Wait I Have No Idea How To Work Tumblr So I Might Not Have Asked To Be Tagged On My Account But My User

aHhdhdh is it ok to request a angsty soulmate au with kenma 🥺 with the words "a soulmate who wasn't meant to be" basically bc u are able to see the red string of fate, and you knew u were destined for kenma, however he fell in love with another... 🥺🥺

The Red String of Nothingness (Kenma x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You’ve been waiting for your soulmate your whole life. Preparing to go into high school, you’re excited for more opportunities to find your destined partner. But… then you find him. And his girlfriend. 

A/N: Angst. Why angst? Cuz angst. Apparently y’all either want me to improve my angst skills, or you’re just obsessed with the genre altogether. Either way, I am really sorry this request is so late, and I hope it’s what you were looking for. Enjoy!

Word count: 1444

        Your heart knew before you did. You were in the gaming aisle, stupidly deciding to buy a new game before the first day of school just to get ahead on your procrastination from the get-go. 

       Suddenly, your heart starts thumping like a herd of wild elephants as a wave of adrenaline hits you. You feel happy and excited all at once, but you have no clue why. 

       Then you see him. 

       A red string is wrapped around his thin, long pinkie while he browses through the games. 

       At least you had something in common.

       The string trails on the ground all the way back to you and you can’t help but grin in excitement. He’s perfect, probably because he’s your soulmate. 

       Long, blond hair with black roots barely brush his shoulders and he’s almost drowning in a red sweatshirt. His face is blank, but your mind runs wild, imagining all of the ways you two could smile together, teaming up to play games or battling it out against each other. And judging by the name on his clothing, he goes to your school too!

       Okay, I can do this. I can do this! I’ll just walk over to him and introduce myself!

       You’ve always wanted to be one of those people who could say with pride that they wanted to choose who they were meant to be with. To have that much self-confidence that you could find someone to spend the rest of your life with must be quite the rush.

       Sadly, you were an introvert. The red string of fate, connecting soulmate to soulmate was a blessing to you. You didn’t have to search for your perfect match, because he was right here, directly in front of you! 

       And you couldn’t wait to meet him. 

       Would it be awkward at first? Painfully silent after you introduced yourself? Or would he be a surprisingly good conversationalist? 

       You wanted to find out oh-so badly, but something was holding you back.

        I’m scared.

       What if he… doesn’t like you? What if he didn’t want a soulmate? What if… what if he had already found someone?

       You shook your head at yourself. 

       No. He’s around my age. No one finds a replacement for their soulmate that early. I can do this!

       Allowing a soft smile to grow on your face, you take a deep breath and set down the game you had been busying yourself with. Here we go. You swivel towards him, rolling your shoulders back and starting your stride. 

       Then you stop. 

       Then your heart stops. 

       Oh.

       A girl has come up behind him, beaming as she taps his shoulder and waits for him to turn around. As he does so, she holds up a game that makes his entire face light up. 

       He looks… so happy. 

       He accepts the game shyly and mutters a thank you, ducking his flushed face after she presses a kiss to his cheek. Then she intertwines her fingers with his and swings their arms all the way to the checkout. 

       Oh.

       You’d never seen a boy so smitten. Not even your parents or your grandparents ever looked that in love. 

       Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Frozen in shock, you ignored the subtle tugging of the red string on your finger. 

        It didn’t matter how close he was. He would never be yours. 

       You were playing a game that someone had already won. Running a race in which someone was already hugging the trophy. 

       Oh.

                               ~~~

       The next day, you woke up feeling empty. No, not empty. 

       Filled with anguish and pain. God, how you wish you felt empty. 

       Feeling nothing would feel so much better than feeling all of this.  

       But life moves on, and never turns back to see those who are being dragged along in the dust. 

       So you slip out of bed, completely emotionless. You brush your teeth, slip on the uniform, brush your hair. 

       At a certain moment, you’re not even thinking. You’re just doing. 

       But no matter how much you do, deep down you know nothing’s going to change. 

       In the blink of an eye, you’re sitting in your new classroom. People chatter around you, filled with liveliness and excited for the new year. But you’re just there. 

       Your gaze is locked outside the window where two birds are building a nest in an oak tree. A third bird will fly by occasionally, but the same two never stop what they’re doing. They’ll be together forever. The nest is already built, and the third bird can’t stop it. 

       There’s nothing the bird can do. 

       “Oh.”

       The telltale metal screeching of a chair signals that someone has taken the seat next to yours. That person’s breathing has grown faster and more frequently stuttering. 

       A finger taps your shoulder, dragging you out of your daze. But it zaps you with the electricity of the first touch. 

       You strain to hold back a whimper. It’s him. Reluctantly, you swing your body around to meet his face. 

       Yeah. It’s still him.  

       God, fuck! It’s still him.

       The blond boy keeps switching his gaze between the string wrapped around your pinkie and your blank face. 

       “Did you need something?” 

       The words slip out involuntarily, bitter and spat with distaste. But the implication is taken all wrong. You don’t sound like someone who’s discovered their soulmate is in love with someone else. 

       No, you sound like the average, impatient student, reluctantly attending high school but wishing to just go back home. 

       The boy takes it this way, and you can tell deep down he wonders if you’ve noticed the string. 

       Maybe… maybe you could use this to your advantage. Maybe this could be how you handle the situation. Sure, one day you might regret it, but right now, this could be the only way to live with the pain. 

       “Can…” he trails off and glances away shyly. His voice is soft and warm, like a gentle melody to your ears. This is gonna suck. Then he holds up his hand to your gaze, displaying the string on his pinkie. “Can you see this?” 

       Of course I can. It’s a sign that you’re my soulmate. That you’re the one I’m meant to be with. You’re the guy that’s supposed to be perfect for me. The one that’s supposed to love me forever.

       You want to hurt him. Make him feel the pain you felt yesterday. You want to be petty and slap him with the facts that he was hurting you by being with someone else. You wanted to hurt him with the fact of How fucking could you? How could you be with someone who wasn’t your soulmate? Why are you so cruel?

       “Uh, yeah…? It’s called a hand. I have a couple of those myself.” 

       But you can’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

       “Oh.” The word falls from his lips with confusion. The boy stares at the string around his pinkie with furrowed brows and you turn your face when he glances back up at you. “Okay. Sorry for disturbing you.” 

       “It’s fine.” 

       No, it’s not. But you shrug and say it is anyway. 

       Your heart twinges with every passing second and self-deprecating thoughts filter through your head. 

       “Kenma!” Shoes slap against the floor as a girl runs in your direction. A girl slides between your desk and his, creating a barrier in more ways than one. 

       “Hey.”

       “Babe, I took your sweatshirt again. I hope you don’t mind.”

       “No, it’s fine.” 

       It sounded more than fine. And when a skirt barely covering a butt slowly grows closer to your face as she dips down and kisses him, you can’t help but resent your existence. 

       “I’ll see you at lunch babe.”

       “All right.” 

       He sounds flustered but content, and when you take a peek at him out of the corner of your eye, you can’t help but sigh. 

       Your soulmate looks happy. “Kenma” looks happy. Maybe you could be okay with that. You just wish you had been given a chance. 

       But maybe you two, as soulmates, weren’t meant to be. 

       What a useless red string this is.

Part 2

Break Up Prank (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

(Captain Version) Part 1

A/N: okay so Kita doesn’t have any screen time either wtf. And nobody told me that fake texts were so damn fun to make😔 A knee ways, enjoy!

Oikawa, Kuroo, Terushima

Hiii so I was wondering (if you have the time to do it ofc) if you could do an Akaashi x reader story (preferably female) where she’s Karasuno’s 1st year manager and she has a crush on Akaashi and they accidentally kiss ( like he falls on her or something ). Again, thank u so much and I’m a HUGE fan of your writing!

aslkdhfasdj this is an extremely cute idea and i love it ill consider using it for another fandom!! however i've long moved on from the "first year" age so writing that now just sounds extremely uncomfortable😖

definitely a huge fan of the accidental kisses bro im even gonna write that down maybe do headcanons later omg ty honestly this makes me wish i had written it back when i started years ago so i wasn't so uncomfortable with it now :( super cute idea

Hi! This isn't a request. But I just read A Cut Above the Rest and its lovely ): thank you for accepting my request. It was a lovely read, it fed my need for sugawara content, my need for angst, but also fluff! Overall very very sweet, felt the reader's pain and insecurities. Just wow :') It was definitely worth the wait! All your work is. Take your time in writing your requests. Your wellbeing comes first. Hope all is well. Thanks again!

Thank you, thank you, thank you for saying this. You put a smile on my face first thing in the morning, and that hasn’t happened in a while, so thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed the story so much, and I definitely had a fun (and slightly personal as well) time writing it.

Also, thank you to everyone else on the story who told me to look out for my personal health as well. You’re all very kind and amazing people💜

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.

Childish Ways (Genos x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You always throw magnets at Genos. He’s gotten used to it at this point.

A/N: I’m a simple person. I get an idea at midnight. I write it. I ruin my sleep schedule just for the hell of it. Hope y’all like it!

Word count: 1592

        Clink.

       You were a Class S Hero, just like him. You were also a teenager just like him. Except for the fact that you still considered washing dishes and buying groceries chores instead of training. And like any kid your guys’ age, you liked to mess around and fuck with people. Which currently explained why you were throwing magnets at him with the hope they would stick. 

       You had an audience too. “Ooh, you missed that one.”

       “Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” 

       Child Emperor stuck his tongue out at your reply before continuing to suck on his lollipop. The rest of the Class S heroes sat in the dim conference room either boredly grumbling under their breaths or, in Pig God’s case, inhaling a five-star steak dinner. The Hero Association had called them all here under the pretense that there was a Dragon-level threat in the area. Of course, Genos noted the usual heroes were missing: Blast, Metal Knight, and a couple others. So, as the remarkable heroes all laid in wait, they disinterestedly played on personal gadgets and other devices. 

       It was early on when Genos found you took a liking to throwing magnets at him. When you first sat in the conference room with him after freshly joining Class S as an exceptional hero, you had excitedly asked if he could ‘hold those souvenir magnets like your fridge at home’ while observing his metallic form up and down. From that day forward, anytime you saw him roaming your city or entering the Hero Association’s onyx skyscraper, you would pull out a handy stack of flat magnets and flick them at him like a deck of cards. 

       Ding.

       “YN, you have terrible aim.” The child who sat next to you watched your Hawaii magnet hit the server robot in the corner of the room, causing it to let out a slew of concerned beeps before toppling over.

       “Shut it, pipsqueak, I’m working on it.” You stick your tongue out of the corner of your mouth, squinting at your target before flicking the card with your super-powered strength. It flew past an undisturbed Genos’ head, ruffling his bangs on the way by before smacking anticlimactically into the wall behind him. Saitama next to him lets out a humorous grunt before returning to drawing on the illuminated table with his gloves. 

       “Craaaap.” You groan and dramatically drop your head down onto the glass surface. Child Emperor pats your back reassuringly. 

       “One day, YN.” 

       “It’s gonna happen today, squirt. Just watch me.” With a newfound, unearned enthusiasm, you whip your head back up and eye Genos, who unblinkingly stares back, completely unaffected. The cyborg was used to this, and was no longer threatened by your magnet-throwing like he had been at first. In the beginning, he had taken a fighting stance after your first lob, pointing his bodily weapons at you only to flinch in surprise when you screamed in fright. Since then, he let you have your fun, now knowing it was harmless… and a little endearing. 

       Genos was drawn out of his thoughts when a particularly small object made contact with his cheek, hitting it harshly before bouncing off and rebounding into Saitama’s unassuming face.

       “Double kill!” you announced in a mockingly deep voice before victoriously high-fiving the ten-year-old next to you. After that win, you excitedly wiggle in your seat, already aiming another magnet at him for consecutive bullseyes.

       “Go for the throat!” Child Emperor advises from beside you, pointing at Genos with shining eyes and bouncing up and down in his chair. You give him a disturbed look.

       “There’s something wrong with you, kid.” You shake your head but still flick the magnet from between your fingers. 

       Fwap.

       “AW YEAHHH!” You both cry out triumphantly, fist-bumping at the success.

       “YN! Child Emperor!” With perfect timing, director of the association enters the room and hurls dirty looks at the two of you. 

       “Sorry sir.” Following the scolding, your face grows ashamed and you swivel away in your chair, plopping your elbow onto the table and disappointedly tucking your chin into your hand.

        After the excitement dies down, Genos peels a France magnet away from his forehead wordlessly. He watches your form out of the corner of his eye and smiles softly, silently tucking the souvenir into his pocket.

                               ***

       “You totally like Genos.” 

       The Class S hero was standing dutifully outside of the bathroom, waiting for his master to do his business when he overheard you and Child Emperor still exiting the conference room. 

       “Well duh. How’d you figure that one out, genius?” Genos shifted on his feet at your confession. At least one of you had your emotions figured out.

       “C’mon YN, you’re like, way old, just tell him!” 

       You scoff. “I’m only a few years older than you! Anyways-”

       “Still,” the child muttered under his breath.

       “Anyways,” you interrupted bitterly, “it’s not like he’s gonna like me back. He’s totally cute, but quiet and emotionless.”

       “I’m not sure I wanna hear this anymore-”

       “I’m not gonna confess any time soon, and neither is he. I’m just too nervous and shy.” Your voices were growing closer and the cyborg panicked, pushing his way into the men’s room and holding the door open just enough that he could continue eavesdropping. 

       “Pansy-ass, just do it. He’s like a robot, what’s he gonna do?”

       “Shut it, you know he’s more than that. For now, I’ll just stick to-”

       “Genos?” Saitama exited the stall, staring bewilderedly at his disciple. “Did you follow me in here?” He began to wash his hands while still warily eyeing the blond. 

       Genos stays silent for a second, contemplating the conversation he had just overheard. You were attractive by societal standards, and never tried to actually hurt or insult him. Plus, you reminded him of a part of himself he lost long ago. A part he could never have again thanks to his vendetta and cybernetic self. You were playful and fun-loving, and so optimistic about life that it reminded him of happier days in his old schools, surrounded by other kids who thought life would always be that easy. Memories of you throwing magnets at him stood brighter than any others that he had formed since the death of his family, and he liked it that way. He liked the effect you had on him. No, he liked you.

       “Master,” Genos suddenly voiced. The bald hero hummed while exiting the bathroom, the blond trailing after. 

       “How do you confess your romantic feelings to a girl?”

       “What the hell, Genos?!”

                               ***

       It was perfect. It was grade school, and he liked to think it reflected the same childishness of you throwing things at him to hint that you harbored a crush on him. It was a handwritten note, and Genos traveled all the way to your city to deliver it to you. 

       “YN,” he monotonously called out when he spotted your figure observing the streets from a rooftop. You grew scarlet at the sight of the cyborg making his way up to you. Nervously, you began to twirl a lock of hair around your finger, watching with wide eyes as he approached you emotionlessly. 

       “Genos.” Your voice caught in your throat as you struggled to breathe normally. 

       “Here.” His face was intimidatingly blank, but you expected nothing less as he presented a folded up note to you. With trembling hands, you accepted the slip of paper and unfurled it slowly. 

       You attract me like my metal attracts your magnets. 

Time stopped.

       You pinched yourself then closed your eyes harshly, opening them only to see the note still held those words. Looking back up at Genos, you began to giggle slightly. Then you started to laugh. It slowly grew into the elegant wheezing of dying camel as you held your stomach from the pain, your face frozen in hilarity. Your chortles didn’t stop until you saw Genos’ shoes back up slowly, and you glanced up to see his head turned away in shame. Quickly, you stood up straight, coughing awkwardly to disguise the remnants of your humor while wiping away a few tears that had leaked. 

       “I- guh,” you guffawed before covering your mouth guiltily, “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m laughing.” He didn’t respond or even move a muscle, so you continued. “I like you too, and this,” you hold up the note, “this is the best thing I have ever gotten from somebody.” You beam while taking a couple steps toward him. A gasp almost slips out at the sight of his glowing, yellow eyes at last staring into yours. Your heart begins to pound uncontrollably in response, and he comes closer as well. 

       “Good, I’m glad.” His smile was stiff and insincere at first, but when you returned your gaze to the cheesy note, it grew soft and genuine. You nodded along with his words while biting your lip and observing your scuffed shoes. Then, your eyes grew to the size of saucers when his hand came up and prompted you to look at him with a small pressure on your chin. You obeyed and watched perplexedly as he fished for something in his pocket. 

       “Does that mean I can keep this, then?” Genos then whipped out an item you had been searching for since last week. 

       “YOU STOLE MY FRANCE MAGNET?!”

       “You threw it at me.”

       “IRRELEVANT!”

Gray Chains (Yandere Michael Gray x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Michael needs to see you. It’s been three days after being shot by Luca Changretta’s men, and he knows you need to see him too--especially since you’re chained up against his headboard for trying to escape from him too many times. 

A/N: I mean gotta admit I’m in a yandere Michael Gray kinda mood, and there’s only like two fics of that out there :( Gotta do whatcha gotta do ig. Enjoy!

Word count: 3068

        Polly’s grip on your wrist is so tight you can barely feel the tips of your bluing fingers. You’re used to such pain, though; underneath her hand are more permanent, more reddened markings from the handcuffs you had been wearing before Polly had found you.

        “We’re almost there,” she mumbled under her breath, head snapping back and forth every few minutes to search each room you passed. Your feet and calves ached from the pace she had set for the two of you, quick and impatient ever since you’d stepped out of Michael’s townhouse. You hadn’t moved this far, this fast for months. 

        Not since you first tried to escape Michael. 

        Even now, you couldn’t breathe. Every gasp of air was caught in your throat, choking you slowly while tasting of antiseptic. A sort of panic-stricken excitement ran through your body from being outside the gray walls of Michael’s home for the first time in who knew how long. 

        Just hours ago that was where you had been, one hand secured in a metal cuff that only reached as far as the bathroom, the other end of which was placed around Michael’s headboard. 

        You knew something had gone awry when Michael hadn’t returned home to deliver you your usual meal every six hours for a straight three days; when he hadn’t shyly knocked on the door to his own bedroom, a tray of homemade cooking in his hands and an innocent smile on his face; “I made you something, love.”

        Three straight days. Your stomach rumbled as a reminder even now. 

        “Speed up now, won’t you,” Polly ordered, still frantically pushing the pair of you past marble hallways filled with nurses and patients roaming. “The room is up here.”

        You’d given up asking what had happened to Michael. Polly was unresponsive to your every question, too focused on lugging you behind her to say anything else but “He’s been asking for you.”

        When you had first heard the door unlock to Michael’s house this morning, you had thought it was him. “Where the hell have you been?” you’d called, a disturbing hint of relief in your frustrated tone. If he was going to lock you up like an animal, you’d thought to yourself, he should at least have planned for times like this where he doesn’t show up for days. 

        But the second you heard the footsteps up the stairs sound lighter than normal, you sat up at attention in the bed, eyes locked on the doorway. Who…?

        Polly. Polly who had almost been hanged, who was now addicted to pills and thought she could see spirits, who was a strong, capable woman that defended others and cared deeply for her family. This was how Michael described his mother to you. He’d wanted you to meet her so badly, but only when you were ready--complaisant was what he really meant. 

        “You must be YN,” she’d said breathlessly, pausing only a second to study your situation. 

        You swallowed, unmoving from your spot on the bed. “Yes.” She was the first person you’d seen for so long aside from Michael. 

        Then she produced a key from the pocket of her coat and approached you swiftly. 

        “Yes, yes--please,” you held up your cuffed hand before her, eyes watering with relief, “please, you must get me out of here. He’s kept me here so long.” Finally, someone had come to save you, you thought. You were leaving this place forever.

        When that small voice in the back of your mind whispered, “What about Michael?” you ignored it.

        The metal chains had hit the floor with soft clangs, and she’d pocketed the key once again. You remembered rubbing a hand over the sore skin of your wrist, eyes wide with wonderment at the sight of your hand unaccompanied by gray metal. 

        Then Polly’s hand replaced your own, tight and unforgiving as she tugged at your arm. “Come along now,” she ushered you out of the house, you willingly following her like a ragdoll. “He wants to see you.”

        “What?” That’s not what you had expected her to say. 

        “He’s been asking for you.”

        You never bothered to ask who. After all, you should have never thought Michael’s mother had come to save you. 

        Gangsters, you told yourself. Criminal scum, the lot of them. You should have never taken a walk down the streets of Birmingham, and you should have never smiled at Michael Gray. 

        “They’re asleep, fuckin’ lazy scumbags,” Polly spat, slowing her pace when she caught sight of one of the larger hospital rooms. She didn’t let up on your wrist but instead pushed you into the room first before following.

        Michael. 

        What happened to him?

        Half of his upper body was wrapped in white surgical tape, while the other half was blanched enough to rival the tape’s color. His eyes were closed, puffy and rimmed with dark circles that hung over prominent cheekbones like upended crescent moons. His pale, chapped lips were held in a thin line that twitched at the new, noisier presences in the room.

        A shiver traveled down your spine at the sight of him in such a way, and suddenly your hands trembled at your sides. You couldn’t feel the pain in your wrist anymore. 

        “On your feet,” you heard behind you. A few moments, and some rustling. “Wait outside.”

        The door clicked behind you, then it clicked again. Locked. Polly came up from behind you a second later, ignoring your presence completely as she set two flasks of alcohol on the table of Michael’s hospital bed before pulling up a chair beside him. 

        Tugging off her coat, she moved to lay it over Michael’s legs until he spoke. 

        “Mum,” he mumbled blindly, his voice raw and strained from lack of use. 

        “Michael,” Polly cooed then, leaning in closer over him to dab his face with a rag. He was so broken that moving his lips to talk was strenuous enough to break a sweat. Even his fingers twitched slowly, weakly. You’d never seen him so frail and battered.

        Your heart stuttered in an unsettling way. 

        “Is she-”

        “Don’t move.” She soaked up the perspiration on his brow next, humming warningly. “You took four bullets.”

        “But-”

        “She’s here--the girl. I brought her like you asked.” Polly didn’t spare you a glance, not that you noticed. You were frozen in place, gaze still wandering over each wrap on his body. One, two, three, four bullets. He’s still alive. He’s still alive. 

        “YN,” he murmured, eyes opening a sliver. “YN. You’re here.” 

        You took a step toward him instinctively, hand raising from your side, before realizing your mistake and steadying yourself in place. 

        A smile tugged at his lips, paining him somewhat but not stopping him. He moved to sit up, to reach out for you as well, but a groan forced its way from him when he tried. With furrowed brows, he sucked a breath through his teeth and clenched his eyes shut. 

        Polly inhaled all the meanwhile, hovering her hands over his form to stop him from moving any more. “What did I tell you? Lie back.”

        “YN, please, come closer, love.”

        Polly turned her gaze towards you, accusatory. “Come!” she ordered, gesturing with her head to Michael’s other side. Her gaze fell back on him again when you drew closer to the bed, and her hard face softened. 

        Even with eyes struggling to stay open, Michael’s stare was adoring upon you. Like always, he stared at you as though you’d hung the moon and stars in the sky. You’d been under that loving, worshiping gaze for months now. Even now, it placed such a heavy weight on your chest that you found yourself stumbling closer, only flinching away when your fingertips made contact with his arm. 

        He drew you in like a moth to a flame ever since you first met. Only after he’d locked you up in his house did your feelings for him leave a disgusting taste on your tongue. 

        You stayed a few inches apart from him, ignoring how his hand struggled at his side to reach for you. 

        “Love, please. I want to feel you. I need to know you’re really here.”

        Two pairs of eyes were on you then. Polly’s glared like a coiled snake, and Michael’s pleaded like a puppy dog.

        You edged closer, letting your hand drop on top of his. Quickly, Michael maneuvered your fingers to interlock with his, and he sighed in relief. You forced your attention away from the warmth spreading in the center of your chest and onto Polly, who dug through her bag. 

        “I’ve missed you so much, love.” His thumb ran over your knuckles. “I was so afraid I’d never get to see you again. I was so scared I was never going to hold you again.”

        His words wrapped around you like a weighted blanket, heavy and overbearing yet warm and comforting. You wanted to throw up.

        “Michael,” Polly gathered his attention somehow, pulling his face toward hers as she laid out a pamphlet on his bedside. Australia, it read. “Please listen. John’s dead, and this whole town’s fucked. We need to get out of here.”

        “No,” he grunted, hand squeezing yours.

        She rolled her eyes. “You can take the girl. Just listen--there’s no mafia, no fucking American gangsters in Australia. Now, the doctor said you can walk in five weeks, and the boat leaves February thirteenth. That gives us plenty of time.”

        Five weeks. You glanced at Michael’s form, practically curling in on itself in pain. It was only held together by stitches and strips of cloth. He wouldn’t be out of the hospital for months, even if he could walk. 

        “We’re not going anywhere, Mum.”

        But you could. How could he possibly come after you, stuck here like a mummified corpse with four bullet holes in it. Without him to lock you up in his house, to tie you down and feed you and hold you, you could escape him easily. You would never have to see Michael again. 

        Your stomach growled, drawing Michael’s attention. His face fell into despair at the sound, and his eyes fluttered closed in regret. “YN, fuck, I’m so sorry. I never thought something like this would happen.”

        “Michael, please,” Polly begged, “we must go there and see your sister.”

        “Mum, later.” He looked back at you, face riddled with guilt. “Love, I’m sorry you were alone for so long.”

        “Michael-”

        “Mum!” His head snapped back to her, frustration barely concealed in his tone. “Please. Just go call Tommy and tell him to bring me a gun for the room. Business needs to be done first before we take any trips.”

        “Michael, it’s not safe. Not if we stay here. Tommy cannot protect us.”

        “Not if you don’t help him, Mum. Please,” he lay his other hand over the pamphlet, pursing his lips before pressing it closed once more in her grasp, “help Tommy first. Help the company first, then I promise we’ll board that train to Australia to go see Anna.”

        Tears began trailing down Polly’s face, and you glanced away out of courtesy. Michael was so different with his mother than he was with you. Around you, he treated you like you could do no wrong. Like you were the perfect woman, the perfect wife. Sometimes he held you as though you were made of glass, and other times he almost broke your ribs in his tight embraces. He’d whisper to you at night about how you were his greatest achievement, his greatest gift. 

        With his mother, now, he treated her as though she were a five-year-old in need of constant supervision and direction. Michael had vaguely told you about the situation with his mother, how he’d only first met her a couple years ago, but never much more than that. You had a feeling that if the Polly in front of you now were in any better shape, that same Polly that so clearly wanted you to act like a better girlfriend to her son and had dragged you down streets and through alleys just for him, then she would never give Michael’s orders a second thought. 

        Polly nodded, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks with gloved hands with a willing, yet trembling, smile. “Fine.” She rose to her feet, grasping her purse off the nightstand and shoving the pamphlet inside. “Fine. I’ll go see Tommy.”

        She moved to leave, snatching the two flasks off the table in the meantime, before she seemed to remember something. She turned back to Michael again, and her gaze flitted to yours once. 

        “The girl. I saw the state she was in, Michael.”

        He tensed, and as a result your hand twinged in pain. 

        “Do you want me to take her back to the house?”

        All of the tension left Michael’s body in a single sigh, and he shook his head once. “No,” he smiled softly, “I want YN to stay with me here.”

        She nodded slowly, eyes falling on you one final time before she disappeared out the door. When it clicked shut, Michael’s gaze latched onto you, half-lidded, exhausted, but still very much attentive to you.

        “You will, won’t you? Stay with me here, I mean?”

        Silence fell over the room. You stared down at the man who just days ago had towered over you on his own bed, hands and lips all over you, owning you. 

        “You know why I do this, love, don’t you?” he’d always say, lips running over the raw skin of your wrist, free of the cuff whenever he was present. “It’s because I need you.” Another kiss. “I will always need you.”

        Then you twisted your hand from his grasp, backing away from the bed with flared nostrils. “I,” you shook your head, “I don’t know.”

        “No, no, love, please, don’t do this to me.” Michael grunted and groaned as he fumbled against the sheets, body fighting against his urge to move. His arms raised slowly and weakly from his sides as if each had been strapped down with weights. When he reached out for you, the sweat on his wrinkled brow glistened in the sunlight. 

        “Don’t, please. I love you so much, love, don’t do this to me.”

        You wanted to argue with logic. You wanted to twist his words and say, well how could you do that to me for all that time, huh? How could you tell me you love me every day, knowing that the only reason I have to listen to you is because of the prison walls around me? If you really loved me, how could you do that to me?

        But you didn’t because--it seemed--he’d finally got what he’d wanted. Oh how you missed the days where he’d begged and pleaded with you to love him and understand him, and how you missed those times where you said you didn’t and that you hated him. And you missed when those words were the truth, because it meant he hadn’t beaten you into submission. 

        Yet.

        But he was winning, wasn’t he now?

        As he breathed faster and perspired harder and called your name louder, you rounded the bed, still just out of his grasp, before settling down into Polly’s former seat. 

        Right then, he quieted himself like a sated child sucking on a pacifier. 

        “Fine, then.” You spat, more angry at yourself than you could ever be at him--because look what you’d allowed him to do to you. “Fine, you fucking win.”

        He remained silent.

        “I’ll stay here with you. And five weeks from now, I’ll still fucking be here, helping you stand up and walk around. And then soon after we’ll go to fucking Australia with your mother. And then after that I’ll fucking follow you there too, won’t I?” You were disgusted with yourself, with the feelings he’d force-fed into you until they were all you wanted. 

        Then you grabbed his hand, still reaching for you from the side of the hospital bed, and intertwined your fingers. Perfect, you’d thought, a perfect fucking fit. 

        Michael pulled the pair of hands up to his lips, kissing along your knuckles and smiling all the while. “Thank you, love.” His lips trailed up your arm. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you.” Kiss.

        He tugged you closer and closer still, waiting until you leant over him enough to pull your lips onto his. 

        You had lost this battle against your own feelings long before Polly had dragged you out of the house, you realized. It was long before the day he’d first missed his meal with you, and you knew it because instead of wondering if you were going to be fed by your captor, you wondered if the man you loved was ever going to come home to you again. 

        You also knew it when his lips separated from yours for a breath, and he wasn’t the only one who had chased for a second chance at the kiss. 

        “Stay with me always, love,” he mumbled against your lips. “I need you. I’ll always fucking need you.”

        “I know,” you leaned your forehead against his, running your fingertips over his lips, his cheek, his hair. 

        “I won’t ever leave you again, love. I promise.” His hands cupped your face, holding you in place just an inch away so you could feel his words on your lips. “I won’t ever let anyone take me away from you.”

        “I’ll hold you to that,” you murmured, tearing your gaze away from his to stare down at the tape lacing his battered form. You hovered a hand over the strips, wondering where each of the four bullet holes was. 

        “And nobody will take you from me,” he tapped your chin, pulling your attention back to his face, “right, love?”

        “Never, Michael.” You shook your head, nose brushing his. “Never.”

        “That’s right,” he hummed under his breath. “Never.”

Part 2

CHARACTER FACIAL EXPRESSIONS (WRITING REFERENCE)

EYES/BROWS

his eyes widened

her eyes went round

her eyelids drooped

his eyes narrowed

his eyes lit up

his eyes darted

he squinted

she blinked

her eyes twinkled

his eyes gleamed

her eyes sparkled

his eyes flashed

his eyes glinted

his eyes burned with…

her eyes blazed with…

her eyes sparked with…

her eyes flickered with…

_____ glowed in his eyes

the corners of his eyes crinkled

she rolled her eyes

he looked heavenward

she glanced up to the ceiling

she winked

tears filled her eyes

his eyes welled up

her eyes swam with tears

his eyes flooded with tears

her eyes were wet

his eyes glistened

tears shimmered in her eyes

tears shone in his eyes

her eyes were glossy

he was fighting back tears

tears ran down her cheeks

his eyes closed

she squeezed her eyes shut

he shut his eyes

his lashes fluttered

she batted her lashes

his brows knitted

her forehead creased

his forehead furrowed

her forehead puckered

a line appeared between her brows

his brows drew together

her brows snapped together

his eyebrows rose

she raised a brow

he lifted an eyebrow

his eyebrows waggled

she gave him a once-over

he sized her up

her eyes bored into him

she took in the sight of…

he glared

she peered

he gazed

she glanced

he stared

she scrutinized

he studied

she gaped

he observed

she surveyed

he gawked

he leered

his pupils (were) dilated

her pupils were huge

his pupils flared

NOSE

her nose crinkled

his nose wrinkled

she sneered

his nostrils flared

she stuck her nose in the air

he sniffed

she sniffled

MOUTH

she smiled

he smirked

she grinned

he simpered

she beamed

her mouth curved into a smile

the corners of his mouth turned up

the corner of her mouth quirked up

a corner of his mouth lifted

his mouth twitched

he gave a half-smile

she gave a lopsided grin

his mouth twisted

he plastered a smile on his face

she forced a smile

he faked a smile

her smile faded

his smile slipped

he pursed his lips

she pouted

his mouth snapped shut

her mouth set in a hard line

he pressed his lips together

she bit her lip

he drew his lower lip between his teeth

she nibbled on her bottom lip

he chewed on his bottom lip

his jaw set

her jaw clenched

his jaw tightened

a muscle in her jaw twitched

he ground his jaw

he snarled/his lips drew back in a snarl

her mouth fell open

his jaw dropped

her jaw went slack

he gritted his teeth

she gnashed her teeth

her lower lip trembled

his lower lip quivered

SKIN

she paled

he blanched

she went white

the color drained out of his face

his face reddened

her cheeks turned pink

his face flushed

she blushed

he turned red

she turned scarlet

he turned crimson

a flush crept up her face

WHOLE FACE, ETC.

he screwed up his face

she scrunched up her face

he grimaced

she winced

she gave him a dirty look

he frowned

she scowled

he glowered

her whole face lit up

she brightened

his face went blank

her face contorted

his face twisted

her expression closed up

his expression dulled

her expression hardened

she went poker-faced

a vein popped out in his neck

awe transformed his face

fear crossed her face

sadness clouded his features

terror overtook his face

recognition dawned on her face

SOURCE

Can I Please be added to tag me for reborn?

Yep, I got u🤩

Hello! It’s currently 1 am here and I just finished binge reading the reborn series and I’m just here to say I loved it and it entertained me so much! can I be on the taglist so I get notified when there’s a part six? Thank you :DD

Agdjhdakjd stayin’ up all night just to read fanfiction gang, where ya at?

Anyways, thank you so much! I’m really glad so many people are enjoying it! I’ll for sure put you on the official tag list!