer player informs with a little hesitation.

before you can inquire further about it, kaiser’s voice echoes in the background. “let me talk to y/n!” he sounds faraway, but you can imagine his expression regardless from just the desperately excited tone he has. 

“i can tell,” you chuckle. 

“give me the phone, ness,” kaiser demands. there’s a sentence of complaint from the midfielder and some (aggressive) rustling before you can hear your boyfriend loud and clear. “baby!” he slurs.

“hello, kaiser,” you say, grinning stupidly at the sound of his voice.

“hi beautiful. are you well?” the blond sounds a little clearer now and the music seems to have diminished a little. he must have retreated to a ‘quieter’ corner of the club. 

“as well as i can be at home. what about you?”

“i’m great now that i’m with you,” he murmurs, sounding more melancholy than usual, just ever so slightly. you dismiss the shift by blaming it on the alcohol, but there’s a tug at your gut that tells you that the drinks aren’t the sole reason.

you melt a little. “shouldn’t you be dancing or something? why are you calling me?”

“i love calling you,” he whines. “please don’t hang up.”

“if you’re sure… i’m not too sure that a club is the best place to call though.” 

“i don’t care. so long as i’m with you, anything’s fine.”

you huff, tapping your fingers on the counter, trying not to let his sweetened words get to you. “really though, you should be going back to partying and letting loose-”

“do you not like talking to me?” kaiser whispers. you can practically hear the pout in his tone, imagining the way his shoulders slump defeatedly. funny how such a powerful, influential, and unbreakable character can be reduced to nothing in your grasp. 

you couldn’t ever imagine abusing that power though, not when michael kaiser is the one in the centre of your palm. “i do. i love talking to you, i’m just concerned that you’re not using the time wisely.” 

“i’m wise. i’m super wise. right, babe? tell me i’m wise.”

where you would have played with him a little and strung him along with saccharine sarcasm, a small giggle escapes your lips instead. that would be saved for sober kaiser. “you are, you are,” you reassure, suddenly filled with the urge to see him. 

“thanks babe. i love you,” he whimpers. “please say you love me too.”

furrowing your brows at his uncharacteristic display of neediness and constant gratification, you were beginning to grow concerned at his odd behaviour. sure, kaiser loved to be praised for his skills, but there was something wrong about the athlete tonight. you’ve never heard him beg to be complimented like he is tonight, but with the add-ins of alcohol and whatever else, you don’t know whether to flag this or not.

“kaiser, can you give the phone back to ness?” you ask gently.

he whines, “say you love me too!”

“i’m picking you up, kaiser, give the phone back to ness so i can tell him.”

“will i get to see you?”

“if you give the phone back to ness, you will.”

“really? hang on, babe!” 

there’s a bit more rustling, resembling something that sounds like kaiser pushing through a crowd as he holds the phone in his grip, saying ‘move’ to bypassers in his way. after a short conversation that you can’t pick up between the familiar voices of your boyfriend and his best friend, you hear ness’ voice clearly once again. “hey, everything okay?”

“everything’s fine,” you say, having grabbed your keys and a jacket whilst waiting. “i’m driving over to pick kaiser up, hope that doesn’t inconvenience you guys.”  

“not at all. i’ll send you the location of the club. there are 15 minute parking places just outside.”

“thanks ness, i appreciate it.”

“don’t worry. see you soon.” 

“i’ll let you know when i arrive. tell kaiser to wait for me.”

you hang up after that, not waiting for a farewell from the soccer player as you plug your keys into the ignition, the car revving alive. after a 20 or so minute drive to downtown (the lack of traffic at one am made it so much easier to get there faster), you park at the curbside of the street opposite the club, clambering out of your car to lean against the driver’s door, where you could see the club entrance easily.

after shooting a quick text to ness, you wait patiently for the appearance of your beloved boyfriend, hugging your jacket close to your figure. 

six minutes later, you see them; a shorter figure lugging out a taller one over his shoulder with little struggle. regardless of kaiser’s inebriated position, you could recognise his silhouette anywhere, heart picking up a little as you jog over to the club, feet taking you where your heart wanted to go.

“ness!” you call out. 

upon hearing your voice, kaiser’s head shoots up from where it was drooped, scanning the general vicinity of where you were before he spots you. the smile that lights up on his face is instantaneous; a grin that rivals that of the club lights.

“my love!” he exclaims excitedly, stumbling over to you with surprising accuracy for someone who must have drank his body weight in alcohol. immediately, the athlete wraps you up in his arms, the smell of beer invading your senses as kaiser shields you completely from the outside world. “i’m so happy to see you.”

“i’m happy to see you too.”

after a few seconds of relishing in his warmth and (much-appreciated) silence, you take a mini-step away from him; an action the blond clearly did not take well as he groans, manoeuvring himself to now hug you from the side, head resting against yours as you pulls you towards him possessively.

you wave at ness from where you stood, unable to move with the striker clinging onto you. “thank you, ness. i’m sorry for disturbing your night out, you know how kaiser gets,” you say with a laugh, patting your boyfriend on the back.

“no, thank you for taking care of him. i’m glad he has you.”

“and i’m glad he has you too. you should go back inside, i got it from here.”

he nods, waving after a quick farewell before heading back in, disappearing from sight. sighing, you reposition yourself so that it was comfortable to prop him up against you. 

“hey, handsome, you with me?” cupping his face with both of your hands, he nods in your grip, eyes drooping here and there as he stares down at you with unmatched gentleness and love. you add as a light-hearted joke: “you used to be able to party until the clubs close, what happened?”

he grabs your wrists, holding on to them as he speaks, “you still never said ‘i love you’.” 

“oh,” you laugh, letting the sound spill freely. “my bad-”

“-why are you laughing?”

his question shuts you up, catching you off guard as the laughter diminishes like an extinguished match. uncertainty dances within you like smoke, greying the giddy mood you were previously in from being reunited with him. 

looking him square in the eye, you notice something that you’ve never seen him wear before: insecurity. 

kaiser looks so… abashed. sheepish. dismayed. your chest clenches at the sight, a feeling of protectiveness overwhelming you. 

“what do you mean?” you ask cautiously.

“why are you laughing at me?” repeats the athlete.

“oh kaiser,” brushing a strand of hair behind his ears, you see his frown even clearer. “i’m not laughing at you, it wasn’t meant to be mocking, i was laughing because you’re adorable and that you make me happy.”

he huffs, furrowing his brows. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. is everything okay, love?”

no answer. after a moment of simply standing around, you let it go because maybe it was just the alcohol that was making him act this way. you don’t want to think too hard about it. 

“let’s go home,” you whisper, grabbing his hands with yours, intertwining your fingers as you wait for his response.

“okay,” he slurs, nodding compliantly. 

“do you need my help walking?”

“yes,” he drapes himself over you without hesitation, causing you to groan uncomfortably. your question was said majorly as a joke, but kaiser will never let go of an opportunity to be as close to you as possible. 

stumbling back to the car with a half-coherent athlete was difficult but not impossible. unlocking the vehicle, you open the passenger’s door rather easily, shoving him in there with an ‘oof’ from both of you. however, when you tried to pull away, you were met with a chain and lock around your waist, manifested in the form of your overgrown boyfriend who is too liberal with the amount of physical affection he spares.

you place a hand on his shoulder to try and steady yourself from his iron grip. “hey, i need to go to the driver’s seat, can’t you let me go to do that?”

kaiser whines loudly, pulling you even closer. “please don’t make me let go. i don’t want to.”

he was not good for your health. you exhale, slightly perplexed, slightly touched by his devotion. “babe, i’m just going to the driver’s seat. you’ll let me, won’t you?” 

“no. wanna keep you with me. want to love you forever,” his words are muffled into your jacket before the athlete brings his head out of your stomach to look you square in the eye, and the shiny, emotional look in them makes your heart lurch. “please say there’s no one else for you but me.”

grabbing both sides of his face with tender affection, you place a kiss on his nose; an action that causes him to scrunch his nose out of instinct. “you know there will never anyone but you. i love you just as much in kind.”

he sighs, melting against you. the night air nips at your exposed skin but you can’t find it in you to care much.

“so… you don’t think that i’m too much?” the star striker questions and you think you’ve uncovered the root of tonight’s strangeness; the main problem that’s been bothering him.

“a lot? maybe” you whisper and his face falls slightly at your confession, a flash of devastation crossing his features. his expression of ruin is slow to fade so you kiss it off, sealing your lips with his in a gentle meeting of two hearts, hoping to heal his sorrow that was carved from a moment of misunderstanding. 

you pull away from him but the striker continues chasing after your touch.

“but never too much.” 

an exhale of relief leaves him before he straightens up to meet your lips again, hand snaking up to the back of your neck to hold you against him as he tries to communicate all that he feels-  which is everything. 

kaiser loves selectively, but he loves hard, dedicating everything of his that he can until he’s squeezed dry and rendered empty, ready for a refill that he’ll inevitably give away, all to you. 

kaiser’s heart rests in your hands, where it rightfully belongs.

“i love you,” slurs the striker against your lips. “i know i can be a lot but i love you. please never leave me. what is the meaning of life if you’re not there with me?” 

you can’t help wondering about what happened tonight for him to reach such a state of existentialism, but there’s no time to dwell on it now whilst he’s still intoxicated and vulnerable. gently, you hold his jaw so he could look up at you. 

“i might not show it as unabashedly as you do, but please never doubt that i love you. i adore you with my whole being, kaiser, there’s no one else in the world for me like you,” you confess, voice gentle and unwavering. 

he doesn’t let you see the way his eyes mist before closing them and leaning into your touch. “i would do anything for you,” the striker whispers.

“anything, you say?”

he nods.

“then let’s go home and sleep. what do you say, handsome?”

“what a brilliant idea. you’re so smart, my love.”

“thank you but you need to let go of me in order for that to happen.”

he begins wailing in protest.

© 2023 EARTHTOOZ do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites.

stop looking at me with those eyes. hsr

— honkai star rail men being smitten with you ( or simply staring at you with their pretty eyes. )

ft. jing yuan, blade and gepard landau.

longer drabble than intended. pining for jing yuan’s. mild yandere tendencies on blade’s part. angst with comfort for gepard’s. fluff w/ mild angst content. gn! reader. 1.5k wc

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 — he looks at you with so much pining and admiration.

You shouldn’t have indulged him, you sigh at the perpetual thought. Your brows furrowed in utter concentration as you assessed the chess board in front of you, glaring at it like it was your mortal enemy who had caused you years of strife. From the usual routinely yet peaceful day in the Luofu turned into you being coaxed yet again by the infamous General to play a game of mind chess with him. This isn’t new, you being alone with him isn’t new. You’d grown accustomed to Jing Yuan inviting you to be his playmate whenever he felt like slacking off from work, and who are you to refuse your superior’s direct orders?

The dawn in the courtyard careens between the corners of the table in soft honey glow, the temperature lukewarm and birds crooning beside the lethargic general but you don’t let their sweet tune disrupt you.

“What are you going to do?” You hear the General muse, perhaps to probe you from your concentration, you dare not lift your head to answer him. You only turned back up once you’ve found a safe and calculated step for one of your pieces to go, that was the time you’ve also realized that General Jing Yuan isn’t even focused on the game before him.

Instead he had his eyes fixated on you.

He had his elbow propped on his knee, cheek on his palm, watching you agonize over the game, hiding the quirk on his lips. Cute, he thought, looking at you mull over the game made his heart flutter hither thither. Then the corners of his eye crinkle in amusement when he sees your eyes on him, finally noticing.

“What is it?” He dares to ask you, like he wasn't just openly admiring you.

“Uhm, it’s your turn now, General Jing Yuan.” Your soft response mustered him to finally look at the board.

“Hm, so it seems.”

“Would you like us to continue playing? You don’t seem interested.” You take note of his slack shoulders and heavy lidded eyes. Usually when you play together he would have his calculating gaze on the board at all times, but he looked a little too distracted to play as of now.

“You’re right, apologies, something else has caught my undivided attention.”

“And what’s that?”

“You, of course. You’re rather ravishing today.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes are two amber orbits so golden on you. You haven’t noticed it until now, the way he looks at you, so intense and full of amusing sincerity. The sunlight only intensifies his bright pupils that carry not only the sun itself but the entire lights of Luofu. You cannot contain the blush on your cheeks, you turn away from him, obviously baffled. “Would you focus on the game, General?”

His deep chuckle reverberates the peaceful courtyard. “I believe I’ve found something much more worthy of my time as of the moment.”

“I implore you to stop teasing me like this.”

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 — he’d do anything for you to look at him.

“Elio had already foreseen most of your missions and yet here you are, coming to me all injured and rugged. So careless.”

“Watch what you say to me.” You merely huff at Blade’s soft sneer of a threat. You wouldn’t have let this bothered you if it only happened once or twice but the swordsman’s been coming back to you injured for the sixth time with the same roaring wounds and your patience is thinning.

Blade’s top uniform is thrown somewhere on the couch, your hands webbed with bandage dressing as you focus your attention on the purplish bruise on his chest, the wound is vivid, besmirching burgundy across his chafe skin. You leaned forward and threw a piece of his raven hair over his shoulder and muttered out another annoying retort. Maybe your anger not only stems from having to tidy him up, but also from worry. Truth be told, you hated seeing Blade injured, though that is something you won’t admit aloud to him.

“The next time you come to me like this I’ll—“

You lift your eyes and immediately meet his red ones. Blade is leaned back on the couch, staring at you tantalizingly beneath raven bangs, he tilts his head lazily, hiding his underlining smile. It shouldn’t have done anything to you, but the way he looked at you beneath his lashes made a certain chill crawl down your spine and to the tip of your toes.

“Why’d you stop, hm?”

You hated it, hated this. Hated how your chest jumps a beat at his tone, this is dangerous. You had the thought of turning around and leaving him but he captures your wrist, placing your palm flatly on his chest, his skin dances with warmth and coldness but one thing you’ve taken into detail was his racing heart. Don’t tell me..

“Blade, did you get hurt on purpose?”

The smirk on his face finally reveals itself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Unhand me this instant, you bastard.” Despite your hiss, you cannot tear your gaze away from his, something about Blade is addictive, a guttural need churns in your gut the more your gaze stays locked on his. He reaches out and unexpectedly wraps the bandage around your waist, pulling you back to him and to stand between his parted legs. No matter how much you’ve stuttered in surprise you cannot pull away, not from him and he knew the effect he had on you and your restless heart, bringing your hand up to his lips as he kissed each finger so tenderly.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have resorted to this tactic if you’ve visited me often.”

𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃 — he looks at you like you are his whole world on the verge of crumbling.

Hide and seek was your forte back then. You and Lynx would always come out triumphant as compared to Gepard and Serval, but that doesn’t stop the boy from always seeking you out, you cannot pinpoint whether it was due to his stubbornness at your constant taunts or because he felt as if he needs to look for you no matter what. Found you. Looks like you found me again. It was always this sweet little moment between the two of you, with Gepard perking up when he had sought you and you smiling up at him with a proud grin, pleased with his victory.

Even at this very moment, with you wrapped in a bundle in his blue uniform cape on the verge of reaching frostbite; shivering and skin cold from the harsh and unmerciful winter beyond Belobog’s walls—Gepard’s found you, at the very last minute. This time he fails to understand why you had ventured out of Belobog despite the dangers, maybe you were in search of something, maybe a research breakthrough or something superficial, the Captain doesn’t care.

He was furious, heartbroken and frightened. You could’ve been killed out here if Serval didn’t approach him in the middle of training, concerned about your whereabouts. He had to drop everything and storm out of the city gates to search for you, as reckless as that seemed.

“Gepard..?” He stiffens when he hears your shivering mutter. He looks down and sees you awake, relief washes through his soul. You two had faltered just at the outskirts of the city, the warmth barely licking both your figures.

“You-“ he sucked in a breath, his heart continued to pitter patter in his chest like an endless, raging storm. “What were you thinking, who told you it was a smart idea to go out there!”

“There’s..there’s a plant only found in the blizzard, Lynx told me about it and I thought that you would like them.” his eyes widened at your confession, confliction sullies his mind. You went out to look for a plant, for him? He gazes down at you who in return, refused to look him in the eye, hiding your face on his chest plate in bashful shame.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t find the flower, not only that but I also got lost and almost—“

“Look at me.” He starts, his voice hardened with hurt, confliction, a long craving to shield you from the harsh world if he had the chance to. “Look, I care not about that flower, and a simple sorry won’t cut it this time, you could’ve died if i didn’t find—“ his voice cracks, he composes himself, inhales the cold wind in his lungs. Then, fury turns into melancholy. When he looks down at you in his arms, his eyes are two pairs of winter blue sky swimming with unshed tears, they glow like crystalline blue gems. He gathers you closer to his chest, his lips pressed against the top of your head, as if he’s scared you would shrivel in his hold.

“You could’ve died, and I would've lost you. What would I do then?”

“Sorry, I’m so sorry Geppie. Not again, i promise. You found me didn’t you? you found me just like always, thank you so much.”

You consoled his quiet sobs and equally trembling form. Sometimes, you tend to forget that beneath the cold armor was a sentimental little boy with the most sincere ocean eyes you’ve ever seen.

word count: 285.

thinking about how indifferent blade will be when you confess your feelings to him. blade doesn’t see himself as a human being. he doesn’t think he has the right to feel things, not when he has been cursed by immortality by someone who he considered as a friend.

thinking about how blade will sneer when you finished pouring out your feelings. he will call you hurtful things: “are you stupid?”, “what makes you think i’ll love someone like you?”, “the thought of me being with you makes me sick.”

thinking about how blade ignored your teary eyes and heartbroken state. he walked away, without sparing a glance at you. he knew this wasn’t the right thing to do but as long as you’re out of harm's way, then he will continue living with the guilt buried in his body.

thinking about how blade gradually misses your presence. no matter what he does or where he goes, all he can think about is you. your laughter. your soothing touch. your bright and lifeful eyes. the yearning in his heart gradually consumed him until one day, he had enough.

thinking about how blade gathers up the courage and visits your home. the man was confused with how unusually silent it was. he was about to sneak in when your neighbor saw him and gave him a solemn look; a look he knew all too well.

thinking about how blade wallowed in regret. how he wished he could turn back time. how he wished he could take back the words he said to you. how he wished he was by your side, holding your hands and kissing you whenever he could. how he wished you were still alive.

note: lmao :3

"I can fix him" not in a "I can make him into a better person" way but in a "if he was my character I would've handled his story better" way

its my birthday oh my jesus what the flippy flop im still existing no way

where the fuck did all smau writers last yr august-december go.. pls im rotting in ur taglist imy

¡ ! ❝ REDAMANCY . . ❞

╰┈➤ ❝ [27] collapse ❞ | m. list | prev. | next

natsume sakasaki x reader smau

warning(s) : cussing, death mention, sakasaki natsume is a simp, rip mao im sorry ill write a mao fic as an apology for what i put him through one day i promise

w/c : 1.1k

wataru hibiki has, in his time at yumenosaki academy, seen many dreams crumble. he's witnessed many dreamers fall apart, give up and leave, become a shell of who they once used to be. he's familiar with this particular feeling of loss, of not remembering who you once were; who you wished to be. 

it's a common experience and he has long accepted it strikes when least expected, to the ones you least expect it to happen to, because their dreams are simply too precious– too pure, yet they're still thrown into such a distressing situation.

he wishes he could keep that view, keep looking at the world in black and white, see the evil in the good and the purity in the bad. perhaps it would be easier, less taxing on the mind.

and yet, he hesitates, finds himself looking for an exception; a fault in his theory. he feels his gaze wandering around the ballroom– black and white, filled with fraudulent faces– only to be met with the smiling face of the one who so dearly refers to him as his 'master'.

he protected natsume once, he can do it again, and yet as he truly focuses on his expression, wataru finds there is nothing to protect the boy from.

he's smiling– truly smiling, with his entire being, because natsume has found his safe place.

wataru thinks he is okay with that. as his gaze slides to the person natsume is looking at so fondly, he finds himself relieved she's looking at him the exact same way, like he himself hung the stars and the moon in the night sky. 

perhaps, perhaps some dreams won't crumble

contrary to the flourish in natsumes speech and movements, he hates social events that include the higher classes. he’s been trained for them, taught how to behave, move, interact, stand, lift a glass,.. he knows it all. he has always, always hated these. so then why does he find himself so at ease at this specific event?

because it celebrates his mother? his friends are here? the color scheme makes him feel at ease? no.

you laugh at something kohaku says and suddenly he has the answer to all the questions running through the back of his mind, and he knows it’s you and it’s always been you and it always will be you.

because natsume sakasaki gazes down at you like you are his sun and his world revolves around you; he wants to be yours– he is yours, but only if you want him to be. he thinks he would continue being yours even if you didn't desire it to be so, he simply couldn't stop following the predetermined route he is meant to take; following the course mapped out for him, much like the planets you hold so dear orbit the sun (and he hopes you hold him dear, too).

he finds himself desperately wishing soulmates were real because then his feelings would make sense because now he just feels and he doesn’t understand why.

and yet as you turn his way when you notice him walking towards you with that breathtaking smile of yours and something akin to sparkles in your eyes, his heart starts racing a mile a minute and he’s not even sure he can walk properly anymore. is this a curse? is he dying? what have you done to him?

“natsu! you were so great! i wish you would’ve seen yourself! err, well, i suppose performing was better but- not the point! ahhhh, i wish i had recorded it.. actually i think tsukasa said–”

you went on animatedly explaining whatever it is you were saying while he just stared. he wishes he could listen but he’s gonna be absolutely, brutally honest, he can’t bring himself to. his ears are ringing and his palms are suddenly sweating and holy shit has it always been so hot in here? where’s all the air from his lungs gone? why is his throat so dry? oh god you’re looking at him and what were you even saying oh go-

“natsu? are you okay? would you like to sit down for a bit? i’m sorry, i should’ve known you were tired– come, i’ll go get you some water,” you grab onto his elbow and pull him along with you universe knows where and he just lets you. 

suddenly he’s sitting in a chair and you’re fawning all over him; checking his temperature because apparently his ’forehead is too warm’ and sending mao to get some water (which he, to everyones surprise, does) while kohaku and tsukasa keep the other guests away from your unsuspecting corner and natsume just dazedly stares up at you while you gently push his bangs back with a look of genuine concern for him.

suddenly, air re-enters his lungs and his throat opens up, but the ringing and the fuzz in his brain remain. he doesn’t think you’ve ever been so close to each other before and frankly, it’s making him lightheaded. his amber eyes trace the curves of your face and he’s late to realize he could probably count your lashes if he really wanted to (he does, god does he want to) and, makeup be damned, even without it you put all beauty standards and so-proclaimed “most beautiful women in the world” to shame. 

despite the fuzz there is a singular coherent thought swirling in his brain, he thinks you’re beautiful. no, gorgeous. no, that’s not quite good either.

“you’re ethereal..”

and yet, that still doesn’t fully capture your essence. heavenly might be close. breathtaking? heartstopping? not quite.. they need to come up with a new word for you specifically because whatever high natsume is riding on, he can’t find a word good enough for you.

you’re looking at him in the eyes with an adorably flustered face and your hands are no longer messing with his bangs or touching his forehead and he’s a little slow to realize he accidentally voiced his thoughts when he sees you give him the softest of smiles; his face now feels 10 times warmer than before.

“thank you, i would say the same about you. ethereal, breathtakingly so,” your hand slides from his forehead to cup his cheek and natsume sakasaki thinks he might short circuit.

“i think i’m in love with you..”

your hand freezes and natsume begins to regret every life decision that’s led him up to this point but then he feels the soft press of your lips against his and, perhaps, he should give himself a pat on the back instead.

mao isara, however, regrets agreeing to come along the moment he walks past the curtain separating you from the rest of the guests just to see you kissing his “arch nemesis” and he’s forced to accept there is nothing, no deal, no faking; you love natsume sakasaki and he can’t do anything but watch. he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving the glass of water with kohaku and with the excuse of needing some fresh air, he exits the ballroom.

╰┈➤ synopsis ❝after yumenosaki academy resident magician and eccentric sakasaki natsume asks you to “go out with him”, you immediately shut him down. so why is he dedicating a song to you at a switch concert? and why are people whispering about you being the cutest couple?❞

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aaa thanks for the tag!!! me irl lolol ANYWAY!! idk who to tag but feel free to join guys! i swear i have mutuals but i forgot them so they'll just see this on their feed or soemthibg n then try it out GO

This picrew is so cute