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sinofwriting · 3 months

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Every Kiss Begins With Tabs - Max Verstappen

Words: 1,544 Summary: Max and her have a tradition that was born from their first kiss. Note(s): The idea for this fic popped into my head one night, didn’t know what driver to do with it, and then quickly realized Max is the only option with him driving for a literal energy drink company. Also, this features Max and Charles being best friends, because your honor, I love them. (and features a bit of Ferrari bashing, because of course)

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At the end of their first date, Max had watched as she shyly reached into her purse, fishing for something, before pressing a small thing into his hand and instinctively he held it. He didn’t even get a second to figure out what it was, since she kissed him as soon as it was pressed into his hand. It was small, barely a second, just a peck. But it had made him flush, staring at her with wide eyes before he murmured a quiet again.

Her bottom lip had found its way between her teeth for a second, before she nodded at his hand, the one she had pressed something into. For the kiss. He remembers her mumble, making her all the more cute to him, how she was shy yet bold in the same breath.

It had been near painful to look away from her, but he forced his eyes down as he uncurled his hand and saw a generic soda tab sitting in his palm. Her words rang in his ears and memories of watching girls in school give them to boys run through his head and he’s pressing their hands together, keeping it between their palms as he kisses her.

—

Max’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he messes with the tab on his can of Red Bull. The sound of the press and his fellow drivers' voices washing over him. When it easily tears off, he pockets it, just as he’s asked a question.

“Over these last few months, you’ve been a lot happier. Many people thought it was you winning races making you so happy, but with Singapore happening, that has been disproven. Is there something other than winning that makes you so happy?” Max’s eyes darted over to his press officer, personal questions were on the no list for after races. She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow and he has to resist letting his brows press together. She clearly didn’t think this was personal and in nature he supposes it wasn’t, but it was leading. Raising the microphone to his lips, he speaks. “Well, I think I’d have a very boring, shit life if the only thing that made me happy was winning.” The reporter coughs, “Of course. But nothing new in your life?” “Not that I can think of.” There’s a frown on the reporter's face, but they don’t ask anything else, and the session is called to a close.

“I fucking hate reporters.” Max murmurs as he walks out the room. Charles snorts, hearing him and gently bumping their shoulders together. “I couldn’t tell.” “Haha. Was a good race for you today, though.” “I feel like I need a fucking bodyguard. I’ve been getting threats like crazy.” Max winces, having seen some for himself and also knowing from experience how bad they could get. “Ferrari hasn’t hired any for you?” He scoffs, “No, too much faith, I suppose.” “Stick close, come to Red Bull’s hotel with me, I’ve got an extra room and security.” “Ooh.” Charles teases, poking at his side as they exit the building. “Look at the golden boy with his security.” Max rolls his eyes, but feigns away as he reaches out again. “Are you coming or not?” He scoffs again. “Of course. I’m too pretty to be killed.” It’s Max’s turn to scoff, “You're something, alright.” he mutters.

Entering Red Bull’s garage with Charles would feel weird if it weren't for the fact that for nearly all of this season Bradley, Christian, Tom, GP, or himself had all been sneaking the Ferrari driver in. Max knows that Christian is hoping with them allowing Charles access to their garage and helping hide him away from Ferrari that he’ll join their team, and Max isn’t too proud to say that he’s started to wish that too.

“I’ve gotta get something from Christian first.” Max murmurs when Charles makes a confused hum when they don’t immediately go to his driver’s room. “Also, might want to text something to collect your stuff.” “Andrea will get it. I just need the hotel and room number so he can send some stuff over.” “Don’t want to sleep in Red Bull branded clothes?” Charles sniffs, sticking his chin in the air, perfectly making a haughty face. “Of course not. I have fashion sense.”

—

“You want room service or something delivered from somewhere?” Charles stares at him, “Mate.” Max grins at him before returning his gaze to his phone. “Had to ask. We do have Brazil next weekend after all.” “I want all the tacos in the world right now.” “Margaritas as well?” It’s silent for a second, “why not. Just one though.” Max rolls his eyes, typing out the number ten before hitting send.

“Food has been ordered.” “Thank god. I’m starving.” “Not going to offer to pay?” Max jokes, even though he’d refuse. “God no.” He scoffs before grinning at him. “Thank you, Max, honestly.” “It’s no problem.”

“When will the food get here?” Charles asks nearly thirty minutes later as Max unlocks the door. “Already here.” He tells him, opening the door up and stepping through.

Tossing his backpack to the armchair, he doesn’t see the confused look on Charles’ face or how it grows more confused when Max fishes something out of his pocket and holds it out, a grin on his face as he stands just beside the suite's sofa.

Charles nearly stumbles when a girl appears out of nowhere, words gathering on his tongue, only for them to die before they can form when she takes whatever it is out of Max’s hand and kisses him. He knows his mouth is open, jaw dropped, as he stares at the two.

“Hello.” Max murmurs, pulling away after pressing another kiss to her lips. Her head is tilted up a bit to look at him, nose scrunching a little as she smiles. “Hi. Well done on the race.” He grins and is unable to resist kissing her again before finally separating from her, only to wrap an arm around her and pull her into his side as he turns them both to face Charles. “Charles, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.” The other driver blinks at them for a few seconds before smiling. “Hello. It’s lovely to meet you.” He tells her, stepping forward to greet her with a hug, giving Max a thumbs up when she easily goes along with it. Max snorts at the thumbs up.

“Congrats on your race as well, Charles. Always nice to see you on the podium.” “Oh.” He can feel his cheeks turn a little pink at the compliment. “Well, it is always nice to be there, even if he is always taking the top spot.” She laughs and then she’s ushering them both to sit down at the small table nearly overflowing with food. “Oh my god.” Charles breaths, staring at it all. “It’s beautiful.” “I think you're just hungry, mate.” Max remarks and Charles notices how she passes whatever Max handed her before they kissed back to the driver before giving him a peck on the lips. “Of course, I’m hungry.” His eyes wander over all the food, all the tacos, and he knows that Andrea will be pissed at their next session when Charles tells him what he ate, but he knows he won’t regret it. Even when Andrea makes the session a triple.

“Can I ask a question?” Charles asks, after they are done eating. The twelve tacos he ate and two margaritas he had in combination with pleasant company made him feel content. “Is it a stupid one?” “Max.” She playfully scolds, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Of course.” “What is with the thing? The small thing you pass back and forth.” “Oh,” her eyes are a little wide and she seems to have stiffened and it has Charles' eyes widened. “You do not have to answer. I was just curious. You can of course tell me to shut up.” “No, it’s okay.” She shares a look with Max. “It’s just a habit, I don’t even really think about it anymore.”

Charles watches as she carefully extends her hand and opens it so he can stare at the thing the couple has been exchanging. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s a tab to a Red Bull can.

“Before I kissed Max for the first time, I gave him a tab from a soda can. It’s become a tradition of sorts.�� His face softens at the explanation, and this whole weekend he has missed Alex, but now more than ever he wishes that she was able to come with him. “That is very sweet.” His lips then curl into a smirk and he looks at Max. “Must make sex uncomfortable though.” “You mother,” Max cuts himself off as he hits Charles with a pillow, his fellow driver howling with laughter. Hitting him with a pillow again, Max looks at her to see her laughing as well, face bright with joy and his hand is ducking into his pocket pulling out a spare tab he always keeps on him, pressing it into her hand before kissing her, ignoring the fake sounds of throwing up from Charles as he does.

@gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67

#f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

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wildlife4life · 1 month

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Fuck-It Friday Coda

Here is my 7x01 coda that I'm also counting for Fuck-It Friday! So thank you for the tags @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @jesuisici33 and @diazsdimples! Posted to ao3 here.

“How the talk with Chris go? He still seeing being a two timer?” Marisol asks with a sly smile.

Eddie blows out a harsh breath, “There wasn’t much of a talk on my end.”

She quirks an eyebrow, “Oh? You just letting him work it on his own?”

He shakes his head, “Oh god no. That would have just made an even bigger mess.” Eddie has to look away from his girlfriend as he admits, “Actually I asked Buck to talk to him. He has some um... experience with the whole ‘player’ thing.”

Marisol’s wine glass smacks loudly on the coffee table in the silence that follows, and Eddie barely holds back a wince. Still, he doesn’t look at her. He never does when speaking about Buck.

“You had your newly single best male friend, with a history of getting around, talk to your son about not doing the exact same thing?” Marisol sound appalled and it has Eddie whipping around to see her actual reaction. His girlfriend looked upset and disgusted? What is that about?

“Um, yea. Buck has the insight into all of that and he’s reformed and all that.” Eddie tries defending.

She scoffs, “Reformed? Didn’t he just break up with his last girlfriend because he got bored.”

Well, that was a very poor recount of events that had already been poorly told by Buck and Eddie felt the low simmer of burgeoning anger, “Buck did not get bored. He was trying to live, move on from his death, and all that woman was doing, was being a constant reminder of it.”

The anger rises at Marisol rolling her eyes, “Like I said, bored. But that’s not really the point here.”

He grinds his back molars, “What is the point then, in your opinion?”

She narrows her eyes at his tone, “The point is Christopher isn’t going to learn to respect women, be a courteous young man by talking to a man whose disastrous dating history is printed in a best-selling book by someone from said history. He’s Christopher’s fun friend, the guy he goes to when he doesn’t want to get in trouble and you’re feeding into it.”

Eddie slams his beer to the coffee table, making Marisol’s almost empty wine glass wobble from the force, and rises his feet, “After me, Buck is one of the most important people in Christopher’s life. You have not a single understanding of what they are to each other, what they have been through. What Buck has personally been through. He is not some womanizing asshole corrupting my son. He is Christopher’s best friend; my best friend, and the person I know I can turn to when I need help with Christopher. With anything.”

Marisol rises to her feet, “And you’re allowing him to continue take up the space I am trying to get into. I thought we we’re getting somewhere when you invited me to chaperon Chris’s date with you, when you opened up about your worries about him. But instead of letting me try to help you ran to a person you can’t bring up without looking away.”

He immediately proves her point and puts his gaze on the fireplace mantle, eyes roaming over every photo. There several of just him and his son, pre-LA to just last year before Christopher’s school dance. There are pictures of their family back in Texas and the entirety of the 118. Then there are photos with Buck. Christopher and Buck at the zoo. The trio of them at the mall fountain. Eddie’s graduation. Christopher’s 10th birthday. And second to last, Eddie and Buck, arms around each other’s shoulders at Hen and Karen’s vow renewal. At the end of all those photos sits the last family picture of Eddie, Christopher, and Shannon took at the beach.

Eddie thinks back on the picture Christopher turned down on his desk and the letter he almost didn’t read. He thinks about how his first instinct was to turn to Buck and not the girlfriend who witnessed Christopher’s player antics, someone who could give insight on how those girls felt. And then he realizes, Christopher wouldn’t have opened up about his mother to anyone, but Buck.

That space Marisol is trying to fit herself into, is too large, too broad, and perfectly Buck shaped. She would never fit.

With a sense of déjà vu, Eddie drops his gaze to floor and softly states, “I think you should go.”

💜🩷💜🩷

Wine glass rinsed out, beer bottle in the recycling, and a reusable tote bag just barely filled with Marisol’s few items left at his house sat near the door, Eddie relaxes back into his couch.

Marisol put up a lack-luster fight to leaving, but eventually she drowned the last of her wine and called an uber. “He’s not going stick around forever. He’s going to break both yours and Christopher’s hearts.” She warned, “And you’ll be just as alone as you were in the hardware store.”

Eddie held back a harsh retort and simply told her, “I haven’t been alone since I met him and I never will be if either one of us has a say about it.”

He opened the door, Marisol got into a little gray sedan, and she went back to the home Eddie helped destroy.

Picking up his phone from the coffee table, Eddie pulls up his contact favorites, smirking humorously at Marisol’s missing name, and presses the person at the very top. It rings twice, before, “Hey man, thought it was date night?”

“Asked her to go home.” Eddie replies.

Silence on the other end for a just a moment then, “Man, you really need to find a better way to break up with women.” Buck teases.

Eddie chuckles, “Well at least there was no mess to clean up this time.”

Buck hums in agreement before softly asking, “You doing okay?”

Not a single lie passed his lips when he answered, “More than. But you know what would help?”

“What?”

“Go-karts in the dessert.”

A laugh that makes Eddie feel warm all over, “It’s a date.”

Hope you all enjoyed! Tagging (no pressure): @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @disasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @buck-coded @devirnis @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @cal-daisies-and-briars @aroeddiediaz @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @bekkachaos @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @perfectlysunny02 @dangerpronebuddie @missmagooglie

#fuck it friday #tag game #coda fic #7x01 #my fic #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #shannon diaz #marisol #anti marisol #break up #buck is christopher’s other dad

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semifilms · 1 year

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☆HE HAS A CRUSH ON YOU | toru oikawa

a/n - this been marinating in the drafts since june. COLLECTING DUST BUNNIES.

cw - none

okay, oikawa has a flirty personality but when he is romantically interested in you i think he flirts completely differently. like he wants it to be obvious he’s into you without saying he’s into you. maybe he’s walking wi you to class and some girl comes up to him like; “oikawa can i talk to you for a moment?” he knows just by that twin she wants to confess to him. his eye merely twitches at the fact. “ah, sorry maybe another time i’m kinda busy.” he’d politely say to dismiss her. these small acts he starts to do when developing a crush on you, and they go completely unnoticed by you until someone else brings it up.

you wouldn’t believe it at first until you finally notice. then you tease him about it to get him to tell you. mainly to see if it’s true because you’re still skeptical. “oikawa what do you think about going on a date?” you’d ask him suddenly while walking to the train station. he tenses up, “on a date..?” he muttered with a raised brow. “yeah, some guys asked me out during lunch and i’m considering it but i’m asking you because you’ve been on plenty i assume.”

you’re lying, but he doesn’t know that so in the moment he feels stupid. stupid for even thinking for a second you were trying to ask him on a date. “what makes you think i’ve been on plenty?” he asks offended, hiding his disappointed look with a confused one. you shrugged and glanced at him “you get confessed to a lot so i assume you’ve gone at least one date.”

neither of you speaks for a few minutes. you walk in silence, you’re not really sure why but you didn’t feel the need to speak up until the setter breaks the silence.

“i don’t think you should go on a date with him, he’s a bad guy. i’ve heard a lot about him.” you smiled to yourself at oikawa’s delayed response. “that’s funny,” you scoff before slowly lying down your pace and coming to a stop at a stop light. you turned to him with a smirk on your face. “what’s funny?” he asks

“i didn’t even tell you who he was,” you stated matter-of-factly. you swore you could hear his heart drop as he stopped to face you with a wary look on his face. “didn’t you though?” he hesitantly asked and you shook your head ‘no’.

the brunette rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “well what’s his name?” he asked. “doesn’t exist.” you stated with a shrug.

“is he a foreign student? that’s a weird name-” you laughed at him and cut him off. “no, he doesn’t exist. i made it up, i just wanted to see how you’d react.” you said as the light turned green and the walking figure lit up causing you to cross the street on instinct. oikawa followed quickly behind.

“why would you want to see my reaction?”

you shrugged again, you were now at the train station and you had pulled out your ic card and tapped it while walking into the station.

“do you have a crush on me?” your question was sudden and you caught oikawa off guard for the umpteenth time today. “why?” he asks his voice quiet. you both stood on the platform with other waiting people for your train and you glanced over to oikawa.

“does it matter? i just want to know if it’s true or not.”

there was another moment of silence between the two of you. though it wasn’t too quiet as trains could be heard getting closer and people around you kept talking. “what happens if i say yes?”

you don’t respond for another moment as you thought carefully about what to say next. “to be honest, i’m not sure right now, but we’ll figure it out together.”

he didn’t want to ruin his opportunity. though your response was vague he took it as his sign. the setter took a deep breath and turned his whole body to face you, you did the same.

“yes, y/n. i have a crush on you and i have for a while now and i’d really like to take you or on a date or something—only if you want to.”

your stomach fluttered and twisted into knots. you didn’t know if actually hearing it from his mouth made a difference but whatever feelings you had for oikawa. that you thought were just platonic did not feel like it at the moment.

“i want to.”

©semifilms do not copy, repost or translate my works

reblogs appreciated!

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #anime #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa #oikawa fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #oikawa drabble #haikyuu oikawa #toru oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa imagine #hq oikawa

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scribblesofagoonerr · 1 month

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How can we help you? | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, H- How can we help you?

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

"Come on. It's not gonna be as bad as you think it'll be" Leah tries her luck to get you out of her car after you arrive at London Colney.

You can't help but scoff at the older blonde, "Easy for you to say that" You mumble, somewhat loud enough for her to still hear.

"I promise you it won't be. It's all in your head, Bubs" Leah chuckles as she turns the ignition off on her car.

The familiar feeling of nerves begins to return, biting your lip and instinctively tugging at the sleeves of your hoodie, "I don't want to go in there" You speak quietly.

"Well you can't sit in the car instead" The blonde chuckles amusedly, shaking her head, "Come on, I'm with you, every step of the way" she states.

"Nuh uh I don't want too" You stubbornly tell her, crossing her arms as you try and put up a fight.

You don't know why you're reacting like this, it's only a meeting but as soon as you step in that building, it'll be a reminder of what is happening.

Leah resists urge to groan inwardly, "Well you can't sit here in the car and sulk, can you?" she asks.

"Why can't I?" Your quick to fire back at her.

"Stop being difficult, Y/N" Leah leans across you and unbuckles your belt, "Come on, we need to go in before we're late" she adds.

"Nah I'm alright, I'd much rather stay here thanks" You state as you try and plant yourself in your seat, you really don't want to go inside of that building right now and have a meeting with everyone.

"That's not an option, Y/N" Leah huffs and shakes her head, "I'll do you a deal, alright? How about after had this meeting then I'll buy you ice cream afterwards. Hows' that sound?" she bargains with you.

You can't help but eye her suspiciously, "It's the middle of Autumn. What's the catch?" You ask her, curiously.

"No catch, we just need to go into that meeting and sit through it without kicking off, think you can do that?" Leah raises her eyebrow, questioningly.

Shrugging your shoulders, you weigh up your options; You really don't want to go in but you sure do love ice cream, "Dammit, why'd you have to bring ice cream into it? You know how much I love it" You whine dramatically.

Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "What can I say, I just know the way to your heart?" she jokes as she ruffles your hair, "We just need to go in there and see what is said, easy as that" she adds.

You narrow your eyes at her waiting for her to say something else, "Fine, alright but I want ice cream afterwards... with sprinkles" you state, like it's the most important thing.

"Okay fine deal, ice cream with sprinkles but first, we need to go in there so you need to get your ass out of the car" Leah nudges you playfully to get out of the car.

"Thanks for joining us today girls" Jonas shakes your hand and guides you inside of his spacious office.

"Well it's not like I have much choice to be here unfortunately" You can't help but mutter as you slump down into one of the empty chairs around the table.

Only taking a few seconds to realise there's more people in here than you realise; Jonas, Kim, Leah and the rest of the coaching staff, along with some of the medical staff.

You can't help but feel like your suffocating already.

"Y/N" Leah gives you a look that all but tells you to knock the attitude down and you've only just walked in the room.

"What? It's true, you bribed me with ice cream but it doesn't mean I can't be honest about my feelings" You speak honestly, shrugging your shoulders.

"You bribed her?" Kim looks at Leah in disbelief.

"She refused to get out of my car, I had to get her out of there somehow. What else was I supposed to do?" Leah questions the older women.

"Hey, I kept my end of the deal so now you have to keep yours. I want ice cream with sprinkles" You declare, shifting back to lean in your seat as you cross your arms.

"After the meetings' over" Leah reminds you with an amused smile on her face, "Lets' just listen to what Jonas and the rest of the guys have to say first" she adds.

"We've missed your sense of humour around here, Y/N" Jonas chuckles, listening to you stubbornly demand ice cream, "Anyways I think we're getting a little of topic here with what we need to discuss about what's best going forward and how we can help you" he tells you.

You huff and narrow your eyes at your head coach, "Cut the small talk, Jonas. Am I being sidelined or not?" You ask, not wanting to beat around the bush about things.

"Y/N just let him talk" Kim states, giving you a disapproving look.

Trying to resist the urge to groan inwardly and shake your head, "I can't deal with the small pauses or the suspensful waiting, I need to know what's going on. So am I or not?" you wonder.

"Well based on everything that has happened, the club feels that it might be best to maybe, take some time--" Jonas' words were cut short.

"I knew it, I knew it!" You exclaim aloud, taking everyone off guard as you feel the anger and upset to coming to light, "I can't be benched, I can't... I need to play football, it's my passion!" you insist.

"Y/N we think it'll be best so you're able to take that time, take a step back and focus on yourself" Jonas explains.

You glance around the room, looking at the rest of the coaching and medical staff who all have the sort of facial expressions.

They were all in agreement with this decision.

"This will be good for you do this, Y/N" Kim states.

Shaking your head in disagreement, you try and keep your emotions in check before you say something you will regret, "No it's not" you disagree with your captain.

"I know you don't like it Y/N but this will be good for you take a break away from football" Leah tries her luck to get you to understand this better but you're feeling too upset about this to even want to hear them out.

"It won't! I can't do it!" You grit your teeth and shake your head.

"You need this break Y/N" Kim tells you.

"No, no. What I need-- What I need is to be on the pitch! What I need is to be able to play football, it's my hobby, it's my career, it's something... it's something that I love!" You shout aloud as you look mainly in the direction of Leah, Kim and Jonas, "Why am I being punished for this?!" you exclaim.

"Bubs, this isn't a punishment. We're doing this as a way we can help you" Leah tries to reassure you.

"No, like hell it is! This isn't helping, none of you guys are helping me!" Your not willing to listen to any further conversation as you bolt up from your seat, "This isn't helping me, this is killing me and well if so then you guys' might as be the one to hold the blade to my wrists!" you all but scream as you dart out of the office.

"Y/N wait--" Leahs' quick to try and follow after you.

"Let her go and calm down Leah. I can understand that this is a lot for her to take in" Jonas tells the blonde, shaking his head as she sits back down, "We let her calm down and then we can try and talk to her again, we will be there for her" he adds.

"Kiddo?... Shit, kiddo!" Katie gasps in shock as she finds you taking your anger out on a nearby brick wall, quickly springing into action and taking a hold of your knuckles, which are now bloody and she's pretty sure broken too, "You're okay. Calm down, I've got you" she states gently.

"I hate this, I hate this... I hate this!" You break out into sobs as you cling onto the older girl, "I hate this" You repeat your words as you bury your head in Katies' chest.

"Easy there, easy" Katie guides you to crouch down against the wall as she holds your hands in her own, "Talk to me. What's going on?" she asks once you've calmed down enough.

"They're forcing me to take a break from football" You cry aloud, not willing to accept it just yet, "I can't... I can't do that" you add.

Katie frowns in confusion, "Who is?" she asks.

"All of them in the office-- Leah, Kim... Jonas, all the coaches and medical. They're sidelining me, it's not fair!" you tell her upset.

"Oh, okay I see" Katie nods in understanding and smiles sympathetically at you, "Listen, I know it's a lot to take in and it might not seem like it but this will help to take the time away from all of the pressure" she explains.

You pull away and frown at the older girl, "Seriously, not you, too? Whys' everybody against me" You shake your head in disagreement.

"Nobodys' against you, kiddo. We just want to do what we can to help you" Katie tries to reason with you and explain it better, "When you were in the hospital, it killed us all to to see you like that again-- It killed me to see you like that, selfishly I thought you being hospital wasn't a good decision but I was so scared and angry to realise that it was done to help you and keep you safe" she tells you honestly.

"You and Leah fought about that the whole time though" You remind her as you felt your knuckles begin to throb from the impact of punching the wall, "I think I did something stupid here" You mumble as you glance down at your knuckles.

"Your upset and you lashed out, it's normal to do things without thinking" Katie chuckles as she stands up and offers you a hand up, which you take as she slings her arm around you, "Come on, lets' take a trip to medical and see if they can help, aye?" she suggests, leading the way to that said place.

You love football, it's your passion but maybe hearing Katie say that, made it made some kind of sense that you need this break to take a step back and focus on other things.

Relieve the pressure of being expected to be so great, switch off and ignore the fans.

You can just ignore the rest of the world around you.

#woso x reader #arsenal x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #woso one shot #arsenal women x reader #heavy angst #leah williamson #innerdemonsfic #arsenal wfc x reader

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zbis · 2 months

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☆.｡.:*summary : your boyfriend comes home bruised and bloody yet again

☆.｡.:*pairing : boxer!gunwook x reader

☆.｡.:*warnings & other : blood, mentions of fighting, a bit of angst if you squint(?), fluff, not revised

☆.｡.:*w/c : ~1k

“stupid fucking-” gunwook groans out loud. “such a lucky hit, i swear...” he taps his finger on the marble surface of the kitchen island contemplatively. “i was just distracted,” he tells himself.

he places his head on the counter, mulling over the loss of the night. god, if only he did a left hook instead of the right.

“ow..” he lifts head up and looks down, noticing his forehead wound has opened back up and has left a blood stain on the counter. “shit,” he mumbles. just as he’s about to go grab a towel to clean it up, you emerge from your room.

“you’re back?” you yawn, your hair looking just a dishealved as his.

he clears his throat, diverting his gaze awkwardly from your exposed torso when you stretch. “yeah..” he mumbles. you laugh at how red his ears get until you notice the forehead wound among many others. you see his blood stained cheeks and eye that's just asking to get swollen if untreated. “gunwook what the fuck?” you scold him. “i-” you cut him off when you notice the stain he left on the counter. “and you’re leaving your blood everywhere!”

he scoffs, “ i was just about to clean that up..” he sighs, “im not really in the mood for this right now..” just then do you notice the way his eyes are downturned and his usual bubbly self is nowhere to be found.

“did you-”

you dont finish your sentence because the way hes carrying himself tells you everything already. “oh wook..” you walk up to him and cup his face gently, although he still winces at the touch. “it’s just one loss you know?” he sighs, “i was gonna use the money to take you out or something, we haven't done anything fun in months.”

“i dont care about that, you’ve done alot for me already plus i dont want you to die while making me happy.”

you dont even need to ask questions to know. gunwook typically never fought past his range. he would only go against people whom he knew he had a good chance against. however, every saturday there was an event where the fighters of the area could go against one of the strongest fighters in the city. the cash prize was good but what was even better was the reputation that came with it and your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to have it.

you were supportive but for the past 4 months, every Saturday without fail, gunwook would come home beat to a pulp. you tried to get him to give up but he was determined to win one day, he just had to get stronger.

you sigh, looking over his face. his lips were more swollen than normal and some strands of his dark hair were crisp with blood. “can you just-” “of course.” you cut him off. you place a chaste kiss on his lips, which he hisses in pain at and you laugh.

you silently lead him to the bathrooom where you keep a first aid kit on deck. you grunt as you pick up the heavy box, refusing to let gunwook help you. “just sit your ass down.” when he does you give him a once over.

he looks like a stray puppy who’d just been abandoned at the side of the road. you let out an exasperated sigh at his appearance, “you know, im not a licensed nurse. you need to go to the hospital one of these days.” he plays with his fingers while you get the kit ready for use.

“why would i do that when i have my own personal fixer upper right here?” he jabs at your side playfully. “ow, it hurts when you do it.” you glare at him with an annoyed but light smile.

“too strong.”

“not strong enough apparently,” he mumbles, once again reminded of yet another saturday loss. “well,” you take place on his lap with a cotton pad wet with alcohol in hand. instinctively he moves his hand to your waist to keep you steady. “you’re strong enough to keep me safe,” you whisper.

before he can protest or say anything demeaning about himself you place the cotton on the cut closest to his eye. he hisses in pain and glares at you. “be gentler,” he mumbles. you hum, moving the piece of cotton across whatever cut or gash you came across, making sure to change it whenever it got too saturated with blood.

“seriously though...you need to be more careful wook,” you place a kiss on the cut you just cleaned and place a bandaid over that. “my biggest fear is getting a call about a wound I won’t be able to fix.”

he nods solemnly, placing his patched up face on your shoulder. you sigh, choosing to play with his hair to soothe his stress and sadness.

after a couple beats of silence, he suddenly pips up.

"but next saturday i've definitely got it in the bag!"

#zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #drabble #gunwook imagines #zb1 headcanons #gunwook headcanons #gunwook fluff #mtl zb1 #zb1 fluff #gunwook x reader #send asks im new im excited to write for zb1!

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iwrotetheilliad · 1 year

Text

Shut up & Drive

♡ You and Reo try so hard to have moments to yourself, but the paparazzi say otherwise. Eventually, Reo gets sick of it.

Genre: P WITHOUT P ;)

CW: Slight exhibitionistm (you can see the rest of the world but they can’t see you) Y’all get it on in the back of Reo’s limo, fingering, dirty talk, dry humping a little. I’m pretty sure that’s everything, but please be wary cuz this is smut!

Characters: Fiancé! Reo Mikage

A/N: i was in a mood this morning, had THE MOST Reo brainrot one could possibly have and made this! I didn’t proofread so if autocorrect is a bitch and changes this then that’s not my fault :p. Also, tumblr was like “no, you can’t post this,” but imma try again. Bon appétit my loves!

“Keep walking sir,” Reo’s head bodyguard commands as he and his team fend off the mob of people desperate to catch a glimpse of their favorite soccer player.

Reo has his arm slung over your shoulder and his other hand clutching the arm closest to him. Even though you’re not the one the public is after, your fiancé never fails to make you his number one priority. When you two finally make it through the swarm of fans and flashing lights, Reo guides you into the car before him.

Suddenly, he feels someone grab his shoulder. For a brief moment he assumes it’s his body guard, but when the stranger starts pulling, the purple-haired boy’s fight-or-flight instincts kick in. He shoves the hand off of him and turns around, offering a withering glare to whoever was the culprit.

“Fuck off,” he growls before climbing into the car after you.

“Are you ok?” you ask once he slams the door behind him.

He’s silent for a moment, before turning his body towards you. Reo shuffles closer towards you and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His arms snake around your waist, and pull you closer to him, so that your body is half in his lap.

“I hate them so much,” he groans into your neck. “All I wanted was one moment with you and the world decided to make me its bitch.”

“I know,” you mumble comfortingly, bringing your hand up to stroke his hair.

The car starts moving and the two of you stay in that position. Eventually, Reo knocks on the divider. “Play some music,” he sternly says, and just like that, the speakers come to life. After a few moments, Reo commands again, “Raise the volume.”

“But sir-”

“Do it,” he commands again.

The volume is promptly raised. The two of you continue sitting in silence until you feel Reo’s soft lips pressing against your neck. At first, he just feathers small pecks all over, but soon, he starts to suck gently at the most sensitive part.

“R-r-reo,” you stammer. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, instead he just sucks harder. Subconsciously, your hips begin grinding against his thigh.

Reo leaves the first mark he made and starts a new one further down your neck. His hands start guiding your hips along his thigh. When he finishes crafting this new mark, he hums as his iron grip stops you ministrations in its tracks. You let out a whine as you crane your neck to get a good look at him.

“Mean,” you mumble as you go in for a kiss.

Reo’s hand leaves your hip to grab a handful of your hair. He yanks your head back after a few seconds of making out, a string of spit lingering between your lips.

“Do you want me?” he asks lowly. You eagerly nod, and he scoffs, “Even though our driver can hear you? Even though I could open these windows and let the world get a view of my pretty little girl?”

“I want you Reo,” you confirm, beginning to roll your hips again.

Reo lets out an animalistic groan as the curve of your ass starts to brush up against his cock. He rests his forehead at the back of your neck while muttering, “You’re such a little whore aren’t you? You get off to the idea of the rest of the world watching us huh? You want the rest of the world to see those pretty little tits as you ride my fingers?”

“Please.”

“Well the rest of the world doesn’t get to see how beautiful you are when you’re completely fucked out, only I do,” he growls protectively. “I’m gonna watch you fall apart over my fingers like the little slut you are.”

With that, Reo’s hands snake down beneath your skirt’s waistband. He doesn’t go beneath your panties though, instead just rubbing your clit through the thing fabric.

“Already so wet,” he coos, “such a good girl, ready to take my dick whenever and wherever.”

You nod eagerly, and stop getting off on your lover’s thigh. Instead, you hungrily grind into Reo’s hands, letting your panties get even more wet. You pull your shirt over your head, and lean forward a little to undo your bra clip. Finally, you relax back into your fiancé’s body, snaking an arm up around his neck.

Reo murmurs praises into your ear, before finally, he can’t take just feeling you through the fabric. When he breaches the band of your underwear and finally puts his fingers in you, you moan. It’s so loud and shameless, but you don’t care. Reo is pushing his fingers in you, and it’s all so, good! Your hands move to your chest.

“Reo!” you cry when he curls his fingers in just the right way. “Oh my god, please don’t stop, please- yea right there- ahh, ahh, ah!”

Your fluids spill all over his fingers as Reo soothes you. “That’s it my love, that’s it,” he whispers into your ear as you squirm in his lap. You feel your body physically relax, a result of the sudden pleasure leaving your system.

You take time to relax, and smooth out your breathing, as Reo uses his free hand to grab your discarded shirt. Reo adjusts you so that now, your legs are shut and both are hooked over his thighs. You lean against him after pulling your shirt over yourself. The music is still blaring, but Reo pulls out his headphone and hands you one while putting the other in his own ear. For the rest of the ride, you fall asleep curled into your soon-to-be-husband.

Hopefully this works now!

#reo mikage #mikage reo #bllk reo #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock reo #reo mikage smut #reo smut #reo mikage x reader #reo x you #reo mikage x you #bllk smut #blue lock smut

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thetarttfuldickhead · 4 months

Text

It’s a little unclear, in the end, how the conversation gets there, because all in all the Richmond dressing room isn’t the site of that many sex jokes, not since Colin came out and no longer feels the need to make them. But they’re still lads, yeah, and young, mostly, so the jokes still happen, even if it’s just gentle ribbing, and silliness.

So: somehow, one morning halfway into Roy’s first year as head coach, the topic turns to sex, of the rougher variety. Roy’s only listening with half an ear, he’s busy sketching out the new trick plays Nate’s dreamed up on the whiteboard, and he doesn’t really catch the build-up, but when Jamie’s name is mentioned his ears perk up without him even really noticing. It’s become instinct at that point, keeping track of Jamie (even as Roy does his best to give all his players at least some semblance of equal attention).

“We know that Jamie likes it rough, though,” Zorro says, and the rest of the group oh:s and ah:s either knowingly or in surprised glee.

“Eh?” Jamie sounds startled by the assertion, but not particularly put off. (He never really is, as long as he gets attention, Roy thinks with an internal scoff that’s far fonder than he’d ever admit to.) “What makes you say that?”

“You told us!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy can see Jamie shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate.” Still not bothered, but clearly not understanding what Zorro is getting at either.

Isaac throws him a disbelieving glance. “You don’t remember, bruv? It was when you first came here, before you started going out with Keeley.”

“Yeah,” Colin interjects, “You’d only been here for about two weeks, I think, but you came into training with these marks and bruises, and it turned out you’d hooked up with a girl the night before, but you hadn’t known she was a professional dominatrix before you got to her place.”

Hoots and titters at that, delighted and amused but not unkind.

“Exactly,” Zorro says. “And you told us you’d just gone with it because you have to try everything at least once, and it hadn’t been bad.”

Ah. Roy remembers now. He’d already been absolutely fed-up with Jamie’s attitude, the arrogance and selfishness and incessant need to put others down, and the striker’s total lack of shame and casual smugness about the marks had rubbed Roy entirely the wrong way. Not because people should be ashamed for liking that sort of stuff, of course (Roy wasn’t), but there was such a thing as common decency and unspoken rules about not parading around the dressing room like you were in a fucking porno or some shit and—

If Roy was honest about it, he’d mostly been pissed because it was Jamie, and everything Jaime did pissed him off back then (though, to be fair, most of what Jamie did back then was fucking shitty, so it’s not like Roy was wrong to be pissed. Most of the time).

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is soft, suddenly. Small, in a way that has alarm bells going off like air raid sirens in Roy’s head. “Yeah. Um.”

The realisation hits Roy a second before it does the rest of the team, and his ears are already filling with a terrible ringing as the room falls silent behind him. He can feel himself grow rigid with rage, and with cold, curdling shame.

“Shit, man,” Isaac says eventually.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.” It’s odd, the way Colin’s earnest, unhappy voice seems to be coming from so very far away.

“What?” Zorro, still not getting it, and then he does, and Roy, at a great distance, can hear his face crumpling. “Oh shit, Jamie, I didn’t mean—“

“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was a long time ago, yeah? It’s fine.” It’s a heroic attempt at sounding casual. Might have succeeded, too, back before they all knew Jamie as well as the do now.

Roy doesn’t stick around to hear the team offer their comfort and Jamie try to wave their concern away. He walks into the coaches’ office, and the only reason he doesn’t slam the door as hard as he can is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“You all right there, Coach?” Beard looks up at him from behind his book, brow creased in quiet assessment.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nate jumps down from the desk he’s been perched on. “Did someone die?”

And Roy wants to tell them to fuck off. Wants to punch the wall so hard it stops his mind from spinning. But he’s been talking with Dr. Fieldstone about that, hasn’t he, how his maladaptive coping strategies are tripping him up, and fucking over the people he cares about in the process.

So he takes a deep breath. And he doesn’t look at them when he starts talking. “Back before Ted came here Jamie came in with these bruises all over his chest and back one day, and he told us he’d had sex with a fucking dominatrix. And I believed him, okay? I just… I fucking believed him, even though it was weird fucking bruises for— That’s not the fucking point. But because I thought he was an arrogant fucking prick and I fucking hated his guts, I told him— “ He trails off, looking up at the ceiling. Uselessly, his cheeks are burning. Maybe his eyes are, too, if he’d let himself feel it. “I told him I’d be happy to pay to see someone give him a trashing. Give ‘em extra if they knocked a couple of his teeth out so he’d shut up for once.”

Beard doesn’t say anything, but he leans back in his chair with a look on his face that lets Roy know that, yeah, he’d fucked that one up good and proper.

“Oh,” Nate says. “So it was his dad who— That’s— But— I mean, that’s not good, obviously, that’s awful, but it’s… It wasn’t you who hurt him, Roy. And I mean, you and Jamie have said all sorts of thing to each other. Done all sorts of things.”

And that’s true, isn’t it. And mostly Roy is happy enough to write it off as tit-for-tat, old foolishness and bygones, Jamie a prick and Roy sometimes an idiot, and they’re both better now. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Nate and Beard how knowing that Jamie looked up to him ever since he was a kid, knowing that he never took that poster down, even after that, after everything, makes his casual cruelty and failure to protect Jamie all the harder to bear, even if he hadn’t known at the time that there was anything to protect Jamie from.

“Coach—“ Beard begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Roy can tell whoever it is to fuck off, Jamie sticks his head into the office. Must have made his escape from the rest of the team, then. “Sorry, Coach, are we getting started or what? The lads— “ He catches sight of Roy’s face and his eyes widen. “Jesus, Roy, what happened? Are you all right, man?”

Under other circumstances, Roy might have found it remarkable how quickly and effortlessly Jamie makes the switch from Roy’s respectful star player to Roy’s friend, his entire demeanour changing as he moves into the room. As it is, Roy doesn’t say anything, but he must have made some sort of noise or moved some sort of way, because Jamie’s face twists in alarm, and then he’s across the floor and gently but firmly pulling Roy into a hug. “There, it’s all right, man, I’ve got you, lad, it’s all right.”

Roy blames all the fucking therapy he’d been doing for the past eight months for not pushing Jamie away but instead allowing the other to hold him, and allowing himself to hesitantly wrap his arms around him in turn. Fuck Nate. Fuck Beard. Fuck the team. Fuck anyone who thinks they get to have opinions on that.

He’s got an inch on Jamie, but Jamie’s broader, solid and strong. Steady, as he puts a hand on the back of Roy’s neck, murmuring nonsense that Roy knows is supposed to be soothing, and which maybe is. Mostly, it’s reassuring to have Jamie there, whole and hale and safe.

“What’s going on? Is Phoebe all right? Did something happen to your sister? Keeley?” Jamie is starting to sound a little freaked out, and Roy realises that he can’t just stand there mutely forever and let the fears grow in Jamie’s mind, he needs to fucking say something, explain.

He’d rather never say another word.

Tough fucking luck, Kent. “Do you remember what I told you when you said you’d had sex with a dominatrix?”

The way Jamie stiffens tells him that, yeah, Jamie does. “Roy—“

Roy tightens his grip, not wanting Jamie to pull away. “Don’t fucking tell me it was fine, because you were a nightmare for the rest of that day, you were absolutely fucking horrible to everyone.” Worse than usual, lashing out—not that Roy had known it at the time, or had thought it anything more than Jamie being a fucking prick for no other reason than to be a prick.

For a few moments, Jamie doesn’t say anything. Then he lets out a long sigh, relaxing into the embrace and pressing his face against Roy’s neck. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, “it was all shit, mate. I mean, all of it was, it wasn’t just you— But, Roy, listen… “ And now Jamie does pull back, just enough so that he can look at Roy. His eyes are tired, but the set of his jaw determined. “You fucking hated me, right? Back then, I mean. You hated me, ‘cause I was a prick, and I hated you, ‘cause you were a bitter old cunt.”

There’s no fucking denying it, is there. Roy gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, but—“

“No, let me just— I’m not saying that makes it all right, yeah, I just— You hated me, okay. But, would you have said what you said if you’d known what really happened?”

Roy’s lips twist into snarl. “What? No! Of course I wouldn’t fucking have— “ He might have ached to put Jamie’s head through a wall several times a day, but he wouldn’t have stood by for Jamie’s piece of shit father—

“See?” The little twat has the audacity to look triumphant at that, as if he’d scored a particularly neat goal. ��That’s what I’m saying, yeah? Even when you hated my guts, you wouldn’t have said that, if you’d known what was going on. But you didn’t know, ‘cause I didn’t want you to, or anyone to, and I’m an amazing actor, yeah? So, like, it’s not fine, but it’s… Don’t beat yourself up over it, man. You didn’t know.”

It’s absolution, the kind Roy doesn’t think he deserves and the Jamie is far too quick to offer. But Jamie is also right: Roy hadn’t known. Wallowing in guilt won’t do anything to change the past, or help Jamie now.

“All right,” Roy says. “But that was still a shit thing to say and I wish hadn’t done it. You never deserved any of what that arsehole did to you, and if… fuck it, when I made you feel like I thought otherwise, that was my fucking bad, and I’m sorry.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.” And there’s a tremulousness to his faint smile that makes Roy think that for all his claims to the contrary, it had still been something Jamie needed to hear.

It does Roy’s fucking head in that Jamie’s been up to see his dad several times since he got word that James Tartt is in rehab. But they’ve argued about that already, bitterly, and Roy has very reluctantly admitted that it’s not his call. All he can do is offer Jamie whatever support he needs, whenever he wants it.

Clearing his throat, Roy gives Jaime an awkward pat on the shoulder before carefully extricating himself fully from the hug. “We’re still on for dinner with Keeley tonight?” He’ll make Jamie’s favourite dish, he decides. Throw in some dessert.

“Yeah, of course, yeah.”

“Good.” He jerks his head to the door. “Go on then, tell the lads to get on the pitch, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Coach.”

As the door shuts behind him, Roy turns on Beard and Nate who – wisely – don’t say anything.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about this,” he tells them sharply. “I don’t want you mentioning a fucking word of it ever again.” Because maybe he’s gotten to a point where having a fucking breakdown and hugging it out with Jamie in front of them isn’t the end of the world (even if it’s a near fucking thing), but if someone tries to make him discuss it, he’ll need to start head-butting people, and he’s been trying to stay off that since he became manager, because it just isn’t a good look, is it, and he’s trying to be better about that sort of thing.

Nate and Beard glance at each other. Roy doesn’t really care for the knowing look in their eyes, but they merely offer a nod and a yeah, yeah, of course, sure in reply, and that will have to do.

In this messed up world, a lot of things would have to fucking do.

“Right,” Roy says, already moving to follow Jamie. “I’ll see you on the fucking pitch.”

---

A/N: This was supposed to be the fourth of the stand alone ficlets I call The Locker Room Conversations, but it got quite a bit darker (and less team focused) than I usually do for those, so I’m not sure. I’ll sit on it for a bit, maybe fiddle a little, and see where I put it when it goes up on AO3 eventually.

If you like the idea of the team uncovering sad truths about Jamie’s past and are into heavier angst (and more of the team taking care of Jamie), I highly recommend checking out i should be the poster kid for this shit by anotherlongstoryshort / babytarttdoodoo

#well-intentioned ribbing lead to unhappy revelations #and references to earlier abuse #and roy having all the emotions about it #there’s also a very long hug because a girl’s gotta get her kicks somehow #james tartt sr is mentioned and his own warning #hurt/comfort #angst #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy & jamie #afc richmond #a team of himbos #who mean well even when they get it wrong #fic #my stuff

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

In a Week - send a character + au and I'll write a blurb for it (like vampire!Eddie, bodyguard!Sirius, etc.)

I'm not picky, can it be a jealous!fic with either poly!marauders or sirius or hell even peter parker????

Lol I’m not sure this really counts as an au but sure! I imagine Sirius Black and his Slytherin babe aren’t exclusive just yet, so I decided to use your request as an excuse to write him being a bit upset about that, thanks honey!

join the party

Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader ♡ 950 words

Sirius doesn’t know why he’d talked his friends into coming to this stupid party in the first place. James is bickering with half of the Slytherin quidditch team, Remus is just emanating annoyance, and Sirius is watching you over the rim of his cup as you endeavor to swab the back of some seventh-year’s throat with your tongue.

He’d come to see you, obviously, but you don’t even know he’s here, turned away from him where you’ve backed the Slytherin boy up against the wall. Sirius knows it’s a bad idea, but he doesn’t try to halt the natural course of his thoughts; he wonders if this bloke is biting your bottom lip the way you like, if he knows to kiss that place under your jaw that turns you to putty, if he appreciates how silky the hair he’s got his fingers tangled in is, how much work you put into making it that soft. Sirius knows too well what the fucker is feeling right now. How demanding you can be when you want something, fingernails digging into the soft skin of his shoulders, the way you tilt your chin to kiss up at him. He hopes this guy knows how good he’s got it, and he also hopes you’re not actually doing any of the things you do with Sirius.

The seventh-year grabs a handful of your ass, and that’s it.

Sirius stalks across the room, pretending to be headed for the punch table before stumbling and tossing his drink down the boy’s pants.

“Whoops,” he says, not bothering to add much inflection to his voice as the boy looks at him in outrage. “Sorry, mate.”

“Sirius.” Your eyebrows come together, lips swollen and eyes somewhat glazed. The sight makes Sirius’ blood thrum on instinct and memory, but he ignores it. “What’re you—”

“What the fuck, Black?” The Slytherin shoves him, and Sirius has to bite back a giggle—a giggle, how sadistic would that look—itching for a fight. “You and your friends are crashing Slytherin parties now just to pick fights?”

He thinks he sees a whoosh of red in his periphery, and wonders if it’s James or Remus that’ll be coming to his rescue, but then you’re stepping in front of him, so close that lovely hair is tickling his nose.

“Rhodes,” you say sharply, and Sirius doesn’t blame Rhodes for freezing. He would too, if you used that tone on him. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll handle this.”

Rhodes curls his lip at Sirius as he goes towards the dorms, but Sirius isn’t easily intimidated by people who run away. Then you whirl on him, and he sort of gets it.

“What the hell was that?” you ask, grabbing him by the sleeve and dragging him into a corner so you’re less of a spectacle. “What are you even doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by and see what all the hype was about.” Sirius leans back against the wall, crossing his arms and looking about the room. “Have to say, I’m not particularly impressed. The PDA at Gryffindor parties is at least usually tasteful.”

You scoff at him, cocking an eyebrow. “You wish we were having PDA at Gryffindor parties, Black.” Apparently Sirius doesn’t respond quickly enough, or more likely something in his expression betrays him, because in the next second your own face sobers. “We never said we were exclusive.”

“I know that,” he says automatically, though in truth he’d never thought of it. Your relationship had been mostly casual thus far, but what needs could you have that Sirius wasn’t meeting? What could you want from other guys? “I just didn’t expect to be assaulted with the sight of it on a Thursday night.”

You sigh as though Sirius is a difficult child you have to appease. “Well, when you come to my house’s party without letting me know in advance, I can’t exactly prepare to accommodate what you do or don’t want to see.”

It’s all Sirius can do to keep his insouciant facade intact when you talk like that, as if he’s only one in your lineup of men, and the most demanding one at that. “Oh?” he asks, flicking up a brow. “And would you not have been snogging what’s-his-name if I’d given you notice that I’d be here?”

You look at him evenly. “If I’d known you would be here, I wouldn’t have had to find someone else to snog.”

“Oh.” Oh. “Well, I’m here now.” Not his best line, admittedly, but Sirius feels like he has whiplash, going from fighting to flirting in half a second. You had been fighting, hadn’t you?

You actually smile at him, biting your bottom lip as if to contain it. “You are.”

“And apparently there’s some sort of Slytherin distasteful PDA tradition to keep up, isn’t there?”

You shrug. “Depends on who you ask, I suppose.”

“Well.” Sirius presses his hand to the small of your back, getting in your space. “I think we ought to take up the mantle, gorgeous.”

You cast your eyes about the room as if nervous who will see, and Sirius stops, pulling back a bit to give you a sober look.

“Unless you want to go somewhere else?” he asks, doing his best to let you know that it’s okay if that’s what you do want.

You gnaw on your lip for a second, then shake your head, your eyes hardening decisively. “No,” you say, placing a hand on either side of his face. “Best not mess with tradition, right?”

Sirius nods so ardently you have to hold him still to kiss him, feigning exasperation, but he can feel your smile as it lines up with his.

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readbyred · 4 months

Text

Someone thinks you're a couple

With Pjo/HoO faves (at least ones I know how to write)

You’d think Piper is chill with that stuff, but if she's crushing strong on you, she will not be normal about this. Stays silent after the person you're speaking to called her your girlfriend. Literally says nothing and just observes your reaction. Like, to see if you're uncomfortable with it, if you correct them at all, if you also get nervous. Outside, she's chill but believe me, she's going to be overthinking this before going to sleep

Jason is an interesting case. Well, at least he’d be amusing, I think. Because his first instinct is to pipe up and be like ‘no, actually-’. But then it also hits him that he doesn't want you to think he wouldn't want to be your partner. But also he’s not trying to make it seem like he’s pushing you into this uncomfortable situation? Please, save this man before he gets too wrapped up in whatever the hell he’s trying to say. Needless to say, the other person will be more confused than before

When it happens to Reyna, she wants to be logical about it. Just say the truth and move on with the conversation. Keyword - wants. Because she can get absolutely smitten and then the next thing you know she’s looking away and her face is heating up. Of course, she maintains most of her composure, but she’ll be a little bit awkward for the rest of the day. Damn that stranger for putting those ideas into her head

With Alabaster, it really depends on the timing. The dude is largely sleep-deprived and on the verge of being killed most of the time. So he really does not pay attention to things like this if he suspects you two might be in danger (more so than usual). If things are moderately okay and you two are relatively safe though?? Oh, you know it gets awkward. He can be really outspoken if he has to, but he can turn into a mess just as easily. He sort of pauses glances at you, and attempts to explain that you two are not together. At some point, you don't even know what he’s saying. He doesn't know either. You just know that he’s stressed. Poor guy doesn't even get one peaceful moment smh

I saved the worst for the last which would be Octavian. The bitch fucking scoffs. Yes, he might like you but this is not important right now, because this stranger is assuming things and making stuff up. And he’ll let them know this much. Rolls his eyes because some people really don't know how to mind their own business. And they didn't even get it right. He genuinely didn't know why would you even be upset with his reaction. He was in the right, after all

#i didn't feel like I could accurately do Annabeth sorry #piper mclean x reader #jason grace x reader #reyna ramirez arellano x reader #reyna x reader #octavian x reader #alabaster x reader #alabaster c. torrington x reader #alabaster torrington x reader #hoo x reader

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skylarsblue · 2 years

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Yo itz me again may I request the slashers with a yandere s/o that's like very loyal and very devoted to their slasher and then one day they are like chatting together and their s/o is like "I would do anything for you" and the slasher bf would be like "ok then stab this pencil in you eye " ofc they aren't serious they was just joking than their s /o was like " bet" straight up grabbing the pencil and almost stabbing in into their eye and then the slasher bf will stop them before it was too late

I've had this thought for a long time. Yandere Slashers are cool, but yandere reader? That's underrated. I know Danny is a DBD killer, but, he suits this concept so well that I had to add him. This took way too long and I apologize, writers block is a bitch.

(CONTENT WARNING: Unstable reader & attempted self-stabby. Some mild descriptions of what WOULD happen if Y/N wounded themselves)

Michael Myers (ANY)

He doesn’t believe you at first , he wholeheartedly doubts you’re as loyal as you say you are. Main reason being, humans have a natural want for self preservation. He is a threat to you. That’s just a fact, and he’s certain that when it comes down to it, you’ll choose your life over your loyalty to him.

So when you say “I’d do anything for you.”? He will question you, he won’t take it very seriously. Perhaps he’ll appreciate the sentiment but he’s not buying it. His doubt shows in his gaze. It’ll rise when you said you could prove it.

“Stab me.” You said clearly. And for the first time in awhile, the Shape was caught off guard. “Go on, stab me. I’ll stab myself if you want.” Michael nearly scoffs. But he humors you, certain you’d back down once you saw him encouraging it. Michael set his knife on the kitchen counter, waiting for your hesitance & anxious expression. He feels another wave of surprise when you waste no time to grab the knife. He goes rigid when you take hold of the handle and aim for your ribs, face showing nothing but determination and a strange calm. Before you can make the full motion, he catches your wrist, leaving the tip of the blade mere centimeters from your skin. Michael’s shock doesn’t show in his body, nor on his face behind his mask. But he’s astounded as you look up, doe eyed, head tilted. “Why’d you stop me?” You asked. Michael let out a breath from his nose and took the knife away. You blinked as he, awkwardly, patted your head. It was quick & unpracticed, despite the fact he’d done it before. He believed you now. Admittedly, now he was far more curious about just how far that loyalty went. For the sake of stress, however, he’d rather not find out.

Thomas Hewitt

While Thomas sometimes doubts your affections for him, it’s not the way Michael does. It’s because he’s insecure. He thinks you deserve better. But your admissions that you’re so dedicated to him, that you’d do anything for him? It makes his heart warm. He takes it seriously, but in a lighthearted way. A kind statement that you’d always be there for him.

The only people that may doubt just how dedicated you are would be his family. Charlie Hoyt in particularly. He will doubt every loving proclaim you make, assuming you just want to placate Thomas to keep your role in their house. A survival tactic. He’s taunting with it.

Hoyt chuckled at his end of the table then, looking at you sharply as you sat on the opposite end. “Aight then, why don’t’cha prove it?” He questions. You nodded. Luda Mae kept quiet but shook her head, Thomas frowned as he stood in the doorway of the dining room. Both he & Luda tensed slightly when Hoyt brought out a knife. He walked over and stopped a few few away, stabbing the blade into the table. “Take out ya eye, the left one.” Hoyt instructs, confident you’d back down. Thomas is tense but he doesn’t move. He’s come to trust your loyalty to him, but he’s certain in your natural instincts, you wouldn’t go that far. Luda sighs from her place at the table. “Cha-Hoyt, that’s really not necessary-“ The older woman is cut off as you reach for the knife’s handle. You are calm & composed as you flip it and aim the blade, taking only a second to properly align it with your left eye. Luda barely as time to gasp as the blade comes only a centimeter from your iris, but your hand is stopped by one you’d come to adore. You tilt your head back to look up at him. Thomas’s breathing is heavy as he feels adrenaline rush his veins, brown eyes wide in shock. He takes it away & places it on the table, before he narrows his gaze at Hoyt, frowning. Even Hoyt is shocked. Perhaps impressed. “I’ll be damned, maybe ya do mean it.”

Bubba Sawyer

Similar to Thomas, Bubba is more willing to believe you when you say you’d do anything for him. They’re overjoyed when you admit it. They assume the same thing as Thomas. You mean it in a sweet way, serious but not to the extent you truly mean.

Bubba may not take it as heavily as you mean it. It’s not that he doubts you, just that he takes it like anyone else would. They believe you only mean it like “I’ll always be here for you.” Now, of course, that meaning certainly fits, but it’s not quite to the level of dedication you’re actually promising.

“I mean it Bubba, I mean anything.” You clarified again. Bubba nodded and gave a sweet pig-like squeal. Nodding innocently. You smiled softly, but shook your head. “Bubba, dear, I don’t think you understand. I mean I’d cut my own hand off for you.” Bubba stopped moving for a moment. His eyes were wide, blinking in astonishment. He tilted his head. “I mean it! Here.” You took the meat cleaver off the wooden countertop. Placing your nondominant hand on the surface, eyeing where to bring the blade down. The blade didn’t come into contact with the muscle & bone of your wrist, but it came close. Bubba held your weapon wielding arm in their large hands, squealing & whining in distress. They shook their head frantically as they took the cleaver. Your words were cut off when Bubba hugged you into the plushness of his stomach & chest, patting your head & petting your hair. “Okay, okay, breathe Bubs. I’m fine. I just needed you to understand just how far I’d go for you.” You reassured, patting his back. They whined and nuzzled their face into the top of your head. You continued gently hushing him until he calmed down.

Bo Sinclair

Bo’s probably more suspicious of you towards the beginning of your stay in Ambrose. Understandably, of course. You waltzed into a town where two twins turned people into wax statues. It’s not a common thing to accept. He wasn’t very trusting to begin with, even if those circumstances weren’t present.

While he’s come to like you, he will still have a paranoia about you calling the police, or perhaps trying to hurt one of them. There’s a voice in his head that insists no one would love him that much. To ignore murder? He’s certain you’re just going with what he wants in order to stay alive. That thought often haunts him when he realizes how much he likes you. Bo’s not shy about telling you either.

Bo scoffed & shook his head. You’d been there about four months & he still didn’t believe you, no matter how many times you told him of your loyalty. You knew why. Bo was a guarded man, thanks to a shitty childhood, it was completely understandable that he’d doubt every person who he came across. It became clear that your words weren’t getting through. “I mean it, Bo. I told you! I don’t plan on leaving or ratting you out, I love it here! I’d do anything for you!” You insisted for the millionth time. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Fuckin’ prove it then.” He challenged. You stared at him. He watched your gaze narrow in determination, calm despite everything. He rose an eyebrow when you turned to the counter top. Reaching for a pair of kitchen sheers. Bo’s face turned to confusion when you grabbed it, holding it steady. “Pick a part.” You said. “What?” “Pick a part of me. Anything.” You clarified. Bo was beyond confused at this point. He shook his head as he thought of an answer, deciding to pick what he liked most about your face. “I dunno, your mouth?” “My lips or my tongue?” Bo huffed. “Fuckin’, tongue I guess? What does this have to do wit’ provin’ yourself?” His question became choked at the end when you grabbed the end of your tongue and opened the dirty blades. Adrenaline jolting his extremities as you went to place your tongue between the blades, only to have the hand holding the scissors to be pulled away. “The hell ya doin’?! Are you fuckin’ crazy?!” He insisted. Your other hand dropped as you stared at him calmly. “I told you. I’d do anything for you.” Bo’s was visibly taken aback. He let out a breath and took the scissors from your hand. “Do you believe me now?” Your question made him look over your face again, scanning the peace in your features. “Yeah...yeah I believe ya.” He muttered.

Vincent Sinclair

While Vincent’s not as hostile about his doubts in your loyalty as Bo, he still questions you. There’s a part of him more willing to believe you’ll stay, though there’s a bigger portion of their brain that insists you’re only trying to survive. They dread the day you’ll slip up and it will end up one of two ways. You’ll manage to successfully leave, tell everyone about what happens in Ambrose, and their brother & themselves will end up rotting in prison. Or perhaps die in a police shoot out. The second option is that they’ll catch you before you can, and Vincent will have to silence you in wax.

Still, when you proclaim you’d do anything for them, they love to hear it. Even if it’s hard to believe you. Vincent wishes he could just take the declaration & be happy with it, not doubt your every move. The more you do to prove it to him, the more guilty he feels for doubting you. Perhaps that’s why you felt it was best to shock them into believing you.

Vincent leaned slightly to allow you to push his hair out out his masked face. “I’d do anything for you.” You whispered, you’d said the same thing at least six times a week. You could see their eye gaze at you past the socket in their mask. There was softness to his gaze but it was mixed with uncertainty. You sighed. “You still don’t believe me.” He almost flinches at it, you know he can’t help it though. “What can I do to make you believe me?” Vincent shook his head. There wasn’t anything more you could do, you did so much for them, it wasn’t you at all. He knew full well it was himself. You huffed a breath, looking around the basement. You caught sight of a knife on the table next to you. You reached for it, making him jolt. They watched you in confusion, the tip of the blade pointed at them. “I’ll prove it to you.” You stated. Vincent’s confusion turned to surprise when you flipped the blade towards you, aiming for the eye. Their breath caught in their throat and their hands rushed forward. Your gaze unfocused from the shiny blade only a millimeter from your cornea, looking at Vincent again. His chest rose and fell with quickened breaths. You allowed them to take the knife and place it on the table again, pulling you to his chest. They let out a shaky exhale. They rarely spoke, but when they did, it was deep, raspy, & unpracticed. “I believe you.”

Lester Sinclair

Lester’s probably the most willing to believe you when you say you’d do anything for him. He might even delusion himself in thinking you mean it more seriously than you do. Jokes on him though, he doesn’t need to convince himself of anything! Because you do mean it that seriously.

Lester’s not going to ask you to confirm or prove it. He’ll be grateful that you’re around to begin with. However, he may occasionally ask what it is about him that makes you want to stay. These are days where his insecurities weigh a bit heavier on his shoulders than usual. Lester was often ignored/emotionally neglected by his parents when he didn’t measure up, and while he’s become a bit better at coping, he still sometimes wonders if it’s something wrong with him.

You frowned and turned around, drying your hands from the dishes you were doing. Bo & Vincent always used a massive amount of plates when they visited Lester. Who, currently, sat at the little table in the kitchen. Fiddling with the edge of his stained flannel. “What?” You asked. “Just like...why would ya choose me to stick with, that’s all. I mean, why me?” The man asked softly. Your chest clenched in sympathy. You set the dish towel down and turned to him fully, stepping over. “Lester, I’ve told you this before.” You replied. “No no, I know, I was just...wonderin’.” He shrugged, nervously tipping down his hat. You sighed. You turned and slid a knife from the knife block, freshly cleaned. Lester didn’t see it happen, he looked at the floor until you walked back towards him. “Do I need to prove how far I’d go for you?” You asked. Lester swallowed and shook his head, he looked up and jolted at the sight of the knife. “Well you don’t seem to believe me. I have no issue showing you.” You said as you set your hand on the table’s surface. “Hey now, what’re ya-” Lester cut himself off when you rose the blade. Nearly sending it through the back of your palm. That was, had he not stopped you. The chair slid loudly on the tile from the force of him getting up. “Whoa whoa! Don’t do that!” He insisted. You turned to look at him, setting the knife on the table as he looked over your face with wide eyes. He blinked in awe as your took his face in your hands. “Lester, when I said I’d do anything for you, I meant it. Now quit questioning yourself, okay?” You asked. The blue eyed man swallowed and nodded. “Alright, I believe ya. Just...please don’t go stabbin’ ya’self.” He said softly. You smiled and turned to peck his cheekbone. “Only cause you asked, sugar.”

Jason Voorhees

Jason values loyalty above a lot of things. Almost everything, really. He’s not likely to show you any doubt he may have, because once he trusts you enough not to kill you, he’ll feel guilty for when he doesn’t believe you. The more effort you make, the less & less he’ll wonder your sincerity.

Still, he’s been tricked before. There are times where he’ll recall these moments & wonder if you plan to do the same thing. That you’ll try to slip away from him when he’s distracted by trespassers. There’s a voice in the back of Jason’s head telling him that he’ll come back to an empty cabin, that it’s only a matter of time that he’ll need to do away with you. And he fears that day immensely.

Jason stood in front of you in the cabin. He’d rushed home after taking care of some intruders, only to have a bit of a panic when he couldn’t immediately find you. You’d been taking a bath, but rushed out when you heard his boot steps turn into running. Hearing frantic searching in the rooms. You barely had time to dry your hair, an inconvenient time to try and have a wash day. Jason settled down a bit when he saw you. But you knew immediately what he had been thinking, the thought making you sad. “Jason, honey, I told you this. I’m not going to just up and leave you.” He looked to the floor, a bit ashamed, but you could still sense his uncertainty. You looked around and caught sight of his machete, stabbed into the floorboards, covered in blood. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll prove to you that I’d do anything for you, okay?” You said as you went over to the blade, pulling it out of the floor. Jason tensed as he watched you wrap your hand around the handle. It looked so strange in your hands, so much smaller than his. He jolted visibly when you rested your hand on the small table in the room, trying to get a decent grip on the machete, a bit of an awkward angle. You set sights on the space where your fingers connected to your palm, spreading them out, gaging the position in which the blade would land. Wanting to make the cleanest sever possible. As you tensed your forearm, bringing the blade down, you expected to feel the searing pain and gush of blood from your digits. Instead, there was a dirtied glove stopping the weapon from falling. You looked up at him, seeing his one working eye wide and worried, blue irises staring down at you. He quickly took his machete back and set it down, pulling you tight to his chest. You looked up at him after settling your arms around his thick torso. “I mean it when I say it, baby. I’d do anything you want or need, okay? Stop worrying so much. I’m not going anywhere.” You said softly, smiling sweetly, as if you hadn’t just tried to cut off your fingers. Jason exhaled and nodded, petting your hair.

Danny Johnson

If any of these slashers would work well with a yandere-esc partner, it’s Danny. While Jed is the suburban sweetheart, bringing you flowers & offering you coffee dates, Danny is willing to paint the town red for his lover. Both acts are genuine. They both express how he really feels for you, but one is more open, more honest to his true nature. If you know about his...”hobby”, then they’ll be more inclined to believe you. You’ve reached that point of trust with him. Now, if you say this around Jed, before you know about Ghostface? He’ll doubt you more.

That being said, they has every reason to doubt you. Not only does he have some major abandonment issues. You can thank their mother for that. On top of that, he has issues being vulnerable. That, you can thank his peers and father for. And lastly, he’s a murderer, one motivated only by his sick desire to hurt others. While he doesn’t have any desire to harm you (in a non-sexy way), they know that their temper can be frightening. And when at it’s worst, he knows it can seem directed at you. Deep down, Danny is certain you’ll leave him eventually, because he doesn’t deserve you. As narcissistic as they can be, they think you’re too good for him.

You frowned as you looked at Jed’s cheekbone, seeing a darkening bruise that laid there, splotchy broken blood capillaries adding to the few imperfections to his face. He spoke to you with his charming grin anyway, straight white teeth exposed as he chuckled while telling a story. He flinched slightly when you reached your hand out, tracing the mark gently. Jed blinked before he gave a little smile, standing up fully, rather than leaning against your kitchen counter top. He slid the coffee mug away from him. “Who hit you?” You asked, voice soft. He noted a strange glint in your gaze. “No one, just got smacked with a door.” He said. You shook your head, frowning. “Someone hit you, who?” “Why does it matter, doll?” Jed replied lightheartedly. You shifted your gaze to make eye contact. “You do remember the time I said I’d do anything for you, don’t you?” The brunet man tilted his head slightly, he nodded though. “Yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do with this.” He said. “You don’t think I’m being serious?” You asked. Jed chuckled again, rolling his shoulders. “You make it sound like you’re gonna find this person and kill them.” He fought the urge to laugh at his own little joke. Your face remained calm and determined. You lowered your hand and stepped away from him, reaching for something in the sink. Jed’s shoulders tensed when he saw the glint of a blade, watching you turn, peaceful and concise as you looked at him. “Clearly, you don’t believe me. So I’ll show you.” His brows furrowed as you flipped the handle of the blade, only to feel a shock of surprise when you aligned the tip of the knife to your cornea. It happened so fast he barely had time to reach over the island to grab your wrist, the edge of the knife only millimeters from blinding yourself. You looked up at him. Jed looked between you and the knife, before he let out a breathy chuckle, smile twitching onto his face. “Jeez doll. Alright, I believe you...no need to go stabbing yourself.” He said softly. You let yourself set the knife down. Unbeknownst to you, Jed concocted a plan in his mind, wondering if he could really let you in on his hobby. You seemed dedicated enough. He smiled at the thought.

Billy Lenz

Billy’s gonna love hearing it, that’s for sure. It’ll get excited when you say it, it’ll probably send a lotta blood below the belt. Billy loves hearing your dedication to him, though it doesn’t think too much of it.

Whenever you say that you’d do anything for him, he’ll take it at face value, even if it makes him rather giddy. Having you show it will make him feel rather clingy, he’s not sure what he did to deserve having you be so sure of your adoration for it. But Billy certainly isn’t complaining.

Billy hugged your waist tightly, burrowing his face into your chest. He’d been peppering you with questions after your proclamation that you’d do anything for it. A large grin across its face. “Yes, Billy, I’d give up my money for you.” You said fondly, petting his hair. Billy squirmed before looking up at you. “Would...would you, would you st-tab yourself for me?” He questioned. You tilted your head, knowing the question wasn’t really that serious, still, you smiled. “Why of course I would. Where would you want me too?” You asked, recalling the switch blade that always rested in your pillow case. Ironically to protect yourself from intruders like Billy itself. The brunet man hummed, giggling a bit, he hadn’t been completely lucid the past two days but you didn’t seem to mind much. “Your uh...your hand!” It slurred. You shifted and reached behind you, feeling around in the pillowcase of the pillow you rested on. Billy tensed a bit when you revealed the handle, pressing the switch to send the shiny & sharpened blade up. Green-hazel eyes watching the knife with cat-like curiosity, pupils wide. “Alright then. Hand it is.” You took your other hand off his shoulder and held it up, open palm, taking the other and gripping the knife. Before the blade could enter the center of your hand, Billy’s hand blocked your wrist. It looked at you owlishly, blinking in awe. You rose an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to?” It shook its head slowly. You put the knife on your bedside table, letting your hands fall back into Billy’s hair as he leaned against you again, looking up at you. “Believe me now?” You asked lightheartedly. Billy nodded, relaxing again when you began petting his hair. “Cutie...” You cooed softly.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms expects this of you, but for some reason, he doubts you constantly. Believing you’ll eventually try to leave him, and to be fair, everyone else before you did. Brahms isn’t exactly used to people meaning what they say when it comes to loyalty.

Most of the time, he’s grateful that you say it. It brings him some peace, makes him feel more content that you mean what you say, that you’ll stay with him. However, there are some days and some events that tend to make Brahms inconsolable. These tend to be things like phone calls from old friends/family or when the grocery boy shows up. (We’ll use Malcom for an example). It’s times like these where Brahms becomes certain that you’ll leave him for whatever reason. Maybe because you miss your old life or because Malcom managed to charm his way into your heart. Even when you reassure him, he doubts you.

Brahms kept his arms crossed and his gaze at the floor as you both stood in the kitchen. “Brahms, I mean it, I promise Malcom is not going to steal me from you! He has to deliver the groceries and I have to be here to accept them. Even if he flirts with me, I swear to you, I don’t flirt back.” You said. You’d been trying to reassure him for the past twenty minutes, nothing seemed to be working. You sighed and approached him. He flinched away from your attempt to rest your hands on his cardigan-covered arms. “Brahmsy, I mean it. I’d do anything for you.” You whispered to him sweetly. Brahms turned his head to look at you, green eyes sharp as they looked past the sockets of his mask. “Prove it.” His voice wasn’t childlike this time, deep and demanding. You sighed again. “Alright, I will.” You said with a single nod, turning to walk away from him. He stared into your back as you grabbed a knife from the knife block. His face twitched in confusion for a moment as you turned to have him. His pupils shrank as you aimed it at your face. Brahms’ arms uncrossed and his hands twitched as you ensured it was lined up properly. He had to dive a few feet, moving quickly. He pulled your arm down, keeping the blade from coming anywhere near your face. You looked at him and heard him breathing shakily behind his mask, adrenaline lowering just as quickly as it had risen. You took a breath and set the knife on the kitchen table, turning to hold his face in your hands. “When I said I’d do anything for you, I mean it, Brahms. And I need you to stop doubting me on that. Okay, baby?” You asked. Brahms swallowed and slowly nodded, brown curls falling over his forehead. You gave a smile and pecked the porcelain cheek. “Good boy. Now, your lessons are supposed to be happening, so let’s get you to the piano.”

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swordcreature · 5 months

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Zevlor, Dammon, and Rolan with a partner that's touch starved? Also your writing is exquisite - I turned on post notifications for you as soon as I binged all your headcanons!

ty ty anon that makes me so excited to hear!! i really hope you like this!! sorry it took a couple days

i'm trying to find a pace to go through these that is good for me, especially during the work week

thanks again for the request

Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Touch Starved Partner

a reverence to nudity and the barest hint of inferred sexual content (like you have to really really really squint)

How the tiefling boys date a touch starved partner

Dammon:

Dammon is, by nature, a touchy guy even in a nonromantic sense. He just seems like the kind of person to always offer a handshake, to clap someone on the shoulder, to nudge them with an elbow.

In a relationship though? Dammon is all about physical contact, whether or not his partner is touch starved. It’s just instinctively how he shows he cares.

So, when he learns that his partner is touch starved? Always leaning into his hand a little too long? Looking for ways to keep his hands on them? The touching basically never stops.

At first, he makes a conscious effort to touch them more. He’ll cradle their jaw in his hand when they’re talking privately, watching them speak more confidently with his skin against them.

He’ll put a hand on their lower back whenever he possibly can, to let them know he’s there and that they’re cared for.

He’ll take their hand and never let it go just because he loves the way they seem to instantly relax the second he grabs it. It’s more than he would normally do, despite already being a touchy person but that’s fine – he loves his partner and wants to make them happy.

But after a while the constant touches become second nature. He does it without thinking. He reminds himself to stop resting his hand on their thigh because they’re out in public and someone’s going to get the wrong idea after a while.

Or he makes a conscious effort to release their hand because it’s starting to cause trouble when people in the tavern must walk around their intertwined hands.

And don’t even get me started about the tail. It basically acts on its own. Wrapping around his partner’s leg, almost causing them to trip. Sliding up and down their back in a comforting motion. He needs to weigh the damn thing down if he wants a single night without getting it tangled in his partner’s limbs.

The way his partner melts into his touch was enough for him to become hooked, and to people outside of their relationship, it almost looks like Dammon is the touch starved one.

Rolan:

Rolan isn’t quite sure how to handle his partner wanting physical touch and affection, because he himself is rather touch starved – though the thought alone would make him scoff!

He’s a prolific wizard, thank you! Not some bumbling, bashful boy who blushes at a simple touch.

Before he meets his partner, he definitely sees being touch starved as a weakness. He’s way too proud and way too emotionally wall-off to admit that he desperately craves contact.

But when he starts a relationship with a touch starved partner, things start to change.

Because it is rather nice, the way their whole mood seems to change from something as simple as his hand on their arm. And he does quite like how often they seem to stand at his side, flush against him, looking for any kind of contact.

So he starts relenting. Letting himself indulge in touches here and there, ones that he wouldn’t have dreamed of doing in public before. Rubbing their knuckles, brushing a hair out of their face, kissing their forehead.

Once really comfortable with his partner, Rolan finds that his favorite thing in the world is when they can lay naked together in bed with his partner on his chest. Not in a sexual way (though it does happen a lot after sex). No, they both just luxuriate in the feeling of so much skin-on-skin contact.

They’ll be in bed for hours that way, just talking or reading, enjoying each other’s company, running their hands over each other just to enjoy the feeling of skin underneath.

And when Cal and Lia inevitably tease him for being so touchy with his partner, it’s the one subject that doesn’t get him riled up anymore. He doesn’t even fight back. Because he’s not embarrassed of wanting to touch and be touched. So he just smiles and rolls his eyes, pulling his partner more firmly into his side.

Zevlor:

Zevlor is also touch starved. Big time. The man hasn’t had a healthy relationship in so, so very long and it shows in the little ways he is eager for any type of physical contact, romantic or otherwise.

He almost doesn’t even realize that his new partner is starved for physical affection as well, because he is so caught up in how good it feels to be touched again. He loses himself in the way they reach for his face and lightly trace the ridges on his cheeks or the way they hold onto his hug for much longer than normal.

His partner has to a lot of the touching at first because Zevlor is too fearful of overstepping a boundary. He knows just how intoxicating their touch is to him, so he doesn’t want to go too crazy seeking it out every second.

Of course, this is exactly what his partner wants!

I could see Zevlor finally putting two and two together in a really silly way, too. Like, it totally goes right over his head until one night he gets a little more tipsy than normal – one too many glasses of wine.

And he’s a little looser than normal when he and his partner are alone. So, in his slightly drunken state, he starts touching them. Caressing their face, kissing their palm, sliding his hand down the length of their neck past their shoulder.

The whole time he’s doing it, it’s for him. He’s just marveling at how this beautiful person is his, how extraordinarily lucky he is.

But then he notices something in their eyes or the look on their face as he’s touching them and something starts to click. So he tries it again and it’s very clearly eliciting a response.

And poor, confused Zevlor finally starts to see how his touch affects them. It’s a brick to the face, in hindsight. He totally should have noticed before.

But he makes it up to them. In public he is still respectfully reserved, only allowing the most chaste of touches, but behind closed doors?

Let’s just say Zevlor becomes a learned student of touching his partner.

#bg3 #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #dammon #rolan #zevlor #dammon x reader #rolan x reader #zevlor x reader #i didn't explicitly use 'you' in this but i think it still works as reader insert due to being pretty gn #my writing #requests/suggestions #anon

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idyllic-affections · 11 months

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So I JUST got this idea after reading your mist recent adoptive dad!Kaveh piece and now it WILL NOT leave my mind. You emphasized on how his child's emotions are his emotions and how he's much more empathetic when it comes to them. So naturally, as a connoisseur of all things angst, I keep thinking how Kaveh will handle it when his child has their first heartbreak! Being so emotional himself will he be able to hold up or will he cry with them? and I wonder what the rest of them will do, there's just so many possibilities

how is [name]'s first heartbreak handled?

summary. how does [name]'s platonic co-parenting family respond to their first breakup?

trigger & content warnings. gaslighting, tough breakups, abusive behavior, lots of tears, & medical malpractice (briefly and pretty non-seriously).

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. hurt/comfort. tighnari & reader, alhtiaham & reader, adoptive dad!kaveh & reader, cyno & reader, collei & reader. 1k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this post is an expansion of what if kaveh adopted a child?

author's thoughts. THIS IS SO TASTY THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS.... ive never been in this situation before nor do i really understand what heartbreak feels like so i just kind of went with the flow. focused mostly on what [name]'s lil family would do and how they'd all react. anyway keep sending me your adoptive dad!kaveh thoughts guys i love this kind of interaction haha <3

tighnari is furious. alhaitham is level-headed and logical as usual, but not indifferent. kaveh cries with them. cyno is livid. collei is calm, comforting.

kaveh is very sensitive to his kid's mood; i have indeed emphasized this already. he knows when something is wrong. he senses the shift in their mood almost instantly. depending on where they are, he may or may not be the first to know.

do they return to gandharva ville after they break up with their first love (for the sake of angst, let's say it's because the ex-lover in question sought to abuse and take advantage of their selflessness, but [name] was not having it, and they were gaslit upon pointing it out and ended up being called needy)? if so, tighnari will know first.

archons forbid their ex ever show up at gandharva ville for any kind of treatment. tighnari will treat them, yes, but he will make it hell. he will make it worse before making it better. medical malpractice? no, that's not what it is, silly. he's not even a licensed doctor! how can he commit malpractice if he doesn't practice medicine in the first place?

...

tighnari can think all he wants about doing such a thing, but he really wouldn't. he couldn't do something like that. he'd have a guilty conscience forever if he did. however, that does not mean he won't give [name]'s ex attitude. oh archons, he has all the attitude in the world to spare for the asshole who hurt his nibling (a/n: that's the gn term for niece or nephew).

[name] is not needy. sensitive and clingy at times, perhaps, but needy? tighnari scoffs at the idea. they're self-sufficient, if anything. the simple truth is that [name] likes affection because they were spoiled with it when they were little. the fact that their first love gaslit them in such a disgusting way makes the forest watcher's blood boil.

"[name]..." he'd sigh, heart squeezing painfully in his chest as he held them against his chest, unable to do much of anything except listen to the way they sobbed. tighnari's tail instinctively curled around their waist. "it really is not your fault. some people are just... horrible like that. ultimately, you deserve better, so this is for the best. it may not feel that way right now, but one day, it will."

do they return to kaveh and alhaitham's shared home instead? is kaveh home? if not, then alhaitham will know first. it isn't improbable. kaveh is often away on work trips, so it isn't hard to imagine that the akademiya's scribe would know first.

alhaitham hates seeing kaveh cry. he wishes he would stop expending himself to a harmful extent for the sake of others.

he also hates seeing [name] cry. why should they spend time crying over a manipulative asshole who had no capacity to understand them as a person? they shouldn't, and yet... they are.

like tighnari, alhaitham sighs. he's stroking their hair away from their face with one hand, stopping every now and then to gently pat their tears dry, even though his efforts are fruitless; they end up crying more regardless of how many times he dries their face. their head is laid in his lap. it's the least the scribe can do until kaveh gets home.

"[name], they're not worth your time. you were raised to be kind and emotionally articulate. it isn't your fault that they tried to take advantage of that."

he sighs again.

"i'm proud that you refused to let them manipulate you."

alhaitham's blatant, clearly-worded praise is rare. it soothes their soul a little.

if kaveh is home, however...

they will be sobbing in his arms within the hour. he always knows when something is wrong, and when something is wrong? he's there to support and console them. that is what any good father would do. kaveh's heart shatters on their behalf when they manage to choke out between tears that their love had so callously tried to abuse the kindness they offered to all those around them.

kaveh undoubtedly cries with them, holding their figure tightly against his.

"honey, it—" he chokes, aggressively wiping his face with one hand while the other remains secured around their waist. "it's not you, okay? it's not your fault. people, they— they like to try and take advantage of things they don't have. kind people don't take advantage of kindness. good people don't take advantage of goodness. you did well. you handled it well."

cyno will always be the last to know, regardless of what order everyone else finds out in.

cyno is also the most furious.

it's probably in [name]'s ex's best interest to flee the country. the wrath of general mahamatra cyno is an utterly horrifying thing to be the target of. he won't physically hurt them, no (although he would have to put all of his self control into practice in order to not knock all of the kid's teeth out...), but he will make it very clear that he does not want them anywhere near his nibling ever again unless it's to apologize, and even then... he had better not see them lingering too long.

the next time he sees kaveh and his kid, cyno plants a firm hand on [name]'s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, saying, "they won't bother you again."

a slight chill runs up their spine at that. "...what did you do to them..?"

"don't worry about it."

anyway congrats to [name]'s manipulative ex! they have made enemies with four of the most influential people in sumeru <3

(and as a little bonus treat:

collei, now in her late teens, is some kind of mix between tighnari, alhaitham, and kaveh. she's not mad. she's just disappointed, really; she loves [name] like a little sibling and just doesn't understand why anyone would knowingly hurt them. she knows very well that such cruel people do exist—she was the victim of one such person, after all—but... it's so hard for her to fathom. collei is very gentle and understanding in this situation, letting them cry on her shoulder for as long as they need to. once their tears have dried, she takes them out on patrol with her.

she makes them fresh pita pockets over a fire and spends the afternoon laughing and joking around with them to help them feel better. she'll even tell one of cyno's awful jokes if it will make them smile. <3)

adoptive dad!kaveh taglist: @kaoyamamegami. send a non-anonymous ask to be added. please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#: [ adoptive dad kaveh! 🌸 ]#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #platonic kaveh x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #alhaitham x reader #collei x reader

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loner4-life · 30 days

Text

Troubled Minds

A/N: Sorry for dissappearing off the face of the earth(again). This has been rotting in my drafts for 2 years, so I decided to finish it ♡

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Why… you asked yourself this question constantly. Why did he like you? He didn't like anyone. He always yelled at and ignored anyone who tried to show him kindness. What made you so different?

You remember the first time you met Katsuki, people warned you how he could be, but you were a kind person. You had walked into class and walked past him, instincts led you to look at him, and he was looking back.

You smiled at him, he nodded at you in response. He didn't scoff and yell or tell you to "piss off". The two of you only grew closer from that point.

You'd give him shit for the way he acted and he'd listen to you sometimes(almost never). One day, he asked you out. You said yes of course.

You couldn't believe it, someone like him… wanted you. He made you feel special… you weren't familiar with that feeling. You were happy the first two months, then the chatter started.

Katsuki was a pretty boy, everyone knew that. Once he started to date you, others began to think they had a chance. You could hear the whispers. The "Why them?" Or "what does he see in them" made you feel like shit about yourself than you already did.

Katsuki had been helping with your insecurity, you had been better. But it got to the point now that you didn't even wanna be near him. You owed him an explanation, you know you did, but you couldn't do it, you didn't know how

◇

You walked into class and past katsuki,he locked eyes with you, you looked away and snaked past him. All of class you could feel his eyes on you. You couldn't bear to look at him. You didn't know why. You felt ashamed for some reason, like you embarrassed him.

If felts like days had past before you were let out of that room. The bell finally chimed and you rushed out of the classroom.

You just needed air, you needed to think. The warm air hit you as you walked outside. It was calming, you made you way to the dorms.

◇

You hurried to your room and slammed the door, not out of anger… it was all just too much.

You had always been like this in relationship. It was overwhelming for you. It was weird to you that someone enjoyed your company and had feelings for you in that way.

Anytime you feel this way in a previous relationship you ended the fling with the poor boy. You just couldn't handle it. Maybe that made you a bad person, you didn't know.

What you did know is that you couldn't just end things with katsuki out of the blue. One because as stubborn as he was he wouldn't accept it without a good reason. Two, you loved him too much.

You needed to talk to him. You needed his comfort. You didn't know how to ask. That was the one bad thing about the two of you. Neither of you knew how to ask for help if you needed it.

However, the universe was on your side today, it seems. Because you heard a knock at your door. "Yeah!" You called. "Can I come in?" You heard a gruff voice ask.

"Sure" you responded, you heard the click of your door before it swung open, followed by an unimpressed bakugou walking inside. I looked over to him with a weak smile.

“Hey” you said quietly, a grunt in response coming from him. “Why did you come?” You asked as you spun in your desk chair.

He was silent in response as he shoved his hands in his pockets before stepping closer to you, looking down at you like he did everyone, making you feel even worse.

“What's your problem?” He asked after a deafening silence. “I-” you started but he cut you off “and don't spout bullshit” he said locking eyes with you.

Your mouth fell shut as you looked to the ground. Finally you spoke, “I don't know…lately I've felt like..I've been holding you back..or I embarrass you…” you mumbled, not daring to take your eyes away from the ground.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked with his signature “tch” beginning his sentence. Your veins went icy at his words.

“I'm sorry…it's stupid I know I just-” but you were cut off again. “Why would I give a shit what some extras think about you or us?”

He said as he took his hands out of his pockets as he crouched down to meet your eyes that you couldn't tear away from the ground, but you finally did, and you were met with his.

His usually angry red eyes were soft now as he looked at you, which seemed more intimidating than when he was angry.

“Don't overthink about some bullshit your brain creates in your head.” He said as he poked your forehead with his finger to integrate his point.

“Everything's fine…you don't drag me down..you matter to me so don't let anyone make you think otherwise.”

He sighed as he looked away for a moment before looking back at you. Your eyes widened slightly at his words. “You really mean that?”

You asked with a soft smile. “Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it dumbass” he scoffed as he looked away, the faintest blush dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

You nodded with a smile, “I'm sorry for avoiding you..” you said quietly as you leaned closer to place your hand on his knee. He grunted in response, “thought I fucked up or something or you were finally sick of my shit”

He mumbled as he looked away again. Your hand flew to his jawline as you turned his face to you. “Hey wh-” his protests were silenced by your lips on his.

He was stiff for a moment before relaxing into your touch, his thumb grazed your cheek as his hand cradled your neck. After what seemed like several blissful hours he finally pulled away.

The two of you looked at each other for a moment before you broke the silence. “I'll never be sick of your shit…even if you're the most stubborn person I've ever met.” You said as you stood, bringing him up with you.

“I'll come to you sooner from now on” you said as you looked up to him. “Good..now where are these extras that were talking shit?” He asked, “Katsuki, don't worry about it,” you said.

“Tell me or I figure it out myself” he said, crossing his arms, with an exasperated sigh as you looked at him. “Promise not to commit a felony?” you teased. “Definitely can't promise that.”

#my hero academia #bakugou fic #bakugou fluff #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski

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sky-fire-forever · 6 months

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Responding to your line that you put in the water for izzyxreader asks —

Maybe reader is super tough all the time, and so they and Izzy bond over repressing feelings and everything, and then Izzy goes through his transformation and healing era and the reader feels abandoned because everyone on this crew is touchy-feely and now they’re all alone in putting mind over emotion

But then they find out some really bad news (maybe they lost a loved one or something) and fall apart at the seams, and Izzy is there to pick up the pieces

Idk

[AN: I try to leave it vague as to what the bad news actually is, so I'll leave it to your imagination! This is my first time writing X Reader fic, so I hope it's any good! Also, I am posting this on mobile, so I apologize for any formatting errors]

FALLING APART [IZZY HANDS X GENDER NEUTRAL READER]

Izzy Hands is the only one on the ship who understands you. Or so you thought.

These days, it doesn't seem like anyone understands you at all. Izzy included.

It used to be you and Izzy against the world. The two of you understood what it means to be pirates: It means bottling up the fear and the sadness and the… all of it. It means facing the world with a brave face despite how you might feel inside.

You both understood that. Once.

Izzy seems to have forgotten. He wears his emotions on his face now. He talks about them. He wears the title of Unicorn with pride. Things that Izzy wouldn't have been caught dead doing once upon a time.

It seems so easy for him now. He sits with the crew, smiles with them, congratulates them on a job well done. He belongs with them.

And all you can do is watch.

You're almost envious of his ability to change, to grow. It was less lonely being an outsider when Izzy was on the outside with you. Now, you just have to look in and watch as he builds this fantasy family. You wonder how much it will hurt him when it comes tumbling down.

"You could join us, you know," Izzy tells you one night as the crew huddles together by the light and you stand on your own. "No point in you drinking all alone."

You scoff and wave him off. "I don't do well with people." It's an old excuse, one you've used for years.

Just as he always has, Izzy sees through it. "You don't need to push them away. They're... not what we thought they were."

You narrow your eyes at him. "Just because you've gone soft doesn't mean we all will."

Izzy looks at you with something like sadness in his eyes. "The invitation's open."

But it wasn't an invitation you could accept.

Not until later, when a letter comes for you.

As you read it, your hands begin to shake. Your vision gets blurry as your eyes fill with tears. Before you know it, your entire body is trembling.

"Fuck," you whisper. "Fuck!" You shout it at the sea, crumpling the letter in your fist and hurling it at the ocean.

You can never catch a break, can you? The world loves punishing you no matter what you do. People like you don't get a happy ending.

That's something you've always known. You're a pirate and pirates' lives are full of bloodshed and misery and death. A happy ending has never been in the cards for you. Hell, you never even expected a happy middle.

You've never seen the point in crying over the shitty hand you've been dealt. Expressing emotions changes nothing, fixes nothing. So what's the point?

But in this moment, you can't hold it all in. You fall to your knees as tears hit your cheeks. You sob so hard you can hardly breathe. The world around you becomes a blur as you begin to cry.

Strong hands come to wrap around you. Your first instinct is to fight, to shove away whoever is offering you comfort. But you're just too tired and weak to bother.

"I've got ya. I've got you, love." Izzy's soothing voice washes over you as he pulls you into his lap. "I'm here."

Not long ago, the idea of Izzy Hands gently holding you as you fall apart would have been laughable. But here you sit, curled up against his chest as he rubs circles into your back.

You hiccup, trying desperately to regain some control over your breathing. "H-Hurts," you whimper through the tears. "Fuck, it hurts."

"I know," Izzy says softly. "I know, love. I know it hurts. Just let it all out, yeah?"

He presses a kiss to your temple and you squeeze your eyes shut. Sob after sob wrecks through you and you're powerless to stop it.

There's a reason you keep your emotions to yourself. Crying is painful and it's weakness and it fucking sucks. Why would you choose it if you could lock it all away instead?

But somehow crying in Izzy's arms doesn't feel quite as bad as you feared. It still fucking hurts, but he holds you through it, whispering gentle assurances all the while.

And when you've finally cried yourself out, a part of you feels… lighter. Like a great burden has been lifted from your shoulders and all it took was falling apart.

"Shit. I'm sorry," you mutter as you wipe your eyes on the back of your sleeve.

"Nothing to apologize for," Izzy says. "How are you feelin'?"

You hesitate before answering. "Better," you admit somewhat grumpily.

He smiles like he knows how much it pains you to admit that crying helped. "It's easier to fall apart when someone will help pick up the pieces." He reaches up to cup your cheek, brushing away a few stray tears with his thumb.

You swallow and if you had any tears left to shed, you're certain you'd start crying all over again.

Instead, you just wrap your arms around Izzy and hold him close, burying your face in his neck.

"Thank you," you whisper.

He holds you close like it's easy to do it. Like being there for you isn't the burden you know it must be. "Always, love."

And you believe him.

#izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death

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xiaomainlmao · 7 months

Text

Summary- Akashi Seijuro, the man with a split personality, meets a person who has no personality. Basically, Dissociative Identity Disorder vs Depersonalization-derealization disorder.

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Trauma.

No matter how big or small, it's the one main thing that can lead to personality disorders.

And no matter how dull your eyes looked when he forced you to look up, he knew that there was something behind your irises that resembled what he sees in his own reflection in the mirror.

Akashi Seijuro, the first year student council president, captain of the Rakuzan basketball team, the man feared by everyone in the school including his seniors. It was near impossible to surprise him, he seemed unfazed by everything.

And yet, his heterochromatic eyes were dilated. He stared into your own eyes, which showed no signs of any emotion whatsoever- no fear, no respect, not even surprise when he suddenly shoved your shoulder and forced you to look towards him.

He was tired of how you only responded to his words with a simple "mhm" as you did whatever reasonable job was asked of you. He was annoyed that you didn't show him the same level of respect as everyone else did in your class. And he was frustrated with how you just seemed to not care about his presence.

He needed answers.

And he did get answers, without you having to say anything.

"Tch," he walked away.

He had an urge to talk to you, be around you and find out exactly what lead you to be like this, just so he could feel like there's at least someone out there who would understand him. But he suppressed his urges.

He'd hear Oreshi's voice every once in a while, suggesting Bokushi to open up a bit, but as long as it was Bokushi in control, Akashi Seijurou would never let his pride fall.

"Maybe if I lose, if that ever happens." he'd scoff in reply, as he looked at himself when he washed his face before heading to bed. "If that ever happens..."

The Winter Cup was just around the corner. And as expected, Rakuzan made it to the finals without breaking a sweat. People from their school were there in the stadium, cheering them on throughout the matches, but Akashi noticed that there were also some who stopped showing up after a couple matches.

And he wouldn't have been bothered by it if you weren't one of them. All he wants was acknowledgement from someone like him, and yet here he is, facing off against his former teammates, knowing they wouldn't understand everything that runs through his mind.

Bokushi and Oreshi truly were like two sides of a coin, opposite but cannot live without each other. They were half of a whole of what made Akashi. But that also caused him to be confused about his own feelings. While both seeked attention, Oreshi wanted it to be out of understanding, while Bokushi wanted respect. Prideful was Bokushi but with a considerate Oreshi in the way, Akashi couldn't help but get swayed away often.

In the end, Rakuzan lost to Seirin in the Winter Cup. Bokushi accepted his loss as Oreshi was free to be in control again.

"What happened to your hair?"

Akashi found himself in front of you. He hadn't given it much thought, letting his instincts, his need, drive him this once.

He seemed to have changed a lot. But you on the other hand, seemed the same as ever as you sat there, alone, in the school courtyard, your lunch on your lap. That same, expressionless expression...

"Listen, I just want to talk."

"Oh, is this you letting go of your pride?" you took a bite of your food. "Wow, what happened?"

"Just thought of changing some things up. I hardly doubt that's abnormal."

You just hummed in response and continued staring into the distance. Akashi was feeling nervous. This is the one time he's willing to let go of his pride, so he better utilize it to the fullest. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Sure, this spots empty anyway."

"What about your friends?"

"They're probably eating together, somewhere. I don't know, and I don't really care. All I want is to look at that bird nest over there."

Akashi followed your finger to the bird nest, where two baby birds sat, cuddling up to a much bigger bird. Then he looked back at you and the way your eyes were glimmering at the sight.

Huh, maybe you do show some emotions. And, if he were being completely honest, then even his eyes were probably glimmering at the sight. It was pretty peaceful after all.

"Say, Akashi-san, do you have an interest in the concept of 'still life'? It may seem boring to some, but it can bring a lot of peace to some others."

"I haven't heard too much about it, but would love to know more. Please do continue, yn."

Most of Akashi's conversations included work. To be able to talk about something so casual was a bit foreign to him, but he certainly didn't mind it. He hadn't realized how easy it was for him to get along with you. Was it because he'd grown used to your unfazed nature towards him and and his position? Was it because he realized that being seen as just another person isn't so bad after all? That he doesn't always need to assert his superiority as he was told to by Bokushi and his father?

Healing is conditional. It takes time and the right people. And maybe, choosing to be here with you might be his first step.

He's not sure whether this is Oreshi's consideration or Bokushi's pride, but he doesn't even want think about it, because right now, he's sure of one thing.

He wants to help you both get through whatever together.

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#akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #knb fluff #knb x reader #kuroko no basket #akashi x reader #akashi seijuurou x reader #knb fanfic #the basketball which kuroko plays #akashi seijūrō #akashi seijuurou #kuroko's basketball #akashi #knb #kuroko no basuke #knb headcanons #kuroko no basquet

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