Just Playing Twister (Todoroki X Reader)

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

Hehe someone allowed me to write smut🥵😏😏

Tell me why I’m so excited to write this now🤦‍♀️

Like a goddamn child with a cookie jar

Assassin AUs

1.      ‘Wait, you’ve been hired to killthis guy too?!’ AU

2.      ‘My apologies, upon closer inspection it turns out that you are not the person I was hired to kill.’ AU

3.      ‘I haven’t decided if I’m actually going to kill you yet but first, either way, what did you DO to piss off the Canadians so badly.’ AU

4.      ‘They never told me the target was also a trained killer. Did they tell you?’ AU

5.      ‘I’m meant to kill you but I’ve been watching you for a week to work out how and you’re just too nice.’ AU

6.      ‘I’m intrigued; the last three attempts on my life were much better funded and prepared.’ AU

7.      ‘All my intel said you’re not meant to be back until next week and I’m sitting here using your flat as a sniper nest to kill a bad guy. This is awkward.’ AU

8.      ‘I can only assume we’re both missing part of the story here because that was supposed to kill you.’ AU

9.      ‘Dude, you just shot my arm off. Do they not hire assassins with an aim anymore?’ AU

10.  ‘Explain to me one more time, why exactly are you so desperate to buy this much Ricin?’ AU

11.  ‘So let me get this straight. You nuked my entire home city and you still didn’t manage to kill me?’ AU

12.  ‘Dude, no. If you kill me that just leaves you, the crazy guy and the CAT!’ AU

13.  ‘I don’t know who you are or how you got in here but I need you to give back at least some of the armoury.’ AU

14.  ‘Having drawn the short straw I’m the guy who has to explain to you why we can’t take out a hit on an entire landmass.’ AU

15.  ‘Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot back there but we are literally the only two people on this boat who are not assassins, so…’ AU

If It Ain’t Broke (Bokuto x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You broke up with Bokuto for a good reason. At least, what you thought was a good reason. But right now you can’t help but miss him terribly, and according to Akaashi, he’s feeling the exact same. But did you really break him like his friend said?

A/N: Did y’all know Bokuto is 6’1”? God, he’s a fucking dreamboat. How some people don’t like his beefy ass, I will never know. I’m just gonna warn y’all now, this is only well-written bc I had my cat by my side literally the whole time I wrote this. He’s given off fuckin’ good-writing vibes, I swear. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 2299

        “Fix him.” You flinch as a palm slams down on your desk, crumpling your assignment. Unimpressed, you raise a brow. 

        “Excuse me?” With a glance --- Akaashi --- you huff and turn to face the intruder.

        “Fix him. You broke him.”

        “Broke who?”

        “Bokuto!” Your classmate’s sudden outburst is unlike his usual, aloof self as he throws his hands in the air. “I can’t remember the last time he hit one of my sets after you talked to him.”

        “Maybe that’s not my problem,” you snicker. 

        “Oh hardy har har.” He rolls his eyes before lowering himself to your level. “Just fix him. We have a game coming up and our team can’t handle another depressed Bokuto phase. We almost lost the last one because of him.” 

        You wanted to make another snide comment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. After breaking up with your owl-haired boyfriend, every sighting of him, even the mention of his name pained your heart. One time, you had spotted him at the same time he noticed you in the hall and he only whimpered before sprinting in the opposite direction. Most of the time, you regretted ending things, but you had to respect your own feelings. Although maybe, just maybe this once you could do the boys’ volleyball team a solid. 

        “Fine,” you avoided his gaze and fiddled with your hands. “I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect it to make everything all sunshine and rainbows afterwards!” 

        “C’mon YN,” he smirks at you, “we both know that’ll be inevitable.” 

        That smug bastard was always right.

                                ~~~

        You attended their practice that night, attempting to sit in the corner discreetly but that plan didn’t pan out. The second Bokuto walked through the gym doors it was like he caught a whiff of your scent. Some kind of animal instincts inside of him awakened as his eyes darted around the room, quickly spotting you with your legs splayed out as you tapped away on your phone against the wall. Not a sound of acknowledgement was made, but the impact of your presence was instantaneous. 

        Like a true captain, he took charge of his team right off the bat, even though practice wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes. 

        “Time for stretching, boys!” 

        “Bokuto, nobody’s dressed yet.”

        “Then hurry up!” 

        Every jump was a tad higher, every spike a tad harder, and near the middle of practice Akaashi gave you a pointed look. 

        ‘I told you so,’ he mouthed while dodging a stray volleyball of Bokuto’s. Your middle finger was raring to go, but you held back with much personal restraint. There was no way your ex was this pumped only at the sight of you- oh wait, this is Bokuto. Nevermind. 

        “Akaashi, set me up one more time!” The ace’s eyes strayed to you for a split second before he ran up and jumped, rearing back and spiking the ball so intensely you shivered at the sound. How did it not pop after that? It was his hardest hit yet, and a miniscule ounce of pride warmed your chest when Bokuto turned and grinned at you. 

        “Hey, hey, hey!” he fist-pumped, returning his attention to his team. For the last thirty minutes of practice, they decided to work on serves, and the outcome was just the same. 

        The hair on the back of your neck raised as you watched his bulky form take a couple purposeful steps before smack! The ball whistled through the air and landed perfectly in the corner of the court, blasting the water bottle away like a rocket into a forgotten area of the gym. His signature shout was interrupted by a sudden voice by your side. 

        “He hasn’t been like this in weeks,” Akaashi squatted next to you, taking a sip from his water. “I don’t understand how you got him so hyped up, but I’m glad.” He glances away from the court and watches your face from the corner of his eye, flashing you a small smile. “I’m glad you came today. We needed this.” 

        “I just came to watch, nothing more.”

        “We both know that’s a lie.” He quirks a brow at your slightly flushed face. “Just talk to him this time, okay? He’s not-”

        “Akaashi!” Bokuto orders from the far benches, “Come set for me again!” His voice is more demanding than usual, and his eyes burn with jealousy. The setter only chuckles under his breath at the sight of the green-eyed monster, and stands to face him. 

        “I will,” you grab his hand to halt him and stare into his eyes, nodding with certainty, “I promise. I’ll talk to him.”

        “AKAASHI!” You both jump at the abrupt, irritable shout. Frantically, the setter nods back at you and wriggles his hand out of your grasp before jogging away, visibly shaken. With a gulp, you dare to peek over at the court, only to nervously shift on the floor after making eye contact with Bokuto. His orbs, normally yellow and glowing with excitement, are dark and pouring with envy. Pursing your lips, you can’t help but slump a little lower against the gym wall, hesitantly trying to hide yourself from the palpable heat that rolls off him in waves. 

                                ~~~

        Practice ended quicker and louder than you imagined. Everything the ball made contact with-- Bokuto’s hand, the floor, that one door that flew open after impact-- it all created a sound that boomed and echoed around the room. Akaashi decided to call it quits after the door almost blew off its hinges. 

        Bokuto silently picked up stray volleyballs and loaded them up in the basket before wheeling them into the storage room. It was around this time that the co-captain of the team gave you the signal. With about four or five frenzied head nods towards the private closet, you finally caught his drift and made your way over. 

        The stench of sweat made you nauseous, but you powered through as you walked nearer to the boys, ignoring how their chatter had subsided when you shuffled past them. 

        The room was dark and dusty, with the only light coming from the outside. Bokuto perked up at the sound of your tennis shoes squeaking against the mopped floor. He parks the bucket of balls in an unlit corner next to some brooms before facing you.

        “You came today. I was surprised.” His voice is wobbly and uncertain, and you’re shocked to finally notice just how ruffled he appeared. The normally wild hair atop his head sat in drooping grey and black tufts, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He flashes a small smile at you, but it’s forced and trembling. He was coming off the high of you watching him practice just like the old days, and he’s regretablly remembering that the old days have passed. You broke up with him. 

        “Yeah, I did.” You sway back and forth on your feet while twiddling your thumbs. Pursing your lips, you take a hesitant step closer and say, “I thought you did great, by the way.”

        The life returns to his eyes for a split second, but it disappears just as fast. “Thank you,” he mumbles. The room returns to a deafening silence, and you bite the inside of your cheek to pass the time. 

        “Why,” he pipes up once more, killing the quiet. “Why did we have to break up again?” His arms hang limply at his sides while his feet scuff the floor. He didn’t dare to look you in the eyes at the moment, and you understood the feeling. The atmosphere was tense and choked up, like a glass teetering precariously on the edge of a table. One wrong move and everything would shatter. 

        “Because,” you force out, breathing shakily, “you just… you just never had enough time for me.”

        “But I do now!” The cup falls. Everything breaks. 

        “Do you?” you whimper, pressing a hand against your lips to contain a sob. He steps closer instinctively, eyes watering at the sight of your walls collapsing.

        “I do, I swear!” His rough hands grab your shoulders and yank you closer. His golden orbs search your face one, two, three times before he leans closer. “I promise, YN! Please, I promise!” His strong fingers trail down and grasp your wrists, tugging you into his chest while he pulls your arms around his back, free of their own volition. You don’t deny his needs and melt into the embrace, shedding a few stray tears into his shirt which you clutch tightly.  

        “I promise,” he whispers once more into your hair, wrapping his own muscular arms around your shaky form. “I don’t want to be without you ever again.” His voice trembles against your ear, and you begin to notice just how much your body missed his own. You fit perfectly against his chest, and his warmth makes you feel just right. Your heart races in a good way, and the pit of your stomach fills with a joy only he can provide effortlessly. You were made for each other, and you were perfect for each other. 

        Oh shit… you were perfect for each other. 

        “Okay,” you whisper, nodding into his shirt. “Okay, let’s give it another shot.” The reaction is instantaneous. 

        “Hey, hey, hey!” he whoops victoriously into your ear, hugging just tight enough that the only sound you can muster is a wheeze. You hang on for dear life when he lifts you up and spins you around while cheering even louder.

        The atmosphere of the room grows ten times softer and brighter thanks to his beaming, and his hands trail down to the backs of your thighs and tap twice. You understand and hop with complete faith that he will catch you, and you will continue to do that until he drops you one day, which is highly unlikely. In a seasoned fashion, you wrap your legs around his waist and wind your arms around his neck for stability. He settles his hands under the tips of your thighs and stares up at you like you’re the light of his life. You wouldn’t mind if he kept doing that forever. 

        “I missed you so much,” he admits, completely unashamed. You can’t contain your smile, even though your cheeks are a bit puffy from your breakdown earlier, and your eyes crease at the corners. 

        “I missed you too.” 

        “I won’t leave you alone ever again. I swear!” You giggle and run your hands behind his neck and into his nape, just barely brushing through his hair.

        “Okay,” you nod happily and stroke his peppered tufts. “I’ll hold you to that.”

                                ~~~

        A body crashes into the desk next to yours, but you don’t pay it any mind. 

        “Whatcha doin’?” The voice is playful and overjoyed, ecstatic even. 

        “Homework.” Your response is the opposite. 

        “Awesome!” Bokuto cheers, grabbing the attention of the rest of the class. While you palm your face, he loudly scooches his chair closer, ignorant to the noisy squeaks it causes. The racket finally stops when he deems himself an appropriate distance from you, which just so happens to be a roomy six inches. The only thing more palpable than his presence is the warm breaths hitting your neck. 

        “It’s homework.” 

        “I know, but you’re doing it, so it must be amazing!” You didn’t know whether to smack him silly or kiss his lips off. Neither idea seemed more desirable at the moment.

        He’s practically bouncing in his seat beside you while his head plops down onto your shoulder. 

        “I think x equals six,” he points down on your paper, chin bobbing on your collarbone with every syllable. 

        “X equals two.”

        “Oh.” 

        His grin doesn’t falter even once while he basks in your less-than-satisfied presence. You’re about to blow your top, and you just can’t take it any longer. 

        “What are you doing here, Koutarou?”

        “I’m spending more time with you like you wanted!” You sigh exasperatedly and glance up at the ceiling.

        “Kou, I meant more like after-school stuff! This,” you turn in your seat and gesture to him, “you sneaking into my class to visit while my teacher’s in the bathroom?” You shake your head. “It’s a bit excessive.”

        He throws you a whiny pout at puppy dog eyes.

        “But I wanted to see you!” Your hardened exterior cracks just a bit. God, he was an irresistible, beefy pain in the ass. With a huff, you cup his cheeks and peer into his sparkling eyes.

        “I know,” you smile reassuringly, “I wanted to see you too. But you need to go back before-”

        “Bokuto!” Your teacher stands in the doorway with folded arms and a tapping shoe. “Please return to your classroom right now!” Your boyfriend chuckles at the sight and spins up out of his seat.

        “Oops, gotta go babe!” He presses a swift kiss to your lips that rattles your brain and widens your eyes. With a breathless gasp, you watch as he dashes out of the room with a cheeky grin, waving excitedly on the way.

        “At least he’s fixed now.” Akaashi reclaims his chair and sits at his desk beside yours, observing as the class door closes with a slam. The teacher shakes his head and rubs his temples while returning to the front of the class, shuffling a stack of papers. 

        You, on the other hand, are still in a daze, slowly running your fingers over your lips to revel in the lasting tingles. Then you break out into a smile. 

        “Yeah. He’s fixed now.”

Stoooop ushijima in the coming home post killed me 😭😭 I love big stoic guys who are actually teddy bears sndndnddn every one of the guys was cute but his part was my favourite 🥺

Aidnksncksksk yessss I love big scary guys being soft boys too🥰🥰 especially when it’s just for that one person they love😍 I’m glad you liked the post!!

Hiya can you do Tsukishima crushing on Sugawara younger sister who is in the same year and class as him and Sugawara is super protective of his younger sister? ❤❤❤❤❤ five hearts for the best rating of an awesome writer

This is like three years old but I'm trying to clean out my inbox and I came up with ideas for this years ago so here they are:

“Awww, you loveeee me,” yn coos. 

“No,” he rolls his eyes and turns away, “I don’t.”

“Tsukki fell in love with meeee,” she sang, rocking from side to side with a teasing grin. 

I feel like Suga is mostly resistant to letting Tsukishima date his sister bc he knows how mean and rash Tsukki can be. 

Tsukishima one time just walks up behind yn and drops his forehead onto her shoulder. A muffled groan escapes from him while she pats his cheek and snorts. “Why is everyone so stupid?”

In the distance, Sugawara sees this and malfunctions. This is the first time he’s seen them together. 

For the first time in tsukishima’s life, he actually wanted human contact. He wanted to hold someone, maybe their hand. Or hug someone, even for just a second. He wanted to run his hands down their sides and brush the stray hairs from their face.

It was you. That “someone” was you.

yn sugawara. 

No context just oreo. <33

Oop😳

Oreos really do make the best pets tho😌😌

Ps he’s laying on my stomach rn sos I can’t breathe

Sorry for always camping on your requests 🙈🙈 but uhh dhhshd can i request a kuroo x reader (or if u do konoha pls do konoha) angst au with the song i cant make you love me by bon iver?

One-Sided Future (Konoha x Reader) 

*GIF not mine*

Summary: It’s hard to see a person fall in love with another who never intends on sharing a future with that person. It’s even harder when that person is you. (Based on “I Can’t Make You Love Me” by Bon Iver)

A/N: I’m really sorry this is so late, but I sincerely hope you like it. It might not be what you were expecting, but I saw a comment on the video of the song that just inspired me and also broke my heart, so I just hope you feel the same with this angsty fic. Again, I really hope you like it!

Word count: 900

        He was warm. 

        The bed shook as he slipped under the covers, arms wrapping around you while you feigned sleep. 

        Why did it hurt so much? 

        His grip on you never tightened. It was as simple as that. 

        His chest was hot near your back. You couldn’t feel it’s solidity anymore though. 

        There was a wall between you and Konoha now. Every inch of space between you two created a wall. You didn’t like it. 

        You couldn't stop it. 

        Sitting in silence, you waited until his breathing slowed. Then you shifted in his grip, moving closer to feel him while also turning to face him. This was the closest you had gotten in weeks. 

        He was so peaceful in his sleep, dirty blond hair splayed against his pillow. You couldn’t see his dark eyes behind his closed lids, and for that you were thankful. 

        In moments like these, you could pretend they still held love. You could pretend they would still squint in delight at the sight of you. You could pretend their pupils would still widen when you embraced him in a hug.

        But the fact was that they didn’t. Your hopes, your requited love, your shared future, it was all just a dream. A fruitless dream. 

        In your own eyes, Konoha was the one. One day, you wished you two would get married and spend the rest of your lives together. You wanted to walk down the aisle under his adoring gaze. You wanted to dip your toes in the hot sand of a gorgeous beach beside his grinning form. You wanted to watch him spill a single tear at the sight of a newborn in his arms. 

        A whole future was visible before your eyes. Every detail was beautiful. Not perfect, but beautiful. 

        Konoha couldn’t see it. He didn’t want to see it. God, how you wanted him to see it, wanted him to want it. But he didn’t. 

        Nothing was more hopeless than that wish. The idea of being together forever, loving each other for the rest of your lives was nothing but a pipe dream. Not even a pipe dream. It was just a damn dream. One you needed to let go. 

        Tonight would be your last night in his arms. You should have ended it before he joined you in the bed, but you just wanted to feel him one last time. It was a lapse in judgement, but a final farewell all the same.

        Tomorrow you will move on. Tomorrow you’ll let him go and carry on with your life. You’ll let him find someone else, someone who wanted the same things he wanted.

        And maybe one day you could find someone for yourself. 

        Still, it hurt to think that there was nothing you could do. There was nothing left to salvage in your relationship. 

        How…

        How can someone possibly describe the pain?

        It wasn’t physical, but it was damn near close. Your heart was… aching, yearning for reciprocity. 

        Konoha wanted a girlfriend. He wanted movie dates and posters at volleyball games. Study nights and silly little pranks. Posts and pictures online of the two of you everywhere and anywhere. 

        You wanted the love of your life. A man to marry and have children with. Someone to hug in joy as you watched first steps, listened to first words. Someone to go to for comfort when work was stressful or when college days began. 

        Konoha wanted good times.

        You wanted commitment. But you couldn’t force that on him. So yes, tonight was the last night with him. 

        So you wiped away your tears and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him close, intertwining your legs with his. 

        He was warm. He always was. 

        Then you closed your damp eyes and laid your head against his chest, letting out a broken sob when his hands squeezed just a bit tighter. 

        You promised yourself this was it. This was the last night you would be in his arms. Then you would let him go. You promised.

        Then you fell asleep.

                                ***

        Within the span of a month, Konoha’s arm had already fallen over another girl’s shoulder. 

        Within the span of a month, you still felt just as much love for him as you did when you let him go. But the truth was clear before your eyes. 

        You couldn’t force him to be with you for your own dreams. 

        You couldn’t force him to love you.

Please do a Part 2 of The Luna Hunt (Alpha Bakugou x Reader). I loved the story

ahahahahha i wrote like half of it already but its so bad and i hate it and i want it to die so we shall see if that puppy ever gets to see the light of day. Trust me tho, anon, you aint alone in that boat, and im certainly glad you liked it

More Than a Name (Ban x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: While escaping from the Holy Knights who are chasing after not her, but the name on her wrist, YN runs into the last person she expected to see so soon: Ban, her soulmate. 

Author’s Note: This is my first x reader/overall fanfiction that I have ever written, so please be nice:) (and I wrote it at 3:00 am using speech-to-text cuz I’m lazy so…) I do realize it is a little, you know, terrible, so I apologize, but I just wanted to finally write something for once in my life that wasn’t for a class. Anyways, onto the story!

Word count: 1884

        People were lined up and down the main street of the town like a bunch of impatient ants waiting for food. YN knew this was a waste of their time, and nervously scratched the skin just below the leather bracelet on her wrist. Ashamed, she watched as her neighbors were grabbed harshly by their right arms, inspected, then shoved away with unnecessary force as the Holy Knights reached for the townspeople next in line. YN knew what they were looking for too; it was people like her. Those with one of the names of the Seven Deadly Sins gracing their flesh.

       Months ago, Great Holy Knights Dreyfus and Hendrickson had asked that the soulmates of the Sins give themselves up for the greater good of Liones. The Knights wanted to use the Sins own perfect partners against them, use them as human bait. When no one had admitted their affiliations, the Knights decided to invade towns one by one, searching for leverage on the Sins in soulmate-form to goad them to surrender their lives up for capture.

       Now, as YN lay in wait inside her small home near the town square for a Holy Knight to knock down her door and kidnap her, she decided to return to packing and not give up hope. She had been distracted by the small glimpse of her fellow townspeople waiting in a line for nothing, and finally realized that if she had made eye contact with any one of them, she would be done for. Shoving the last of her shirts into her heavily-packed satchel, she laced up her brown boots and headed for the back door. Her pants sagged slightly, so the girl removed the decorative string from the V of her blouse and wrapped it tightly around her waist through the loops of her pants, constricting her airways slightly but ensuring her clothing security. YN knew that she would have to move swiftly, so there would be no time to fiddle with the loose riding pants she had stolen from her neighbor. Sure, thievery was bad, but YN’s survival depended on it, and her strict wardrobe of work skirts and flowy blouses would not make for quick travel.

       Just as she slinked out of her home's second exit, the young woman heard the last thing she wanted to hear shouted across the square. Over the top of her house and through the alleys of the buildings beside it, a Holy Knight declared, “We are looking for a YN YLN.” Like a deer in headlights she froze while observing her clean escape, the forest behind her home, with wide, fearful eyes. Deciding hastily, YN took a chance and made a run for it, loudly shouldering through branches and stomping on twigs as she rushed past the trees. She had no idea where the blurs of brown and green around her led, or even if they ended, but the girl decided she would rather be eaten by a rabid bear than be endlessly tortured and waiting for her outlaw of a soulmate to save her from the clutches of the dastardly Holy Knights. The racket she was making in the woods could have never been quieted by the mumbling lines of people in the town, and YN knew that, so she sprinted harder than her legs could take, muscles burning from the taxing movements. Just when the young woman could no longer hear the steps of her pursuers over her own heaving pants, she burst into a clearing and screamed at the sight of a giant and it’s ginormous, green pet pig, adorned with a building for a hat. YN screeches in fright once more when she tries to backtrack herself, only to notice the Holy Knights once again, directly on her tail. Suddenly, her feet are dangling in the air as YN is enclosed in the gentle, almost tender grasp of the female giant behind her.

       Giving YN a calming smile, the human colossus states, “Hi, there, I’m Diane.” She gestures to herself before pointing to YN’s followers and asking, “Why are you being chased?” YN’s eyes widen in recognition at the name before glancing to the side at Diane’s pet pig, only to see three more curious pairs of eyes blinking from atop the animal along with a second, smaller pink boar.

       However, YN is no idiot, so when she makes eye contact with her fated lover, the first words out of her mouth is “Shit,” muttered under her breath. Fighting her urge to struggle within the giant’s grasp, YN looks at Diane once more before stuttering out, “Please help me.”

       During all of this, Ban’s ruby eyes grow in offense at YN’s first word, asking, “Should I be insulted? ‘Cause I feel insulted.” YN cannot hold back an eye roll at his dramatic statement during her personal crisis. Shocked at her brazen action, Ban goes rigid and drops his jaw. Meliodas, YN assumes, smacks Ban on the arm to bring him back to the matter at hand, which is chasing off YN’s pursuers. Meanwhile, the young girl fights off her newfangled urge to throw up after discovering her fear of heights in Diane’s grip.

                               ~Timeskip~

       After Ban and his blonde companion accomplish their job of beating Knights into submission and fear, the last soldier that had followed YN limps away while shouting, “We will kidnap every last one of you Sins’ soulmates, just you wait!” before rushing back into the forest faster than lightning. This act causes YN to ponder if that was some special ability of his, or if it was just his inner-wuss taking control in fear of retaliation on the Sins’ behalf. The gray-haired female, who YN has learned was named Elizabeth and was also a princess of Liones (all while boredly waiting for the Sins’ return), gasped in fear at the Knight’s bold declaration.

       Gowther, the last Sin to leave the Boar Hut at the sounds of the battle’s ruckus outside, gave a resounding “Hm” while inspecting YN after the statement. The remaining Sins all shared a conjoined moment of understanding, their mouths forming ‘oh’ shapes as they turned their gazes to the young girl, eyes tracking as they watched Diane finally, finally, return her to the forest floor.

       YN clenched her teeth as she awkwardly stood in the spotlight of the group’s scrutiny. Chuckling nervously, YN slowly backs away as she spouts, “I don’t want anything to do with you guys, I swear. I don’t even know why they were after me, they had the wrong girl.” Her eyes quickly moved from person to person, warily watching to see if she had convinced them. 

       Ban easily noticed that she was lying and joked, “Wow, if you really don’t like your Sin of a soulmate so much, you must be Gowther’s!” He laughs over dramatically at his wisecrack to ease the tension, but when YN swallows and laughs anxiously once more, Ban has another epiphany and declares, “Holy shit, I was right!” YN’s eyebrows raise at his obliviousness, but quickly lower when Ban approaches her. His plan soon becomes evident, as the albino wants the pair of lovebirds to meet via him dragging YN to her impassive “soulmate.” This idea, however, is quickly shut down when YN flinches away from Ban just as he is about to grasp her wrist. The Sin of Greed is surprised and worried by her actions, concerned he has hurt her in some way. Meliodas, ever the gentleman, hurriedly reduces the thick atmosphere by ordering the large, green pig to burrow into the ground. YN has no time to be startled, as she is quickly ushered inside the building on top of the hog. Diane remains outside, talking quickly and silently with the Sin of Sloth, occasionally glancing through a window at the gang inside. As YN steps through the doors of the cozy bar and gazes around in pleasant surprise, she gives her attention to the Sin next to her, Gowther, who opens his mouth to state something.

       Before the pink haired man can speak, however, Meliodas shouts, “Gowther, Elizabeth and I need to talk to you!” before dragging his soulmate and his fellow Sin out of the room, winking at YN and slamming the door. Flinching at the loud bang before rolling her eyes in exasperation, YN acknowledges what she must do. She takes a seat on a stool of the bar and gestures for Ban to do the same.

       While slowly lowering himself into his seat, Ban decides to exercise basic human decency by asking, “So, what’s your name?” YN shuts him down immediately, shaking her head.

       Pursing her lips, she vaguely proclaims, “I don’t want to say until I see.” She adds quietly, “Can you show me your wrist...please?” Her eyes are almost sad as she watches him confusedly flash his wrist to her, and YN presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth to prevent her gasp. There it is, her own scrappy handwriting gracing his pale skin in harsh, permanent ink. The young girl inhales slowly, but she knows it is not enough oxygen as her lungs burn and she begins to feel lightheaded. Still, she decides against the act of loudly inhaling for fear of drawing his eyes to her, unknown to YN, pleased-looking face.

       Slowly, the young woman gently hovers her fingertips over the marking of her name, just far enough away that neither of them could feel the promised “sparks” of first soulmate-contact. Almost unwillingly, YN pulls back and finally makes eye contact with Ban again. She wants to commit his beautiful, red orbs to memory, and attempts to do so as she slowly unlaces her leather bracelet, smiling faintly when the act draws his eyes. She wants to remember them, and she knows that for a fact.

        ‘At least if he doesn’t like me, I could still remember something beautiful from this moment,’ she tells herself, admiring his white lashes as well. Tearing away the bracelet like a Band-Aid, she uncovers his own name on her wrist, written softly in cursive. It’s perfectly imperfect, as it’s his complete opposite; while he’s often erratic and wild, YN finds his name on her wrist comforting.

        Ban becomes still the sight, but YN scrutinizes his reaction even more, preparing to book it out of there if need be. Slowly, Ban reaches out to touch his own name, almost in disbelief of the view before him. Sparks flow up YN’s arm and throughout her whole body after he makes contact, and a warm, tingling feeling follows. It’s like a combination of adrenaline and anticipation, she notes, and it finally settles in the pit of her stomach. This time around, YN cannot withhold her gasp, and Ban’s face slowly raises to reveal a smile. Not a cocky, irritating smirk like the ones she had seen printed on his wanted posters, an expression he normally wears, but a genuinely happy, almost teary-eyed grin. 

        With her eyes on him, he whispers softly, “I found you,” while tenderly rubbing his thumb back and forth across his own name. No longer fearing rejection, YN is ecstatic as she returns his smile full-force.