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kodzuvii · 3 years

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ON TRACK! ✩ [14: so, I guess we’re soulmates?]

next: [15: the rock wannabe]

pairing - iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre - crack + fluff :) soulmate au!

synopsis - In a world where soulmates can hear the songs their partner is singing or listening too at any time, Iwaizumi Hajime wants to know who his soulmate is so he can give them a piece of his mind and tell them to stop singing along to soft lofi songs while he’s in the middle of practice because it’s seriously ruining his cool, calm, and collected image.

wc: 4k

warnings!: grammar issues plz ignore + awkward phone call between two overthinking teenagers?

a/n: this is severely long overdue and I apologize deeply for that. the taglist for this series is open! more info will be found in the note after the story! ty :)

“Nee-chan’s weakness #16: overthinks more often than usual when under a lot of pressure”

Akaashi loved you. He really did. But if the higher-ups gave him an option to choose a new older sister, then maybe, just maybe, he would consider taking it. As he watched you frantically pace around his room with your dog (who looked quite scared) in your arms, he wondered if you viewed him more of a personal therapist rather than a little sibling.

His evening was going normal. After a long day of practice, all he intended to do was read a book after dinner and maybe watch a movie with Tofu afterwards just before bed. Nowhere in his plans were for you to barge into his room unannounced with an evident look of panic on your face while mumbling incoherent words.

Your hair was a mess and you were clad in an oversized sweater and superman pajama pants with Tofu in one of your arms while your phone was being held tightly in your other hand. All he could get from the words leaving your lips at a 1.75 playback speed was “soulmate” and “phone call” and “not ready.”

Akaashi watched you stop in your tracks and pull out his desk chair. You plopped yourself onto the seat, face warm and flushed as you tried to recall how you were feeling. “No Keiji I’m telling you that any second now, my soulmate is gonna call me and uhm? Quite frankly, my brain can’t process that and I am fucking scared.”

Akaashi hummed, “nee-chan calm down.” Tofu then jumped out of your arms and leaped onto Akaashi’s bed. He walked up and cuddled up near the setters side which made Akaashi smile before turning his attention back to you.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your legs and spun around on his chair, “no Kei this is serious. This first phone call is basically equivalent to a meet-cute which also means the first impressions. I feel like his first impression already isn’t good because I literally injured his friend so this is my moment to redeem myself” you rambled.

Akaashi made eye contact with Tofu and even the poor dog looked concerned at your state.

“Kei, what if this is all a mistake? I mean the universe must be against me somehow right? What if he hates me the moment I answer and then next thing you know he’s telling me that he wants us to reject each other and then I’m gonna be left all alone to roam around this miserable world and-mph!”

You flinched back as you felt a soft pillow collide with your face and stop your ramble. You looked down at the pillow on the floor and snapped your head up to your brother, “what was that for!” Akaashi rolled his eyes and petted Tofu with his right hand, “you overthink too much” he replied simply.

You narrowed your eyes at him but you couldn’t come up with any comeback in your head. He was right after all. You groaned and stood up from the spinny chair and walked over to his bed before belly-flopping down. You leaned over and grabbed the blue pillow near his headboard and Akaashi watched as you screamed into the plush material.

You were losing it.

“This sucks Keiji, I’m terrible at phone calls. I don’t even answer Otosan’s phone calls so how the fuck am I supposed to answer my soulmates?”

In Miyagi, Iwaizumi unknowingly found himself in a similar state as you. The moon was shining from his window and the light cascaded a soft glow into his room. With his windows wide open, he could feel the cool breeze blowing in and slightly brushing over his face. But the breeze didn’t help calm his nerves at all.

Iwa was a simple guy, really he was.

As someone who meditated regularly as well as found good coping mechanisms that would help calm his stress levels down, you would think that he’d be relaxed in this situation.

But no, Iwa was also internally panicking. Being the stubborn boy he was, he tried to play it off and cool himself down by fooling himself into believing that he was fine and that he had everything under control.

He didn’t

Iwa cracked his neck and looked back down at his phone. He was sitting on the sides of his bed, hand gripping tightly onto his phone as his eyes stared at your number displayed on the screen right under your name and his thumb barely hovering over the call button.

“Okay. I’m gonna do it,” he thought to himself for the nth time in the past 10 minutes.

He took a deep breath and gave himself an internal word of encouragement and made the move. ‘So close’ he thought. “This is it, I’m gonna do it” But just as his thumb barely, just barely, made contact with the screen, he pulled it back and harshly threw his phone at his pillow. He closed his eyes and groaned in frustration as he fell back, his back hitting his mattress.

This was starting to piss him off.

It was just a phone call.

Him simply contacting and talking verbally to someone through his phone.

He was fine.

Right?

Yeah no, he was totally fine. Pft He’s had phone calls before. In fact, he had done it several times with several people (that’s a lie he only picks up to his parents and maybe Oikawa on good days) Why was this so hard? Phone calls are a natural thing. Especially in the 21st century. He wasn’t some old man who had no idea how to talk on the phone.

He got this.

But wait, did you even want him to call you first? What if you wanted to call him first? Wait what if he asked you during the wrong time and you’re tired?

Iwaizumi then lifted his head slightly to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was 8 pm. It wasn’t that late right? You would’ve told him if you were busy right? Wait what if you’re an early bird who liked catching a full 12 hours of sleep. Or what if you were just too scared to tell him you weren’t in the mood to call. God, there were so many factors he should’ve thought about before asking you. He blinked and heaved a frustrated sigh as he looked up to his ceiling. This was a lot harder than he’d thought.

If there was one thing he learned from Oikawa’s fangirls is that girls are scary.

You were no exception to that idea.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath before pulling himself back up and leaned over to grab his phone. He turned it to the side and made sure once again that his ringer was on and that the volume was all the way up just in case you know, you wanted to call first and save him from all the stress he was feeling.

He stared at your contact information and gripped his phone tighter. Your contact didn’t even have a photo and your name was just ‘Akaashi Y/n’ on his phone. Everything that happened between you two from the past couple of weeks flooded his head and he couldn’t help but internally cringe. He silently cursed at Oikawa for bringing him into this situation because maybe, just maybe, he could’ve held off this first phone call and wait for a couple of years when his voice would be a lot deeper and he would be a lot cooler and he wouldn’t be sitting on his bed with a pathetic expression while listening to his phone ring and-

Wait,

Ring?

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened as he now realized that he must’ve subconsciously pressed the call button on his screen. This was it, there was no turning back now. His olive-green eyes stared blankly at his screen. He kept blinking and re-reading your name and just hoping silently that it would change from your name to Oikawa’s so he could yell out all his frustration at him.

A couple of seconds went by before the ringing stopped and he felt his breath hitch when his ears picked up the sound of your voice on the other line.

“Hello?”

Oh, shit this was really happening

It’s been 3 seconds, shut up Hajime.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Hey, Akaashi-chan right?”

“Mhm but please just call me Y/n! oh and uh hi Iwaizumi-kun”

Iwaizumi blinked, he doesn’t know why but he felt his cheeks heat up as he heard his name come out of your lips. Iwaizumi cleared his throat before bringing a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “Uh- how are you doing?” he asked. Oh my god, you probably picked up on how unconfident he sounded. This is horrible. He winced and brought his hand to his forearm, rubbing it in an attempt to ease down his nerves.

“I’m doing okay, did you uhm-- eat yet??”

Iwaizumi stiffened, taken back a bit at the question but you interrupted him before he could reply. “I-I’m guessing you got back from practice not too long ago right? Assuming you stayed back late and stuff,” you trailed off. Wincing at your own awkwardness. Iwaizumi pinched his forearm and chuckled nervously, “No-uhm you’re right I got back a couple of hours ago. And yeah, I ate already. Did you?” He asked back, You shook your head, “no not yet. Been busy reviewing and all that stuff” you answered truthfully as you glanced up at your stacks of opened notebooks and coloured highlighters messily spread around all over your desk.

Iwaizumi grunted, his nervousness momentarily washing away as concern came over him. “Y/n, you can’t neglect your health. Cut some fruit up or something” You froze for a second at how stern he sounded just now. Then you realized that this could just be his natural voice and you’re just reading into it too much. Oh god you were starting to overthink again. How did Bokuto and your brother get past their first conversation?

Your silent curses towards the world were cut short when you realized that too many seconds passed and Iwaizumi was still waiting for your reply. Like you do in any unsure situation, you stifled a laugh and nodded while scratching your knee awkwardly, “I will I will.”

A long line of silence then came through and there were no other words to describe it other than awkward. The faint buzzing of your phone sounded louder than ever. You could hear the wind blowing, the clock ticking, and the way your legs would shuffle against each other as you fidgeted. The silence between you two was long, tense, and uncomfortable. The kind of silence that made people want to die on the inside. You both started to question the situation you were in. You had the same goal, both wanting to learn more about your soulmate. Yet you’re lack of comfort and his lack of confidence made things more nerve wracking than it should be.

In an attempt to ease the tension, you tried to think of something you could say that would loosen both of you up. A quick little sentence that was casual and good for conversation starters. You thought for a second, trying to recall your favourite movie couples and what words they said to each other during their meet cute. You needed something smooth, simple, but something that could address the situation you were in. It then clicked in your mind, 5 words, 5 syllables (or did it count as 7?) whatever.

All your time spent watching incredibly dramatic romance movies has led up to this moment.

“So…” you started in a casual tone.

“I guess we’re soulmates huh?”

The moment those words left your mouth your mind short-circuited and you wanted the ground to swallow you up whole. It definitely sounded way cooler in your head. God what were you thinking? And why did you make it sound like it was a question. stupid. Barely 10 minutes in and you’ve already embarrassed yourself.

You fell back onto your bed (Akaashi kicked you out of his room) and covered your hand over your mouth and moved your phone away from your face and let out a tiny scream so that Iwa would not be able to hear. Maybe you weren’t as smooth as you thought. However, that didn’t matter anymore. The words had been said and now the embarrassment was eating you up and every single bad scenario you had previously imagined began to cloud your mind. This was it, you’re soulmate definitely thought you were a loser, bye-bye happiness and hello staying sad and single until you fall into your grave.

Your ears perked up when you heard him clear his throat. You sat up, moved your phone closer to your ear as you anticipated his reply.

“Yeah I guess”

Your body tensed up at how unsure and bored he sounded. And you thought this moment couldn’t become anymore embarrassing. You physically felt your soul leave your body the moment he spoke those words in such a bored tone. This is gonna be a moment that would forever haunt you in the years to come.

Phone calls were neither of you guys’ strong suits and that fact was clearly evident in the way neither of you knew what to say next. While you could handle carrying yourself in real-life conversations, the closeness of someone's voice against your ear and their lack of presence in front of you made things made things more stressful than it should be. Iwaizumi was naturally not much of a talker, he usually let his flamboyant best friend that was joint to his hip take control of conversations. It didn’t help that most people found him rather intimidating and unapproachable.

The silence stretched out for another minute and the longer before you decided to speak up once again. You agreed to call because you wanted to learn more about him, your soulmate, and there was no way you could learn anything about him by just listening to the faint sounds of his breath through your phone. You shook your head and gave yourself a mini pep talk in your head.

Come on Y/n, pussy up bitch.

“Iwaizumi-kun I’m gonna be honest-”

Iwaizumi's hands that were playing with the cotton material of his sweatpants froze. His voice got stuck in his throat and a part of him became worried. Curse his lack of conversational abilities. He was too lost in second guessing himself while structuring his sentences about what he wanted to say to realize that you were probably waiting for him to say something. Did he already mess things up with his soulmate?

“-I suck at phone calls. Like, I’m terrible at it and I’m honestly really nervous right now because this whole thing is a bit overwhelming but I want to get to know more about you because well, you seem pretty cool” you rambled and were met with silence on the other line. Iwaizumi suddenly felt himself get flustered the moment you said that he was cool.

You sighed and continued, trying to ease the way your heart was pounding against your chest. “Truthfully I don’t know what to say or what we should talk about, so we can start with the basics, yeah?” You cleared your throat and straightened yourself up as you took a deep breath.

“Hi Iwaizumi-kun, I’m Y/n”

It took a moment for his mind to process the words you said. Basics. Yeah, he was capable of doing that. After taking a deep breathe, one that was meant to give him some sort of encouragement, he replied. You felt chills go up your back as his gruff voice echoing through the speaker;

“Hey, I’m Iwaizumi”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

First real conversations were never easy. A part of you felt like you were back in your first year of junior high when your teacher was forcing you to play ice-breaker games in an attempt to get to know the people in your class. The questions were the usual “what’s your favourite food?”, “when's your birthday?”, etc etc.

However, instead of getting to know your classmates, the game would usually just result in everyone staring at one another as they waited for someone to speak up. An awkward tension cutting into the classroom as everyone simultaneously realizes that everyone was kinda lame and boring and that they don’t really wanna get to know the people who sat beside them.

You hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Iwaizumi. You’ve known you’d had a soulmate since middle school. Since then, you’ve always fantasized about your meet-cute. You’ve watched many romantic movies and read more than enough manga to fuel your brain with endless cute imaginations and ideas.

But alas, the reality of the world is that cute scenarios are simply meant to live in fictional stories. Akaashi had even told you that you needed to humble down your expectations to save yourself from disappointment in the future.

The first couple words exchanged in your conversation weren’t poetic words of love confessions and sweet nothings. They were typical, short common questions that people generally use to learn more about each other. The expected “when’s your birthday?” and “what do you do in your free time?”

You learned about how his birthday was during June, his favourite colour was dark green, he liked agedashi tofu, and how he spent his free time doing some sort of exercise or physical activity. Iwaizumi was also relatively quiet, truth be told you did most of the talking while he said quiet words to let you know that he was still listening. Along with being quiet, he was private. A direct contrast to you. You were an open book, your mouth moved faster than your mind and you had not much of a problem telling him about little details about yourself.

Iwaizumi on the other hand was selective on what he wanted to tell you. Iwaizumi was simple. A down to earth guy who had his own little sense of edginess to him. He was levelheaded and was someone who strived for realistic goals rather than unreasonable daydreams. You caught that when he simply answered that his goal right right now was to attend nationals with his best friend. When you asked if he had further goals, he simply said that everything else was too far into the future and was out of his reach. You could also tell that even though he used names such as “piece of trash” and “shittykawa” to describe his said best friend, he cared for him in his own way.

Iwaizumi always had a feeling that his soulmate would be the more talkative one out of the two of them. He wasn’t reserved per se, just wasn’t one to ramble over things when deemed unnecessary. You on the other hand could talk for hours. Just from listening to your speaking patterns and tone of voice, you were bright and confident. You found ways to stray away from the original topic and talk about something completely different. On top of learning about your birthday, favourite food, colour, and basically everything he told you, he also somehow learned about your allergy to raspberries, your admiration for early 2000s movies, how you had a dog who you also considered like another brother, and now he was listening to you retell a story about how you got into baking and cooking.

You were carefree once you became comfortable. Your voice was captivating, one that made people always pay attention to whatever you were saying. He listened intently as you went on about your story, he hummed here and there to indicate that he was listening and nodded along even though he knew you wouldn’t see.

A part of him felt relieved to hear you speak so freely. While you never directly came to him, he could tell from your Twitter rants that you were going through a lot of stress from school. Iwaizumi may have only met you formally recently, but he’s listened to your taste in music long enough to have an idea about how the songs you were playing indicated your moods. You had been playing such gloomy music during the past couple of weeks but he was still too nervous and felt like he was overstepping a line if he became too upfront and told you to tell him what’s wrong.

Yeah, you were soulmates, but you technically didn’t know him just like how he didn’t know you.

Nonetheless, a part of him felt relieved at hearing the genuine excitement in your voice because he knew that at this very moment, you were feeling okay.

“-and that’s how I baked a cake to persuade my brother into not telling our Mom that we sneaked out to the convenience store at 4 am,” you said cheerfully as you recalled the memory. You had switched from sitting at your bed to now sitting on your chair and leaning your upper body onto your desk. You moved your word out of the way and had your elbows propped up on the surface of your desk, your head leaning onto your phone in your hands. A part of you felt giddy when you heard the faintest chuckle come from the other end of the line.

The awkward tension between you two was fizzling out and you no longer felt as nervous as you did in the beginning. You were slowly and surely becoming a bit more comfortable with his presence. Truthfully, Iwaizumi still felt a bit awkward. Not that he minded you talking a lot, he just didn’t know what to say and was worried that you found him boring like how Oikawa said he was.

He really was trying. It just wasn’t in his character to be so open about himself.

“Y/n, you know how dangerous that could've been?”

“Shh, my brother was practically a giant back when we were in junior high so he was enough to scare any creeps away. Plus, I already knew then that the elbow is the strongest point in the body so I would’ve been able to fight any sort of dangerous threat!” you exclaimed. “That is not a good excuse,” he replied in an unamused tone.

You huffed, “At least I know something about self-defence” you attempted to reason. You only heard Iwaizumi reply with a simple ‘tched’ which made you laugh.

It was then that you looked onto the clock at the corner of your desk and realized how late it was and it was also then that you remembered that you still had some notes that you wanted to write up before you went to bed. Curse University prep. You were so lost in your conversation with the boy that time slipped past your mind along with your other responsibilities. Just when you two had started getting into a comfortable rhythm too. You sighed sadly which immediately caught Iwaizumi’s attention.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked. You shook your head and removed your phone from your ear and pressed the speaker button on your phone screen. You placed your phone on your desk and stood up to organize the notebooks you had pushed aside on your desk. “Nothing bad, just remembered I had a couple more notes I wanted to finish up before bed,” you said with a hint of sadness in your voice. You wanted to continue your conversation with him and you really weren’t in the mindset to review your nutrition notes right now.

Iwaizumi paused to take a moment to look up at his wall clock and realized that it was nearing midnight. Iwaizumi felt a twinge of guilt inside of him when he realized that he kept you up so late. This was even past his own scheduled bedtime.

“I didn’t mean to keep you up so late, my bad” he apologized. You stifled a laugh as a tired smile spread on your lips. “It’s not your fault. Something tells me that you’re the type of person who sleeps early so I should be apologizing for keeping you up” you replied.

You suddenly yawned and stretched your arms over your head, “I’m gonna finish up and call in for the night. You should get some rest Iwaizumi-”

“Go to bed” You flinched slightly at how serious his voice got.

“It’s late, you can finish up your notes tomorrow. Studying when you’re tired isn’t healthy. Get some sleep so you won’t feel extra tired and groggy tomorrow morning. If you’re gonna stay up, at least go and make yourself something to eat for tomorrow so you feel energized”

You smiled tiredly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you Iwaizumi-kun. Oh and thank you for tonight, I enjoyed talking to you and I hope we can do this again” you shyly suggested. You closed your eyes as you clutched the material of your sweater to your chest as you waited for his answer. Iwaizumi felt a sense of relief rush into him knowing that you enjoyed talking to him. A sense of his self doubt momentarily washing away. You didn’t hear a reply for a moment and it worried you that you might’ve said the wrong thing. But a couple of moments passed before you heard a faint “Me too”

You moved your hand to hover over the red call button on your screen,

“Goodnight Iwaizumi-kun, sleep well”

“You too, Y/n”

The ‘beep’ from your phone indicating the call had ended echoed through your room. You stared at your phone for a moment as it dawned on you that you just had your first real conversation with your soulmate. And yeah it wasn’t the large extravagant straight-out-of-movie scene you had always envisioned but that didn’t matter. What mattered now was that you had talked to your soulmate and you knew a little bit more about him and he knew a little bit more about you.

It was a start.

You yawned and stretched your arms up over your head once again and sighed in relief when you felt your back crack. Your arms dropped to your side and you frowned as your eyes looked down at your notebooks that you had now neatly stacked in your hands. You realized that you were far too tired to even open up your textbooks, let alone finish a couple pages of notes.

Thinking back to what Iwaizumi said, you could always tune in early for the night and finish everything up tomorrow in the library. Plus, waking up to something to energizing to eat didn’t sound so bad. It wasn’t going to take long and you figured you had a bit more energy left to cut up some fruit before surrendering yourself to sleep.

Content with your decision you turned around and made your way towards your door. However, just as you were about to step out you heard three buzzes from your phone come back to back. Curiously, you walked back towards your desk and leaned down to read the message:

“Hey, if you need someone to study with then let me know and we can facetime and I can keep you company. If you want to of course. No pressure if you’re not up for it”

“Oh and grapefruits are really good to have the morning by the way, they’re refreshing”

“rest well.”

a/n: hello! This chapter is very long overdue and I’m really sorry about that. I’m not gonna go into it but just know that this series is back and I hope to keep a steady flow of updates going :)

I struggled a lot with writing this chapter partly because I myself am terrible at phone calls but I hope this gives an insight to difference between Iwa and Yn!

I will be opening up taglist for any of my newer readers who would like to keep up with the updates of “on track!” Feel free to comment or send me a message : ) Regarding my current taglist, it’s been months and I’ve noticed a lot of people changed their @s so I tried to find everyone who changed their users. If I accidentally tagged you and you weren’t on my list let me know + inform me if i also missed you. If you no longer want to be added, then please let me know if you would like to be removed from the taglist. Thank you all so much for your patience and feel free to let me know about your thoughts down below :)

++ I just want to clarify iwaizumi’s initial care for Y/n’s well-being isn’t meant to be interpreted as “omg he’s falling for her already” and should be seen as just someone who cares about his soulmate and wants them to be healthy. He knows that YN is his soulmate and cares about her because of that. But it’s more of a platonic care at the moment. They’re soulmates, yes, but he’s not in love with her and Y/n is not in love with him (yet at least) ya gets?

yeah i’m just a fan of slow burn

I just wanted to say that just because I’m not confident in the way I wrote him 😅 thank you so much again for reading!

taglist! [OPEN; comment or send an ask to be added!]

@aircorumble @bunnyuuji-archive @cloudsvna @donteathecake @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @sunabrainrot @tadashi-simp @agaashesmilktea @sbaepsae @vicassa @akaashikeijisthighs @mariachiii @ayocee @starsinthepavement @cece-lives-here @elianetsantana @gxrleexis-arctic-monks @ssaihanuweol @sazunari @kenmacorps @simping-for-tendou @intoomuchfandoms @vxnna @froyopet @komouri @idek-at-thispoint @volexis @insomniish @amberisnotcrazy @maramalademadara @faewraithsworld @mjoork @mindofess @dreamstormings @h0ngh0ngh0ng @keekee-732 @daewengol @amessypan @applekenm @ptv-hades @killlerqween @bakusquadz @bbymilkbread @bbyhaji @sophie-duck @marissaraeblr @kellesvt

tags continue in comments w/ my main🤍

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu soulmate au #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi smau #iwaizumi hajime smau #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi fluff #on track!

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archived-kin · 4 years

Text

words upon the wind

note from kin: i don’t really know how to feel about this one, to be honest - it feels kind of half-baked and messy, but oh well, what can you do?

the basic premise is that, instead of dvalin, it’s you, a dear companion from long ago, that venti finds rampaging through mondstadt after waking up from a long, long sleep

i’m pretty sure adepti are exclusive to liyue, so i guess reader is just the mondstadt equivalent? basically you’re in that grey area between vision-holder and archon - you’re not powerful enough to have received a gnosis and ascend into godhood, but you’re powerful enough to have attained a level of immortality and be able to control the wind to a certain extent!

enjoy!! (or don’t enjoy, it is meant to be angst after all)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, venti

pairing(s): venti/reader

warning(s): memory loss, general manipulation of one’s actions, brief mention of death, sad venti

genre: oh it is angst time baby (i think so anyway, please let me know if this managed to get you In Your Feels or not)

Where am I?

Your eyes burn, the air whipping around you in harsh gales that tear at your clothes and dig into your skin like blades. Your hands move of their own accord in a pattern that you don’t recognise, and the wind seems to move with them, swirling around you in a vortex that obscures the world from view, until all you can see are blurred lights, blurred lines, blurred green.

Green. There is a boy dressed in green, far below, arms braced above his head, staring at you. His mouth opens and shuts, but you cannot hear anything - only the whistle of the wind.

Who is he? Who are you? Why does the air bend to your will? What is this strange land below you, spreading out in grassy fields to the south and a bustling city to the west?

The boy is shouting now, straining so hard that the force of his own yells almost knocks him over. Something lies abandoned in the grass by his feet - a lyre with broken strings. There is something familiar about the sight, something familiar about him - something that you can’t quite place. His face is twisted, as if in pain. Are you hurting him? You don’t want to hurt him.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Wait for me, promise?”

You don’t know this feeling - you don’t know this anger, this sorrow, this anguish that digs its claws deep into you and threatens to rip you apart. Tears sting at your eyes, but why? For who do you so desperately want to cry for?

The boy stands his ground, even as the wind around you swells in rippling masses and threatens to crush him under its sheer power. You want to shout, to scream, to tell him to run, run far away so that I can’t hurt you, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a guttural, inhuman howl of anger as the storm around you swells.

He fumbles with something on his back - a bow, a bow that trembles in his hands as he raises it and prepares to aim. How can he expect to fight the power of a thousand winds with an arrow? He’ll be killed before his arrow reaches its target, thrown back and forth by the very air around him until his limbs grow limp and his eyes lose their light. He knows this, he must know this - so why does he continue to refuse to relent?

He pulls back the string. You look back, expecting to be staring down the shaft of an arrow, but he isn’t aiming at your head. His face is scrunched in concentration, feet firmly anchored to the ground - and he is deliberately and determinedly pointing his arrow down at your hip. You don’t understand y our wind can easily snap any arrow of his in half, so why waste them on trying to slow you down? Why not go straight for the kill?

You don’t know why, but something tells you that he doesn’t want to kill you. He isn’t aiming an arrow in hopes of eradicating a target. You don’t how you know this, but somehow, against all odds, you’re willing to believe that this boy you do not know would never seek to harm you.

Perhaps that is why you do not intervene when he looses his arrow. Perhaps that is why you do not interrupt its path even as it sails forward, sharp and true. Perhaps that is why, even as the arrow strikes its target and the sound of something shattering rings in your ears, you do not lift even a finger to fight back.

You look down. Something purple and alien is crumbling from your hip, dissolving in the wind as it falls away. Quite suddenly, the wind calms, and you drop to the ground.

The boy stands in shocked silence for a moment, as if he can’t quite believe that his plan actually worked. Then he moves again, running to you, leaving both his bow and the broken lyre behind.

“Stay right there!” You warn as he reaches out a hand, jumping back into a defensive stance. “Don’t touch me!”

He pulls back, and an strange expression of hurt flashes briefly across his face. “But... it’s me. Surely I haven’t slept so long that you’ve forgotten me?”

You ignore the sharp tug in your chest at the sound of his voice, instead narrowing your eyes and glaring at him. The wind continues to swirl around the two of you, tossing the ends of his braided hair about in an almost playful way.

“I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about,” You growl in reply. “What are you doing here?”

He’s silent for a long while before he replies. “I’m here... to free you.”

“Free me?” You scoff. “What on earth would you be freeing me from? I control the very wind! How much freer can I be?”

His eyes are sad - so sad that you can barely stand to look at them. “You haven’t been free in a long time, [Name]. Please… all I want is to help you.”

The silence would be suffocating if not for the breeze rustling the leaves of the nearby trees. You refuse to meet the boy’s gaze. You speak again, but your voice is softer… weaker. “What is there to help?”

Against all best decisions, he chooses to move closer, reaching forward and grasping your right hand. For some reason that you can’t quite fathom, you let him.

“This destruction, this rage… none of this is you. You’re no Stormterror, you never have been. You... you were always just my Starseeker.”

“Who are you to tell me who I am?” You shoot back in reply. You want to pull your hand from his, to push him away and scorn him, but somehow you can’t quite bring yourself to. “I don’t know who this Starseeker you speak of is, but they aren’t me, and I most certainly am not yours.”

“Then who are you?” He asks, and you find yourself at a loss for an answer. “Who are you, if not Starseeker? Why are you attacking this land, if not because of the Abyss Order’s control?”

“I am controlled by no one,” You snap, but there is no real bite in your tone. You raise a hand to your temple, gritting your teeth.

“How many gaps are there in your memory?” He presses further, his voice increasing in intensity and desperation with every word. His grip around your hand is so tight that it almost bursts. “Do you remember how you got here? Do you remember why you’re doing this? Do you remember how your abilities came to be, how you were even created?”

“I…” You pull back, and he releases your hand, gazing at you imploringly as you turn away. “I don’t…”

“They must have manipulated your memories, stolen them even,” His voice breaks slightly, and he rubs furiously at his eyes with one sleeve as he continues, “Anything to keep you under their control, to rip away the person that you were to leave only a weapon for them to use… but please… you have to try to remember!”

“What is there to remember?!” You finally turn to look at him, and your eyes blaze so brightly that he freezes in place. “This is all I’ve known, and as far as I’m concerned, it is all that I want to know. I will let you live, but I don’t want to see your face again.”

“No—!” He reaches for your hand again, but you push him away with ease, and he lands roughly in the grass. “Please, wait!”

You only shake your head in response and turn to leave, the air around you beginning to stir in preparation to lift you. But then the boy cries out once more, and you pause for just long enough for him to leap to his feet and throw himself at you once more - and in one final, reckless movement, he rips the flower from his hat and presses it into your hands.

“The Cecilias, [Name],” he says desperately, closing your fingers around the flower’s delicate petals. “Don’t you remember the Cecilias?”

“The… Cecilias…” You stare at the innocent flower sitting in your palm for a long moment. Something suddenly tugs hard at your chest, and you inhale sharply, almost crushing the flower in your fist. The boy catches you as you stumble forward, and two of you sink to the ground in tandem.

“I brought you to Starsnatch Cliff,” He begins to speak so quickly that the words seem to blur together. It feels as if he wants to say so much more than what he can. “We went to Starsnatch Cliff together, and we sat and watched the sunset, and we talked all night, until the sun came up again. You remember the stars, don’t you?”

“Stars...?” You repeat. The boy gazes at you hopefully, nodding, and, before you realise it, you’re lifting a hand to cup his cheek.

He reaches up and softly places his own hand over yours. He’s trembling, but he smiles nevertheless - he smiles for you, even though you don’t know him, can’t know him. How many memories have you lost? And what is his place in them?

“You were still so young back then,” He murmurs, eyes distant as if reminiscing something that has long since passed. “You didn’t know what stars were. That night, when we sat together beneath the night sky, I sang you a song. Do you remember how it went?”

“Star…” Your words come of their own accord, unfocused and dreamy. “Fly me to the stars in the sky…”

Something deep inside you seems to stir at the way that his eyes soften. There is something so achingly familiar about their colour, somewhere between blue and green, like the ripples out on the open sea where there is no land to disturb its waves, like the vast emptiness of the sky that goes on for longer than you can remember and longer than you will live to see, like the quiet rustle of the trees in a peaceful evening breeze.

“It was our song,” He murmurs, and his eyes slowly fall shut. “I never sang it for anyone else, and I never will.”

You stiffen.

“Did you like it?” The boy asks, his eyes bright against the dark sky behind him as the final notes of his song fade into the night.

“I… think I did,” You reply, unsure. You press your hand to your chest, and your heart thumps loudly against it.

“Come on, no need to sound so unenthusiastic!” He sets down his lyre, leaning forward, so close to you that you can see every flyaway lock of hair scattered messily about his face. “I wrote this song just for you. It’s all yours.”

You ponder over his words for a while. “...but it’s your song.”

“No, no, I’m just the one who sang it,” He shakes his head. He pauses and thinks for a moment, then continues, “And wrote it. And composed it. And named it.”

He pauses again, his face scrunching up slightly. Finally, he decides, “You know what, we’ll share it! It’ll be our song. Ours only. I won’t sing it for anyone else, and I never will. How does that sound?”

Everything is coming back now, bursting the banks and submerging you in its endless flow. You remember nights spent beneath an inky sky filled with stars, you remember the ring of laughter around a forest clearing, you remember hours spent riding a breeze above a city of flickering lights. You remember the rush of excitement as you plummeted from the sky to a rippling lake below, only for a pair of hands to dip down and catch you before you could break the surface. You remember arms wrapped around your shoulders in an warm embrace, spinning the two of you through the air until sky and land became one, until you couldn’t tell where you ended and they began. And the boy in front of you—

You know the curve of his smile and the dip of his frown. You know the way that his hair falls around his face in messy waves. You know the way that he laughs, head thrown back as if expressing his mirth to the very heavens above. You know the quiet melody of his voice, soothing you to sleep when the sea is too deep and the storms too strong. You know this boy!

“Barbatos...?” You whisper.

His eyes fly open. For a single, frozen second, the two of you stare at each other, one in disbelieving wonder and one in quiet realisation.

Then, before you know it, you’re toppling backwards. The boy throws his arms around your neck and hugs you tight, burying his face into the nape of your neck as he sobs, and the only thing you can distinguish among his muffled whimpers is your name, repeated like a mantra or a spell, as if you might disappear at any moment and leave him all alone once more.

Venti holds you close and cries. He cries for the memories that you were forced to forget, for the destruction that you were forced to wreak, for the people that you were forced to forsake. He cries because the centuries that the two of you have lost can never truly be recovered, because even though you are here with him, you are still so lost and the years have been so long and he doesn’t know i how to go on from here. You slowly shift and return his embrace, and he can’t help but sink into your touch, like a stone disappearing under the surface of a river.

It will take time to heal. Wounds as old as yours and his do not stop hurting easily, after all. But, as Venti burrows closer to you still, selfishly revelling in the feeling of your arms around him, he listens to the quiet hum of the breeze around him, and he allows himself to be hopeful.

He won’t be afraid of the storms on the horizon anymore. After all, it was those very winds that brought you back to him.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader #angst #i wrote this all in one sitting in the tiny hours of the morning and honestly you can probably tell #unedited #i have a full length fic in the works that i should probably be doing some work on but no it's sad venti hours instead #feel like there should be more tags but i don't know what tags

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waywardsummoner46 · 3 years

Text

(Un)Pleasantville

A/N: Second one shot, yay! Definitely toying with expanding this as well as my Lucifer!Sam and Michael!Dean fic. I’m open to requests and let me know if you want to be added to my tag list (never had one before, oo this is exciting). As ever enjoy the fic and let me know what you think!

Word count ~ 1620

______________________________________________________________

Alright so, not to sugar coat anything but this was an absolute nightmare.

You, Sam and Castiel had gotten word of a hunt - well more Sam but that’s besides the point - and had left yesterday. You’d paused at a gas station outside of a place called Charming Acres but the dude at the counter said something was off about the place… so naturally (or supernaturally) you all went to check it out. And a dude’s head just completely blew up out of the blue after he came in for his phone?

Pulling into the town itself, now that was something. You felt as though you’d walked into a 1950s sitcom about some cheesy, lovesick marriage story. Something that you’d like to stay well away from. Consequently, you met a cheesy, lovesick couple called Justin and Cindy Smith who said they’d heard absolute zilch about any deaths and “this is a very close-knit community, nothing goes on here without everyone knowing” blah blah blah.

Anyway, the strangest thing for you wasn’t the clothes, nor was it the 1950s behaviour, no, it was the fact Justin didn’t seem to recognise what a phone was. You silently ogled at him but he paid no attention to you. So now you definitely thought something was off about this place.

After that fateful encounter, you all stumbled upon the local diner “Harrington’s” who was run by the Mayor Chip Harrington and his daughter Sunny. You thought Sunny was a very sweet young woman who honestly looked like someone you’d get along with, however you noticed her head perked up once conversation about Conrad (watermelon head guy) started. Castiel so delicately stated, “Oh no! His head exploded” rendering everyone in the diner speechless.

The Mayor stuttered for a moment then questioned “Excuse me?”

“Like a ripe melon in the sun.”

Whilst this confrontation was happening, Sunny gave you and Sam milkshakes, as Cas had refused earlier, so you were busy trying not to spit it out as you found that conversation hilarious. Chippy boy gave you the information where Conrad was last seen and then you all took off but not before Sam abruptly said “Alright, you know what? We’re leaving, bye.” And that was that.

When you’d all arrived at the boarding house, a too cheerful Ms. Dowling greeted you at the door, and creepily said she knew you were coming because it’s a small town and things travel fast. Honestly, what is it with these people? From there, and after a brief explanation on why you all were there, she showed you to Conrad’s room and said he moved in a few weeks ago.

Being your observant self, you came to the conclusion that the bed had been barely used but there were passionate and just plain disgusting letters under the mattress addressed from Sunny (so maybe she wasn’t so innocent, neither were you).

At the same time Sam suggested you all stay overnight and divulge and investigate more thoroughly in the morning and yet his almost desperate tone of voice put you on edge. Obviously, you were all tired and weary but Sam was just on a whole new level of “oh this is amazing, we should stay here because it’s so cool”. So reluctantly, you and Cas agreed but not before exchanging an uncertain glance with each other, the intuition of a teenager and an angel right?

Sam and you were sharing a room since Cas had insisted on his own, and instantly something changed with how he addressed you. “(Y/N), please take your shoes off, you’ll ruin this lovely carpet,” and “(Y/N), sweetheart, don’t you think wearing something a little more lady-like would be more appropriate, hm?”

All you could do what was sit and stare because not once had Sam ever been this pedantic or pathetic and he certainly had never called you “sweetheart”, so too baffled to engage in intelligent conversation, you went to bed just after Sam as you were too busy burning incredulous holes into the back if his hairy head. Struggling to grasp sleep, you softly whispered a “What the fuck?” and thank god Sam didn’t hear you because you would’ve absolutely hated the outcome.

The next morning you were woken up quite rudely by an angel banging on your door. Blearily you struggled out of bed and opened the door, rubbing your eyes. “What time is it?” You said.

“Time to get up, get dressed and Sam-Sam?”

Noting Castiel’s confusion, you turned quickly in what was once Sam’s direction only to find your lovable older brother had disappeared to Chuck knows where. Great, man hunt at ridiculous o’clock in the morning. Cas immediately raced down to the stairs to seemingly find Ms. Dowling leaving you rushing to change into something more appropriate that pyjamas.

Descending the stairs you notice the front door open and a frantic looking Castiel waiting in the Impala, waving for you to get in. Shouting a quick “thank you!” to Ms. Dowling, you sprant for the car and sat in Sam’s seat.

Castiel started the car and you asked “So? We know where he went?”

“I’ve been told he left this morning saying he was going on a walk to the diner and wanted a milkshake, but only after screaming at Ms. Dowling who had her eardrums blocked with ear plugs,” he said. You nodded, absorbing the information and pondered why Sam would just up and leave for a milkshake.

“Cas, you don’t think that there’s something wrong with the milkshake? Or like, this town in general? Because I do and Sam was being a real overbearing douchebag after you left yesterday and acting completely out of character.”

He didn’t hesitate to nod his head, “I must admit, the strange customs have piqued my interest and Sam did drink quite a lot of that milkshake yesterday so it might be a possibility that there is a supernatural force going on here.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but you’d turned a corner and arrived just before the diner. Castiel left the car and went to inspect whilst you decided a smart move would be to ring Sam’s phone… only to find it ringing in the back of the car. Typical frustrating Winchester.

Placing your hands on your head, you massaged your temples and tried to think of any reasonable explanation as to what on earth was going on.

You heard the driver’s door being opened and looked over to see Castiel already turning the keys in the ignition. “He’s gone to Mr and Mrs. Smith's house,” was the only explanation you received.

Suddenly determined, you nodded and said, “Alright, we’re getting somewhere, onward!” So, the car started and picked up speed, as you made your way to the Smith’s house you took a chance to observe the area a bit more.

It was definitely something outdated and old-fashioned but the people did look happy, even if the shops were called something despicable like “The Rainbow Restaurant". It was very bright and colourful and you didn’t doubt that even if a thunderstorm hit, these people would still be acting on top of the world.

Upon finally reaching your destination, you took notice of the white-picket fence and the massive garden. The house was huge and definitely unnecessary for only two people. Regardless, you and Cas sauntered up to the door and knocked three times respectively. On the third Cindy opened the door with a clear smile on her face and a very pleasant scent of lavender perfume. “Hello, can I help you?”

You and Cas glanced at each other before he answered, “First of all, I’d like to offer my condolences for your husband's death but we really need to know-”

He was cut off by a very confused Cindy Smith who said, “My husband? Honey, I think you might be mistaken. My darling husband is in the kitchen, fetching his newspaper. Justin, dear, come say hello!”

Again, Cas looked like he wanted to continue but a very familiar, moose-like voice interrupted “Coming darling! Won’t take two slices of a carrot cake!” It was, unmistakably, Sam. You gaped and stared questioningly at Cas in silent question. He merely returned your look.

Moments later, Sam appeared in the doorway. Wearing a pair of glasses. A ponytail. And a fucking cardigan. A cardigan, because why the hell not? He wrapped his hands around Cindy’s waist and looked at us in confusion. Or sorry, at Cas in confusion, but when his gaze landed on you his face went more stern.

“Young lady, do you not remember what I said about un lady-like clothing? Because those denim jeans and that ridiculous jumper are hardly suitable for my daughter, little miss. I suggest you get in this house right now and put on that lovely dress your mother bought you,” he basically seethed.

Now you were definitely the equivalent of a fish, with your wide mouth and wide eyes. You managed to compose yourself a bit before stuttering “Sam?”

His eye twitched and there was no warning before he grabbed your arm and pulled you in the house then promptly dragged you into the sitting area. He guided you to the sofa on the left of the fireplace and very softly explained, “My sweet honey, I know that this is hard for you, but your mother and I want what’s best for you. Now, be a good girl and wait here until your mother and I have finished our pleasant conversation with our new neighbour, hm?” Then he planted a kiss on your forehead and returned to Cindy’s side to continue conversing with Cas.

All you could think was: what the fuck?

#justin smith!sam #justin smith!sam x reader #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #Sam Winchester #castiel x reader #spn x reader

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honey-milk-depresso · 3 years

Text

The Wild and The Quiet (Floyd Leech x Kuudere Reader)

Part 1 : How You caught feelings in your fishing net.

“Koebi chan~~~!”

“...hi, Floyd..”

“Where are you going???”

“...back to Ramshackle..”

“Ehh??~ Can I come~?”

“...fine...”

It was quite funny to see the two of you interact. You and Floyd were complete polar opposites of each other, where Floyd is that wild, rambunctious and certainly loud student, you were the much calmer, shy (or seemingly emotionless-) and quiet student.

Well, you know what they say, opposites do attract.

How Floyd even got attached to you was a mystery even to yourself.

You had no idea how he even started clinging and conversing with you everyday at every hour. You didn’t try to bath in the limelight, well, accept you possessing no magic. But that certainly wouldn’t attract anybody, right? There’s nothing spectacular about that. In fact, that would have sounded lame and boring to anyone’s ears, so certainly Floyd wouldn’t be interested in something “boring”, right? Well....

Floyd at first, for the most part, scared you like any other student would be scared of Floyd. He was tall and intimidating, his attitude is very unexpected, at one point he’s smiling and another his face darkens and your met with his fist. You never know, and that’s what scared you sometimes.

But, you never showed that fear. Towards him. Towards anyone. Something in you had always made you tell yourself: “Don’t show them how vulnerable you are.”

Over time, you got used to the large, rambunctious mer-eel’s shenanigans. And over time, you secretly enjoyed his company. You just thought of it as him always treating his friends like this. Although, you would admit, you wanted your relationship with him to grow a little further.

Stepping into the Ramshackle dorm, you made way for Floyd to come in to which he sloppily went in before making himself comfortable on your couch.

You put down your bag and took out your notes and homework, before heading to the coffee table, where Floyd rested on the couch behind it to do your work. Floyd stared at you lazily as you scribbled away formulas and answers.

“...You don’t have work to do?”

“Eh~~ I can do it later.”

“...You should do it now.”

“Huh~~~? I don’t feel like it..”

You stopped writing and glance back at him, he closes his eyes as he wore a relaxed expression on his features. You hesitated a little, eyes averting away from him for a few seconds before turning away from him again.

“.......Want to do homework with me...?”

His eyes shot opened and widened. This was one of the rare moments where you offer him to do something with you. It’s usually him who forces offer you to do something with him, but it seems the tables have turned. He smiled a toothy grin before standing up and bending low where he rested his chin on your shoulders.

“Ehehehe~! Why didn’t you say so!”

Just went he placed his chin on your shoulders, you swore you shivered a little due to the skin sudden cold feeling of his skin. Of course, you showed no sign of being affected, and just shifted more to the left sub consciously.

Floyd came back with his own homework and writing materials, but rather than sitting opposite from you, he sat beside you on your right, which made both your elbows rub in contact of each other, making it even harder for you to focus on your work as your flustered emotions continued rising inside of you, harder to contain.

Floyd was simply oblivious and in his own bliss of being able to do something together with you and did his work.

A few moments of him being halfway distracted and started talking to you, to which you asked him to go back to his own paper continuously, you finished your second to last worksheet. All that’s left is the alchemy worksheet Professor Crewel has given you today, which was assigned tomorrow. Obviously do it now, who wants to be discipline by the strictest professor around.

You took it out of your file and.... it’s crumpled, almost life it was bleached, as the ink prints were faded and smudged. Words were written all over it: Loser, weirdo, bitch.. a bunch of nasty nicknames which you admitted kind of put you down.

You should’ve known. Those Savanaclaw delinquents and their constant bullying towards you. Jack had to always chase them away for you, but he doesn’t take the same Alchemy class as you did. Those Savanclaw students did on purpose so that you would be scolded by Professor Crewel for having a toilet paper of a worksheet. Great, now you have to ask Deuce or Ace. Grim certainly can’t help.

“Hmmmm~? Is koebi chan spacing out? I though you told me to focus, now it’s my turn~!”

He tried snatching the crumpled and vandalized worksheet out of your hand, but you immediately caught it before he could even view it to his face.

Truthfully, you didn’t want him to see it as you felt like you would look stupid in front of him. When it comes to being bullied, you rather hide it than tell anyone about it. That feeling of hiding it made you turn on your instincts and told you to take it back, hoping that Floyd would just let go.

Yeah, those chances of him letting go of something unknown to him were a chances of slim to nothing.

He held on and tried pulling it out of your grip, and he proved to be much stronger than you, easily getting the worksheet.

He faced away from you as you only crouched back, a little nervous of the outcome.

“....Who did this, y/n...?”

You gulped internally. You had never heard him in such a low, threatening tone. And it’s been quite a while since you heard him call you by your real name.

“Nothing.”

“Koebi. Tell me. Now.”

“I really don’t know.”

Floyd isn’t stupid, and you know. He knows when something’s up, and he would be very persistent in figuring out the situation. It’s his job together with Jade. So why bother denying to him?

“....”

“.....”

“Why do you care?”

Ouch. You didn’t mean to sound harsh towards him.

Without hesitation, he immediately replied.

“I care about you, obviously.”

======================================================

“What..”

You saw a familiar teal haired eel in his lab coat, sleeping soundly under the shade of a tree.

You were carrying blankets and pillowcases you collected from the Heartslabyul dorm. Trey and Riddle allowed you to used their clothes dryer to hang your blankets and stuff. Pretty neat.

You stared at the peaceful eel. He’s way more different than his wild usual self. You couldn’t help but think he looked cute. He really did. Then you took note of his lab coat. He had alchemy. And Floyd only sleeps at random places if he ever felt moody or sleepy. Maybe he had a rough day in Alchemy class?

Well I mean, who wouldn’t? Professor Crewel and his ridiculous amounts of homework with his seemingly impossible to meet deadlines.

You quietly knelt beside Floyd and gently draped the blanket around him. Seems like he really is deep in sleep. Sitting down beside him you looked up to the sky and took a deep breath.

Lazily, you felt your eyelids feeling heavy, unconsciously falling asleep on Floyd’s arm. You didn’t mean to, but you were so tired yourself.

Little did you two know, that Azul and Jade were trying to search for Floyd, and only find you and him sleeping.

And little did you know, that Floyd used his fingers to intertwined with yours.

===========================================================

“Oh..”

Cornered by the same Savanaclaw delinquents. Just great.

They’re probably here to extort your food and valuables again.

You know you said you hated looking vulnerable, but you also hated getting into trouble. So you just complied and gave them your bag.

They dumped out all your contents out of your bag, crushing and stepping on them.

In your head, you’re insulting them of how they are equivalent to an angry baby throwing a tantrum, but on the outside, you remain stoic.

Emotionless.

“Hey.”

All four of you immediately looked to the left upon hearing a dreaded voice. Floyd stood, casting a dark shadow as his eyes gleamed danger. The Savanaclaw students stopped their harassing and cower at the sight of the tall eel.

“You three were lucky I didn’t chase you down two weeks ago, after you ruined Koebi Chan’s homework. This time, I’m not holding back.”

You closed your eyes shut as you could only hear screaming from the Savanaclaw students, you went behind the door of your empty classroom until you heard only silence.

Three Savanaclaw students all passed out on the ground. Floyd gave them one last menacing look before he met your eyes with his dramatically softened ones.

He cling onto you.

“Ne~~~ Koebi Chan! You should’ve told them to stay away from you~”

“I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“Huh~~~~? But you need to toughen up a bit~”

“What are you going to do with them?”

He glanced back to the pile of students he had created.

“Ehehehehe~~~ I’m sure they’ll wake up!”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

His sudden change of his easy going attitude to a serious one slightly caught you off guard.

And then very quickly, he grinned a toothy grin.

“Koebi Chan shouldn’t let others tell you what to do!”

He took your hand in his.

“I will protect you! But make sure to protect yourself, too! Ehehehehe~~!”

Something in you told you that the warm feeling blooming in your chest, would only grow bigger.

============================================================

Want me to do part 2????

How to procrastinate 24/7

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd #twisted wonderland floyd #twst floyd x reader #kuudere reader #floyd leech x reader oneshot #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #twisted wonderland floyd x reader

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kithtaehyung · 4 years

Text

Room 3 | PJM

summary: it’s just another normal day for you at the wellness center until it suddenly isn’t. note: standalone for now! part 2 is semi-written but no solid plans atm. note 2 (june 7th, 2021): this will be revamped in the future! i really enjoyed this premise so i won’t get rid of it completely. pairing: idol!jimin x massage therapist!reader genre: fluff word count: 9,188

Thirteen.

The sidewalk underneath your feet has thirteen cracks in the little square you stand in. Sliding a small rock into one of them provides you with something to do until you hear the squeaking, screeching brakes of a bus struggling to a stop in front of you.

You adjust the strap on your shoulder as the doors open with a hydraulic hiss, and you give the driver a small smile before finding a place to stand. There aren’t many people commuting today, so it’s a pleasant surprise that you get to sit down for a change.

It was just another day in your life. You got up this morning and did your routine, listened to your wake up music on repeat, and checked that you had your wallet, phone, keys, and earphones before heading down to the bus stop. The very same earphones are still on as you now have your library on shuffle, and you hum along to the “na na na’s” of the current tune.

Living in Seoul for about a year now, you were pretty settled in. The people were accommodating, the quality of life was much better than where you were before, and you felt like you could live here for the rest of your days. It was insanely tough at first, but the initial culture shock and feeling of loneliness lessened as you made friends and befriended coworkers. You don’t have many people close to you here, but you can count on the ones that are.

You turn your head to gaze out the windows. Shimmering glass buildings tower over you, shops and street signs whiz by, and people look like they’re walking in slow motion as you follow them with your eyes. Blips of pastels and bold colors mingle together and you look down to observe your own monochrome uniform. For the place you worked at, you didn’t expect the clothes to look luxurious, but they’re actually designed very well. And they’re soft.

That’s enough for you.

Your stop is next, so you hook your arm around the nearest pole to prep. The steel has a coldness that seeps into your sleeve, but your only thought is wondering what you should eat for lunch.

Why do you feel so tense?

The sign right above you emits a sense of relaxation, but there’s a tightness in your shoulders. Odd. You lock your phone with one hand and grip the strap of your pack with the other before taking a deep breath. You count down from three before letting it out.

The hiss of your exhale mingles with the standard sounds of the city, and you concentrate on the flow of life both inside your body and the environment around you. You did this often when you felt out of place, and it served to recalibrate you and your thoughts. Storing your phone away, you make your way inside the frosted glass doors.

Working at one of Seoul’s prestigious wellness centers was definitely something you were proud of. If there was one thing you’ve wanted for years, it was for a way for you to massage yourself. Everyone seemed to love your massages, but no one knew how to massage you. That is, until you came here. You’ve never experienced people knowing exactly where you were hurting and effectively working out all of those kinks during one session. It was magical.

What is even more magical is the fact that you joined the ranks of those same angels from above. You love them, and they love you.

“Good morning! I hate you!”

Well.

“Morning, Yoon,” you respond lowly as you take your earphones out and store them. “Love you, too.” As you walk around front reception, Yoon smiles at you and comments,

“No, really, I think you legitimately repulse me now.”

You shoot her a look of pure terror. “What the hell did I do?”

“Nothing,” she sighs, dropping her eyes to the papers in front of her.

In a state of panic, your mind speeds through any events that happened since the last time you saw her. Did you accidentally ignore her once? Look at her funny? Yoon was big on body language.

You didn’t realize you were still staring at her until she tapped the glass counter between you two. “Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’re nervous. I just thought jokes would help.”

What?

“I’m not nervous, just tense for some reason. Although, you definitely made it worse,” you admit, “I might need to take a longer break today and somehow get Jay to rub my shoulders. Maybe I can bribe him with samgy--”

“--Uhh, forget him; have you even checked your client list for this week? I’ll do anything if you switch your schedule with me.”

Double-what?

“Okay, now you’re just being weird,” you chuckle, “But also, no, I haven’t checked yet. It’s Monday!”

In a sing-song manner, Yoon warns, “You better check your schedule before I snatch it...”

You laugh again and wave her off, but her words only mess with your head. As you make your way to the back room, you fidget and check your phone for any notifications you missed between when you exited the bus and now. You don’t know what you expected: still nothing.

As if you feel the weight of eyes on you, you glance up and notice some people are giving you looks.

What in the hell is going on? It’s 7am on a Monday and therefore way too early for people to be this upset with you. Yoon may have said she was joking, but by the looks of everyone else...

A hand claps onto your shoulder, causing you to yelp and feel like you rocket right into the ceiling. Only the hearty laugh beside you clues you in on who you were getting revenge on later.

“Geez, someone’s not looking forward to today.”

“You better sleep with one eye open tonight, Jay,” you seeth, hands rubbing your temples as you struggle to steady your heart rate. “Also, what’s so special about today? Yoon was being strange just a second ago, too.”

Your coworker looks at you like you have seven heads. “Okay, first off: if I had the amount of adrenaline in your body right now, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. And second: you didn’t check your schedule yet?”

They didn’t know it, but they were going to be the death of you.

“No, I ha--It’s a Mon--you know what, I’m going to check now; you guys are killing me.” You leave Jay in a rush and race to the employee lounge. The anxiousness in your chest is bubbling over.

Jay’s on your heels, whispering loudly, “I can spoil it right now if you want!”

You respond in a low voice, “Don’t you have a client to see?”

“Nope!”

You round the corner and see the back room door is already open, so you power through and head straight for the docking table on the other side. Everyone working here has a personal tablet, and you unplug yours from the charging port. Pressing through the menus as quickly as the tablet allows, you feel a thin layer of sweat on your skin. Touch ID. Login. Main Menu. Scheduling. Weekly Outlook. Confidentiality Prompt.

Shit.

Confidentiality Prompts are for the therapists that have huge clients scheduled. They’re put in place for celebrities and business executives to have guaranteed privacy.

With a start, you wonder why the hell Yoon wanted your schedule. Everyone here is wary of high-profile people. It’s a whole different experience since they basically hold your life in their hands in each session. You recall a horror story that happened when you first started working there, and still don’t know where that employee ended up.

Your only problem is that you’ve never had to deal with this before. Jay, Yoon, and a bunch of the veterans have, but this is going to be your first.

“Damn, yours is longer than mine was,” Jay observes before you squeeze your tablet to your chest. “That looks intense.”

“Umm, snoopy much?” You shift your body away from him and speed read through the very long, very wordy window. When you hit Accept, another window pops up that you have to read through. This one is even more fine print. You suddenly realize something and dart your eyes up. “Wait, you got one, too?”

Jay nods and looks away, and he actually looks nervous. “Yeah, we all got them this time.”

Now that is alarming. This client must be something else.

Window after window comes up and you wonder if you should probably read these in earnest. It’s starting to genuinely scare you.

If this is that big of a deal…

You banish that thought from your mind as soon as it appears. Elephants would have to fall from the sky before you believe someone from that group is booking you here.

You hit Accept before you realize you didn’t actually read and instead mindlessly scrolled through the prompts. As the screen buffers, you bite your lip.

The screen goes back to normal and presents your schedule for today. Your coworkers are living their normal lives, putting their stuff in their lockers and getting materials ready for various sessions. Jay is being completely normal as he can’t stop laughing at your expression.

And your life is anything but normal anymore because elephants are dropping from the clouds and the words Monday, 8am, Park Jimin are staring you right in the face.

“You mean to tell me that you cleared your morning schedule just to see my reaction?”

Jay laughs in earnest. “Yes, and it was so worth it.”

You are failing to stop bouncing your leg as you wait at one of the tables in the employee lounge. There’s a cup of coffee in front of you, but you already know you aren’t going to drink a drop of it. You are about to be in close quarters with the equivalent of a royal family member, so coffee breath is out of the question.

Suddenly self-conscious, you ask, “Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow?”

“I actually do. Let me grab it.”

As your friend gets up, you scrutinize the table in front of you to avoid peoples’ lingering stares. How everyone somehow knew your upcoming client before you did was a mystery, but you don’t really care enough at the moment to find out.

Jay hands you what you asked for and you thank him before heading to the bathroom to freshen up. After you brush your teeth like a madman, you check your face for discrepancies and sigh at your choice of almost no makeup today.

You can’t help but wonder if the thirteen cracks in the sidewalk are laughing at you at this very moment.

Checking your smart watch, you realize you have either the longest or shortest 30 minutes of your life left before your appointment with Jimin.

You huff out a laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. You refuse to believe this is real until you physically see him in the room. Confidentiality forms or not, the name Park Jimin or not, you still can’t wrap your head around the situation.

Speaking of the forms, you assume that they were printed out for company records as soon as you submitted yours to sign. You decide to head back to the front desk after throwing Jay his spare toothbrush, to which he responds with pure disgust.

It was like Yoon was waiting for you because as soon as you open the glass doors, she’s hounding you, “So what did you do in a past life? Did you save an emperor? Rescue a prophet?”

“I don’t know about a past life, but I did save a turtle when I was five.” You tap your fingers on the reception desk and stare at the orchids on the counter. “Or at least I thought I did. I probably just made his life harder. Can I see a copy of the forms I signed?”

“I’m gonna go with the saved prophet. Which one was it?”

“Yoon,” you beg, desperate as you glance at the abstract clock above her and see that you have 20 minutes left. A mere 20 minutes until he is supposed to arrive to check-in.

“Okay, okay! Hold on,” she chuckles and rolls her chair away from you and towards the printer. “By the way, if I wasn’t the one checking him in, I would’ve hijacked your entire day already.”

Her words are garbled since you are laser-focused on rubbing an orchid petal between your fingers. Its soft and supple touch is calming you, and just for a second, you are able to clear your thoughts.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when Yoon hands you the forms. The paper is still warm as you thank her and head towards the doors.

“Oh, wait,” Yoon calls behind you, and you turn to see her grabbing another small stack of papers. When she extends them over the counter, she explains, “I was waiting until you saw your schedule to hand these over. Read through them carefully.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, even more anxious than before.

Your heart jumps into your throat when you see what Yoon handed over. You don’t even remember the walk to the back lounge and to one of the secluded tables; all you can focus on are the papers in front of you. They look like they were written on and scanned before being sent over to the wellness center.

It’s Jimin’s handwriting.

You’ve seen his penmanship before. There is no mistaking the neat, determined strokes. Even the way he checked the boxes and circled the pain points on diagrams proves very... well, him. Any other uncertainty dissolves after you see his birthday filled in, as well.

This is really happening.

You gently slam the papers on the table and hunch over to commit the information to memory. Months and months of schooling have sharpened this ability of yours, and you are determined to imagine this as just another client you have to memorize.

Light to medium pressure. Avoid anything above light pressure around the spinal area and lower back. Shoulders, calves, and feet are pain points. Facial area priority.

A trip to the countryside right at this very moment sounds like a fantastic idea.

Jay plops into the seat in front of you, and that thought bubble bursts. “This color on your face suits you. Reminds me of what’s-his-name, Edward.”

“How much time do I have,” you question, not even acknowledging him.

“Seven minutes.”

“Of course,” you mutter before standing, the irony not lost on you. “I’ll go prep now.”

You don’t see Jay waving you off. “If you survive, I’ll see you on the other side!”

A laugh escapes you. Personally, your only goal is to make it through five minutes. If you pass away after that, you would have no regrets.

You stand behind the reception doors with your tablet to your chest, staring at the wall across the way. The subtle wallpaper pattern is a great choice for this place, you decide.

Indescribable anxiousness and fear aside, you have a job to do. As long as you keep your outside actions professional, your inner turmoil can be whatever the hell it wants. You’ve been in this profession long enough and you know you’re ready to do this. You’ve seen the whole spectrum of human emotion in this line of work. No matter how well of a job you do, there are still people that are never happy. As long as you focus on keeping the client’s wellness and health in mind, you keep your consciousness clear.

Then again, you haven’t had to deal with a client like Park Jimin before, let alone a high executive or well-known actress.

A muffled “Good morning and welcome” reaches your ears and you push yourself off the wall. The frosted glass only allows you to see so much, but you can make out a few guys standing in the front area. Two are taller and only wearing dark clothes, and the other is a bit shorter. The latter is looking to be wearing a beanie, light colored top, and dark pants.

You can’t hear anyone talking other than Yoon, but suddenly the shorter one makes his way to your doors.

It’s him. You’re absolutely sure.

Steeling your resolve, you pull your side open. With a smile, you look straight at your client’s sunglasses-and-mask-clad face and greet him just like you would anyone else, “Good morning and welcome. Am I speaking to Mr. Park?”

He stills for a second before he nods.

“Nice to meet you. We’ll be in Room 3.”

Jimin bows to you slightly and whispers a thank you, and you follow him to your room. Your heart is rattling nonstop as you note the height difference between the two of you. It isn’t as bad as you thought it was.

The door to Room 3 is already open, and when Jimin enters you stop at the entrance.

You lied earlier. None of this feels real. He’s physically in the room, and you still don’t think this is happening.

You let Jimin put his bag down on the corner chair before gliding into the formal greeting, “Since this is our first session, please let me know if there’s anything you need. I did go over your forms, but if there was something that wasn’t specified, feel free to ask. I want to make sure all of your needs are met today.”

“Your name?”

You falter. “What?” Did he just...

Jimin takes off his sunglasses, and you feel all oxygen leave your body. He’s still wearing a mask, but you can see that his eyes are creased just a tad. “It wasn’t specified on the forms. Your name?”

A part of you just chalks this up to being standard Jimin behavior, but the other part of you wonders if he really didn’t know whom he was getting a massage from. Did Yoon not tell him? Check-in is supposed to confirm your specialist.

You also note that his voice is infinitely softer in person. TV and recordings did not do this man justice.

Keeping it professional is all you must do. You tell him your name, apologizing for not introducing yourself already. It’s also on your tablet, so you show him while you talk.

Jimin leans forward to read it and smiles again. “Ah. Pretty.”

Are your five minutes up? Can you pass away now? He’s a mere six feet away from you but it feels like his presence is engulfing you.

All that escapes you is a tiny thank you. “So, mhm,” you clear your throat and yell at yourself to get it together, “Go ahead and undress down to your comfort level and lie down on the bed with the sheet on top of you. That remote there is connected to my tablet, so just take it off the charger and bring it to the bed. You can press the green button whenever you’re ready.”

Jimin looks towards the console table next to him and sees the white remote. It’s docked in a sleek charging port and stands out against the light wood. He nods, and you give him one last smile before reaching out and closing the door.

The only words your brain can process at the moment are not work appropriate, so you just go on autopilot to the employee lounge. You expected Jay or even Yoon to be chomping at your heels as soon as you left Jimin by himself, but neither of them are around. That was completely fine: employees aren’t allowed to divulge anything that goes on in client sessions unless it’s dangerous to either of you.

You help yourself to a cup of water and down it before pouring another. The fruit flavor for today is strawberry, and you watch the fruit and ice swirl around as you stir the big glass container. There are pastries and assorted breakfast foods calling your name in the clear cabinet next to you, but you refuse. Your adrenaline is hindering your appetite.

People are still giving you daggers for stares, but after seeing Jimin in person you really can’t blame them. Even when you couldn’t even see his face, you felt his presence. His aura filled up that entire room and he only spoke around ten words. It would be a lie to say that you aren’t intimidated. You can already count the number of times you almost bolted out of the room on two hands. But you made yourself proud: as long as you keep your outer actions calm, you can get through this. Your voice was fairly level for someone whose heart was bouncing out of their ribcage. In the end, you want to make him feel comfortable and safe. Emotions cannot exist right now.

Self-deprecation comes into play as you wonder if this is a huge mistake and if Jimin is already out the door to find a better therapist.

Oh, well. At least he said your name was pretty.

Your doubts are casted aside as your tablet dings.

Jimin’s ready for you.

When you enter the room, you can see that your client followed your instructions completely. You glance at the corner chair and see that he even folded his clothes and set his jewelry neatly on the thin, long table. Since Jimin can’t see you from his position, you allow a warm smile to grace your features.

You close the door as softly as you can. The way the room is designed, the clients lie down so that their head is opposite the doorway. It takes you a few steps until you reach the head of the bed. You gingerly take the remote from where Jimin placed it next to his neck and turn around to redock it, and start to dim the lights with your tablet. Per standard, you ask, “Mr. Park, is this okay, or would you like the lights lower?”

His voice is projecting straight towards the floor, but it still sounds so light, “This is good, but please, call me Jimin.”

That’s definitely not what you expected, but you are touched. You nod before realizing that he still can’t see you. “Do you have a music preference for today?”

“Whatever you prefer is fine.”

Jimin is being so agreeable that your nerves start to dissipate. You were expecting him to at least be a little particular at some things, but he is being really easy to work with. The atmosphere starts to feel safe enough for you to joke, “Well, it does depend on my mood, so for now I’ll play Standard Spa Chord Progression, No. 5 instead of No. 3.”

The small chuckle you hear melts your heart. “Ah, is that the one with the harp?”

“No, that’s Spa Concerto, No. 4. We don’t have that one in our library, but I think it’s terrible anyways.”

Jimin’s head lifts from the table in an earnest laugh, and you can’t help but laugh with him. It’s infectious.

You select a random song on your tablet, and you weren’t lying when you said it was standard. The song is less of a song and more like a bunch of reverberating chords in slow succession. That’s one thing you noticed about this place: modern tech but very outdated music. Get with the times! At least have some nice piano covers to choose from.

“Not having Spa Concerto, No. 4 may be a deal-breaker for me,” Jimin comments, a hint of a smile in his voice.

You’re still tapping on your tablet to get to his file, and you make your way back to the door. There’s a clear slot on each room’s door to hold employee tablets, and as soon as you store yours, you can finally start. “I don’t blame you, even though I think it’s awful, that one still topped the char--Oh, shit!”

You aren’t watching where you’re going, so you don’t see the shoes in your path. It’s so dim in the room and his shoes match the floor color but none of that matters because right now you are falling and you are falling fast. Your first instinct is to grab the table, but that would risk pulling the blanket off of Jimin and you would rather die than do that to him.

So, floor it is.

Your hand not holding the tablet breaks some of the fall, but your face definitely makes contact with the ground. You can feel the slight burn on your nose and hand, and a sharp lingering pain follows.

Okay, now can you pass away. Someone from the heavens can come claim you now.

Drowning in shame, you don’t help yourself off the floor right away. Not only were you breaking your rule and joking around, you also weren’t paying attention and now possibly ruined Park Jimin’s shoes.

You’ll look up good resigning practices later tonight. You have enough money saved up to make it a couple months without a job, you reckon.

When you finally lift yourself off the floor, you turn around and see Jimin pushed up on the table. His whole upper body is bare and twisted towards you, and this is the first time you see his entire face. It’s more beautiful in person, you conclude, even though it conveys nothing but concern right now. “Are you okay?”

You nod furiously and stand up completely. Your voice is shaky as you apologize, “I am so sorry. One moment.” Before checking yourself, you check your personal tablet. To say it was worth more than you isn’t that far of a reach. No scratches, though. Praise be.

“Don’t apologize… Did you trip on my shoes?”

Embarrassment washes over you as you nod, not looking at Jimin. Placing your tablet gingerly on the console table, you dust your uniform down and inspect your hands and feel your nose. Luckily, there’s no blood, only slight rug burns. If there was blood, you would have to postpone the appointment until you effectively sanitized. With what you have, you just need to go wash up.

Jimin is still watching you intently, which makes your face burn even more. What a mess. He’s probably second-guessing this whole thing.

You bow, feeling tears at the corners of your eyes. “Mr. Park, I am so sorry.”

“Jimin.”

“I’ll just need to clean my hands and then I promise we will start as soon as I get back. I know your time is valuable so I’ll make up for the minutes we lost.”

“I… Okay. Thank you.”

You make your way out of the room, still courteous enough to shut the door quietly. Rushing to the nearest sink, a small sob leaves your throat as you wring your hands under the water. Life is kind to you at this moment because no one is around. You would never live it down if someone saw you coming out of Jimin’s room crying.

After splashing water on your face and drying it, you take out a cotton pad from one of the glass containers on the counter. You press it onto your eyes, decreasing the evidence of your current state.

So much for making Jimin feel safe and comfortable. You’ve only made it awkward.

With a deep breath, you enter the room.

Jimin turns his head and puts it in the crook of his arm to look back at you. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t help you…”

You go over to his shoes and move them under the chair, wincing when you see visible tears on them. Guess you’re withdrawing a chunk of your savings to pay Park Jimin for damages.

“I assure you, I’m fine,” you state firmly, but soften, “But I’m really sorry about the shoes; I may have torn them. I can pay you back.”

You hear sheets shuffling, and when you face him, Jimin’s fully on one elbow and turned towards you. “No, please, don’t worry about those. I should’ve put them out of the way. I feel bad.”

“It’s definitely my fault,” you countered, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jimin uses your name, which stops you in your tracks. “Everything’s okay, I promise.”

You should feel many different things, like pride in getting to see this man in person, or happiness from him actually addressing you by name. But all you can think about in this moment is how disappointing you’ve been to another human being, and you sigh.

You nod, but still plan to pay him back. You know enough about designer brands to know those aren’t cheap, and they’re shoes you’ve seen him wearing a lot in photos.

“It’s okay to lie back down,” you say softly, unmoving.

Jimin searches your face one more time before settling back face-down on the table.

It’s a normal day at work, you tell yourself. Go through your routine.

Launching yourself into action, you move to the far end of the console table. Grabbing a bottle you’ve clutched so many times before that its label is wearing down, you uncap it and oil your hands and wrists. You also unstopper a bottle of lavender oil and pour a few drops into the nearby bamboo diffuser and start it.

You make your way to the head of the table and grab a rolling stool from a corner of the room. The wheels on your chair don’t make any noise, which you fixed up yourself. This day isn’t any different - it’s still silently gliding on the carpet. Plopping your devastated self onto the cushion, you scoot towards Jimin’s head. You’re about to place your hands onto his bare shoulders to start, but you whisper,

“It’s also okay if you want to cancel and reschedule with someone else, Mister--Um, Jimin.”

You can’t believe you just gave Park Jimin a way out of a whole 60 minutes with you. Where did this conviction and restraint come from? Is this going to be the regret of your entire lifetime?

After a long silence, Jimin answers with his face in the headrest, “If you call me Mister Jimin again, then I will.”

You huff out a laugh at his unexpected answer, and your shoulders finally relax. It seems like he’s still fine after everything that’s happened, and you thank any deity you can think of for this second chance.

Light to medium pressure. Avoid anything above light pressure around the spinal area and lower back. Shoulders, calves, and feet are pain points. Facial area priority.

You aren’t a fan of light pressure, but you understand why people prefer it. Not everyone can handle the deep tissue or harder pressure massages.

Jimin’s shoulders are incredibly tense, though, so you feel bad that you’re limited in what you can do. You allow some medium pressure to the worst spots, and when you approach the insides of his shoulder blades you lessen the intensity.

Gliding your fingers back to the ridge between his neck and shoulders, you feel that his right is still tight. You use your left elbow to work that knot, careful to press even lighter than you would with your hands.

Jimin grunts, and you still. “Is that too much?”

“No, I like that.”

You keep that in mind as your hands travel over the rest of his upper back area. From time to time, you reapply the oil to allow for less friction. It lets your fingers slide deftly across muscles and quickly work any troublesome areas, which Jimin has a lot of.

It makes sense: you can’t even imagine the amount of pressure all of the boys were constantly dealing with. There was a lull in their activity recently, so you knew something was in the works. Between recording songs, shooting music videos, fulfilling their brand contracts, and whatever else they do, you’re surprised you don’t feel more knots under Jimin’s skin.

The soft chords of the next song float around the room, and you lose yourself in your movements. You can’t see his face, which makes it a lot easier. You worked through his whole upper body, neck, and upper arms area so naturally that you were admiring his wrist tattoo before remembering who you were massaging.

For the seven hundredth time that day, you cannot believe this is happening. You really hope Jimin does feel safe here despite your whirlwind of thoughts. Have you kept it professional enough? Neutral enough? He seemed to be fine with your joking earlier, and he didn’t seem upset about the shoes in the least.

But still… Maybe he was just tolerating you because it’s the same situation for him, different place and day. Putting yourself in his shoes, you would feel pity for you trying your best to accommodate him. The pressure over everyone everywhere you go had to be exhausting. It couldn’t ever be normal.

Your shoulders suddenly slump under the weight of what you feel for him.

And Jimin seems to notice. “Really, it’s okay about the shoes. Those were getting pretty worn anyways.”

You still. Of course he thought you were still fussing over the shoes and not over his life. His unending consideration was like a burning hearth: it made you feel so warm.

“Okay,” you respond softly, “I understand.”

“Good. If you worry about them again, I’m walking out barefoot,” Jimin says sternly, even though you know he’s kidding. “And don’t test me, I’ve done it before.”

Your words leave you before you think. “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh?”

Jimin puts his hands on the table and you yelp, “Okay, okay, stop!”

He laughs and plops his arms back down flat. You lament as you still can see how his muscles bulge in your mind.

You shake your head and sigh before rolling to his left and softly taking his arm. His skin is so soft you don’t even need the oil, you notice. You work his forearm before moving down to his wrist and fingers. Thinking about Jimin’s threat, you are pretty curious. “Be honest: did that really happen?”

“It didn’t,” he responds immediately, “But I thought about it once. My shoes were killing my feet so I thought about walking without them until I found a shoe store.”

It sounds so childish to you that you chuckle. “Where was this,” you ask, completely intrigued now.

“Ah, I honestly can’t remember. I think somewhere in Europe.”

“...Did you just pick an entire continent because you couldn’t remember?”

“...There’s seven continents and one of them is Antarctica! Picking one out of six is easy.”

This man is something else. You finally finish off his right side, and you gingerly set his arm down on the table. With a mental pat on the back, you get ready for the next part of the routine. In your softest therapist voice, you instruct, “Okay, go ahead and turn over and slide down until your head is on the table.”

Jimin obeys right away, shifting over and moving down. The white sheet slips down his body a bit, and you diligently pull it up until it’s covering everything up to his neck. During this, you feel rather than see his eyes on you, so you don’t dare yourself to look.

You go back to your plethora of containers to re-oil, and roll your chair to the foot of the table. All that time, Jimin thankfully has his eyes closed.

You were equal parts dreading and looking forward to this part of the massage since his face was going to be visible. This way, you can’t escape the reality of the situation.

But you decided to follow the flow of the conversation. You learned the subtle nuances of human communication throughout your experiences: when people wanted to talk or stay quiet, if they were liking the conversation or not, etc. Jimin seems to be fine with talking despite your assumption that he was going to be quiet for the most part. It has definitely made this easier for you, though.

“I want to visit all seven continents one day,” you decide to admit.

“I do, too,” Jimin responds, eyes still closed. “How many do you have left?”

You start on his feet, working along the smooth skin.

“Uhh, well,” you whisper, “A good chunk. I’ve only been here and back where I’m from, and I just moved here around a year ago.”

After you tell Jimin where you were before, he sounds amazed, “You seem like you’ve lived here for so long. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

He’s definitely being nice. You are just now getting decent at the language and customs, but there is still a lot you have to learn.

“But, I do want to start traveling again for a specific reason,” you divulge, sighing to yourself as you think yet again about your lofty dreams.

“Which reason is that,” Jimin asks, and you somehow know his eyes are open now.

Your own eyes betray you as you connect your gaze with his. “I want to experience different techniques in person.” You don’t know he can feel the fire behind your eyes. “There’s no better teacher than experience, at least to me. I know I’m good at what I do currently, but there’s so much out there that I want to learn and get better at.”

You debate whether to keep going or not. Jimin’s eyes are alight with curiosity, so you take that as your cue. It’s surreal that you get to talk about your dream with him of all people, so you strive to make it count. “Take music, for example: everyone agrees that music is healing, therapeutic. But, there’s so many genres, so many ways to create it. I see massage as the same way: therapeutic, but many different ways to make people feel better.”

Jimin is silent as he tears his gaze from you to look at the ceiling. You concentrate on his ankles, working them as delicately but effectively as you can. A part of you wants to keep talking, but you don’t want to push it. You may have said too much as it is.

The next song has soft chimes to accompany the rippling chords. Lavender wafts through the air and quells your nerves. You continue to Jimin’s lower legs and glide your fingers along the flow of his muscles. When you feel a break or disturbance, you stop and tend to it until you feel it’s balanced. After his lower legs are done, you move on to his thighs. You feel tightness all over, and you apply medium pressure to these areas because of how much muscle they contain.

Jimin’s legs are a work of art on the outside, but so chaotic on the inside. The chakra highways are disjointed, and you have worked through so many kinks in the roads. If you imagine yourself as someone walking down a path, you are stopping every 10 steps to smooth over a pothole or breakdown a hill in the way. You can’t see how this person can even walk, let alone perform on stage like this. All of them never cease to amaze you.

“Where would you start?”

Jimin’s sudden inquiry throws you. You swear he was silent for a good ten minutes. “What?”

His eyes are glued to the ceiling still. “Which places do you want to visit? Like, where would you go to learn?”

“Well…” You are almost too stunned to speak. He has been thinking about what you said this whole time? Aren’t there plenty of more important things he needs to be thinking about right now? “There’s this technique called amma that originates in Japan, and there’s an American technique called esalen that I want to learn, too. I think that one is from California.”

On a high from Park Jimin’s interest in your life, you ramble about a few more, your voice getting more animated the more you talk about different things. It can’t be helped; you’ve been passionate about traveling and learning for so long. You’ve just never been able to really try it since money was part of the equation. Or more so out of the equation. In addition, you didn’t really get to talk about it with anybody. No one’s actually asked. But somehow, Jimin did.

When you realize you actually stopped massaging his thigh, you look up in horror to apologize, “Oh, I am so sorry - I didn’t mean to stop.”

Jimin’s head is turned to the side, his hair falling into his eyes. The smile gracing his face is soft. “It’s okay,” he assures you, “I feel much better already anyways.”

Your cheeks flush before he even stops talking. “That’s good,” you whisper, “We’re almost done so I would hope so.”

“What!” Jimin’s eyes dart to the clock on the table. It’s already 8:50am.

That saddens you a lot more than it should.

“On second thought: I feel tense in my hand, I think you need to go back and redo it. Here.” He’s extending his right hand towards you as if to shake hands, and you laugh.

“Nice try, Jimin,” you say, “But I do need to work on your face for the last part. Close your eyes for me, please.”

He stares at you for a second before obeying. The smile from earlier makes a return.

You roll your chair back to the head of the bed and plop down. Jimin’s face is angelic even upside-down, and you pray to the heavens that you massage it perfectly.

When you start, you quip, “See? You’re so happy we’re almost done.”

“No, no!” Jimin laughs. “That’s not it. You just called me Jimin - it was nice.”

“Oh.” You swear steam is billowing from your head. How can he affect you so intensely? And how were you keeping yourself together?

With the resolve of a thousand emperors, maybe including one you probably did save in a past life, you steady your hands on his temples. Rubbing in delicate circles, you start the last segment.

Face massages are your favorite. Even the smallest movements are invigorating, and you feel very refreshed after one.

“When I come back, Spa Concerto, No. 4 better be available.”

You smile. There’s no way Jimin will be back, but you appreciate his friendly nature.

“It’s not even all that great, but I’ll let them know,” you play along. “I’m more of a piano person, though. There’s a lot of piano covers saved in my phone that are way better.”

Jimin’s eyes flash open at the same time he proclaims, “Ah, I love piano covers! Especially on rainy days.”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement, “I can listen to those all the time.”

Your heart drops like a stone as you glance at the clock and see your time is up. The hour absolutely flew by. Dropping your eyes back onto Jimin’s face, you take your hands off his cheeks and say, “Okay, that’s the end of our session today.” You get up to dry your hands and lower arms with a cloth while going over the last steps, “I’ll leave you to get dressed, and I’ll come back to the room to give you water and some stretch and wellness recommendations moving forward. Just press the green button on the remote when you’re ready, like last time.”

When you turn back to him, Jimin’s fully propped up with his hands behind him. The blanket over him is draped across his body, just enough to cover his ribs. He’s smiling right at you as he speaks, “Thank you. You’re really good.”

You bow in thanks, face lighting up like wildfire. “You were great, too,” you comment in return, immediately cringing inside. “I’ll be back when you’re ready for me.”

Right after you leave clients is when you start filling out their evaluation and wellness recommendations on your tablet. You just worked on them, so the memories are fresh. The forms are a mix of multiple choice and fill-in, and you recommend some specific stretches and deeper pressure for Jimin.

This time, Jay is in the employee lounge when you come in to wait. His legs uncross and he pops up from one of the modern loveseats that are just as firm as they look. “She’s alive!”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the flush in your cheeks. “I’m here, but barely,” you chuckle, your tablet dangling in your hand by your side, “I still can’t believe that actually happened.”

Jay leans in so that no one can hear what he has to say, which makes you suspicious since there’s no one around you. In a low voice, he reveals, “Yoon and I made a bet.”

“Wonderful,” you drawl, “I’m gonna walk away now.” You can already tell this is one-hundred percent not in your favor.

“No, wait!” His whisper is loud. He bounces after you to the water and food station. While you fix yourself a cup, he continues, “Yoon thinks you’ll get done with the appointment unscathed, but I think you’ll come out of it with a problem.”

Jay’s words remind you like alarm bells.

You need to pay Jimin for damages.

“Oh, shit, I need to get something,” you say in a rush, grabbing your tablet off the food station and scurrying to the locker room. In the wellness center, the employee lounge is in the back, and the locker room is in the back of the lounge. You think you still have time before Jimin is ready.

There’s a notebook you keep in your bag along with a pencil case. Tearing a sheet from the notebook, you write down what you think is a good estimate for the shoes. Before you write anything else, you pause.

You only skimmed through the confidentiality prompts, but you do remember a section about personal information. Therapists aren’t allowed to give out their personal information unless specifically asked, and there has to be solid intent behind the client asking. Jimin didn’t need to ask you for yours; he just said not to worry about it.

After a good thirty seconds of your pen lingering above the paper, your tablet chimes.

A split second decision has you crumpling the paper and chucking it in your bag. You tear out a new sheet and tuck it with the pen under your tablet as you head back to Room 3.

You get to the room with a paper cup of water you grabbed on the way, and since you have things in both hands it’s a bit difficult getting the door open. You try the handle but it only jiggles a bit. One more try has you pushing the door right as the handle gives, and it works.

Jimin goes to you immediately when he sees your hands full, and you almost reel back from having him so close. Which should be odd, since you were literally just with him for a full hour, and he was not fully clothed. In the end, his presence alone is enough to affect you no matter the situation.

You extend the cup to him and he grabs it with a small thank you.

“I filled out your evaluation and it should be printed at the front already. Make sure to drink more water after you leave,” you say with a smile, your chest heavy. This was most likely the last interaction you would ever have with him.

Jimin nods, his mask covering his smile but not his eyes. He doesn’t say anything more.

You almost leave it at that, but something in you doesn’t want this moment to end, so you take your chance. “And, umm,” you stutter as you fumble with the pen and paper. You just lay your tablet on the massage table to free your hand, and click the pen open. “How much should I pay you,” you ask, your gaze ironically on the very shoes you tripped over earlier.

Jimin sets his cup down on the console table before taking the paper and pen from your hands. You watch him write something - a price in Won most likely - as you explain, “I’m a big believer of making things right, so please let me pay for your shoes. I should’ve seen them on the ground.”

He folds the paper and hands it back to you with the pen. “If you insist. But don’t check this until you get home.”

“What, why?” Your eyes dart to his face.

Jimin stares at you before responding, “Nothing bad. It just might shock you.”

Immediately, your gaze lowers. If you tell anyone how your day went today, you would think they were weird if they believed you. If you tell anyone why you’re suddenly broke come this Wednesday, they would be lying if they just went with it. “Okay, I won’t,” you assure him, and you’re telling the truth. You are equal parts surprised and nervous that he’s allowing you to pay him back.

With a deep breath, you give Jimin your best soft smile. Your heart is hurting as you send him off, “Well, it was a pleasure. Have a great rest of your day, Jimin. Until next time.” You catch yourself in a sea of emotion as your words die on your tongue. The boys have schedules on schedules, so the likelihood of him stepping foot inside this wellness center again is minuscule at best.

If anything, you’re grateful that you get to address him by name, and you succeeded in making this as smooth and safe as possible for him. At the expense of a scraped nose and hand, but rather you than him.

Jimin hoists his bag on his shoulder, the water cup you gave him already in the trash bin. He walks right up to you and stands there, and you swear both of you can hear your heart beating. One of his hands comes up to his masked face, and he speaks softly as he advises, “Ointment will help your nose if it still hurts.”

Warmth blooms in your chest and cascades all the way to your fingertips. Mirroring him, you bring a hand up to your nose and nod. Your words tumble out, “Oh, yes, you’re right. I can check if we have any in the back.”

Satisfied, Jimin nods. “Until next time,” he offers, his eyes creased and warm.

You smile again and bow slightly. He puts on his shades before heading out the door frame and into the hall, and you feel emptiness in his wake. The world is fuzzy around your vision and you are trying so hard to commit everything that just happened to memory.

Until the doors to front reception close, you watch Jimin’s retreating back. When the frosted doors close shut, you close your own door to Room 3 and lean against the wooden frame. The scrap of paper is creased in your hand as you clutch it to your hammering chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. It takes a good minute for you to compose yourself before pushing off the door and getting the room stripped and ready for the next session. The whole time, you replay everything in your head.

Jimin was just as nice as you have seen him through the lens of cameras. If that was the case, all of them had to be the same way. You are proud to like these wonderful people.

You’re so happy you got to actually spend all this time with him, but that just magnifies the sadness you feel when it’s over.

The room is done and cleaned up, and you go through the rest of the day on autopilot. Not even Jay’s constant teasing could free you from your euphoria-numbed state. The only thing that throws you back into focus is Yoon, and it happens at the very end of the work day.

You push open the doors to front reception, and smile big at your friend behind the counter. She’s beaming right back at you, and she puts her chin in her hand and shakes her head.

“That must’ve been one hell of a message,” she says through a barely contained smile.

Your hand flies to your forehead and you nod. “I can’t believe that happened, Yoon. I mean, it was really him. Opportunity of a lifetime… I just hope he enjoyed the whole thing.”

“You could say that,” she chuckles, “Enough to book you again, at least.”

What?

“He did?” Your breath leaves you in a rush. “If you’re joking with me, I’ll--”

“--He did. It’s not for a long time, but he asked for you specifically.” Yoon gathers papers in her hand and starts to organize them in the containers behind her. “You really piss me off, you know that?”

“Love you, too,” you whisper, your head completely above the clouds. You grab your phone and start checking your schedule from the wellness center app you have installed. Grabbing the door handle, you absentmindedly wave back to Yoon and call out, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The sun emits a golden glow at this hour, and the glass buildings along the street bask in its shine. You head towards your bus stop while skimming your calendar for Jimin’s next appointment, but you’re already four months out and see nothing. Not losing hope, you keep going and see a booking six months in advance. Your heartbeat skips as you click on the appointment, and almost skids to a halt when you see his name written down.

As soon as you enter your small apartment, you head straight to your bed and drop your bag on the comforter. Your whole body bounces as you plop yourself down next, and you stare straight at the ceiling.

Your life is still normal, right? Sure, you were able to spend an entire hour with Park Jimin, but that didn’t mean you aren’t still completely and utterly average.

You close your eyes and go back to Room 3. The scent of lavender fills your nostrils and you can still see his number tattoo as plain as day as you massage his wrist.

In all honesty, it still feels like a fever dream. That was someone else’s life you were able to live, someone else there with Jimin and you just decided to hitch along for the ride.

But that was real, and so is the amount of money you still need to withdraw from your bank account.

With a sigh, you reach into your bag and take out the piece of paper. You were dreading this moment all day since he left. Unfolding it, you prepare for the worst.

But all you can do is stare.

Jimin didn’t write down a price at all.

Your name is at the top, and the rest is as follows:

Save your money for traveling and learning new things, not on me. I can’t wait to see what you’ve learned when we meet again.

a/n: thank you for reading! if you guys have any comments or feedback, please feel free to let me know!

#text #jimin x reader #jimin fluff #bts fics #jimin fics #room 3 jimin #room 3 #ryen writes #member: jimin #long post #grammy nominated singer fic!!#ryenwrites

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huihuiheart · 4 years

Text

Claiming - Hybrid! San

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Ateez Masterlist

Pairing: Tiger Hybrid! San x Female Reader

Genre: Smut + Fluff

Summary: Part 2 of Obvious - San’s heat is coming to an end and he’s finally ready to hear your explanation for the events that brought it on in the first place. He also realizes though that some of those feelings he had during the week weren’t just his heat talking.

Warnings: The implied cheating from part 1 is explained, unprotected sex, marking, dom/sub themes, oral (f! receiving), degradation, dirty talk, cursing, soft and hard dom San, biting, claiming, blood, slapping (one to the thigh).

Word Count: 2,884

Note: This was finished and edited on breaks between my first day of a new job, with only three hours of sleep in my body, so it might be a mess. If you have concerns or things that seem like they need to be fixed please send me an ask or pm to resolve it.

“A-All yours! I’m your filthy fucking slut! Your kitten! S-San please!” You wonder if you’ve done enough as he only curls his tongue into you once before pulling away again. When he’s flipping you over though and placing your hips on the highest part of the armrest to show your ass off you already know what he’s planning, “F-Fuck yes! San please, please fuck me so good! Show everyone who owns this pussy!”

San laughs breathlessly as he strips behind you, playfully spanking your ass as he teases his tip through your fold before gripping your hips harshly and suddenly thrusting all the way into you. Leaning down with a smirk he kisses the shell of your ear before whispering.

“Oh, I will, kitten. You’ll be dripping my cum for days.”

You stirred by the feeling of fleeting kisses against the sensitive marks littering your neck. Your quiet whimper makes San slow his pace, being more gentle in the way his lips and tongue soothe at the marks he so harshly left behind over the last few days.

“Are you already ready for another round?” You whine softly, slumber still deep in your voice as you don’t even open your eyes yet. San was definitely built for weeks like this whereas you...not so much, despite how pleasant it was.

San chuckles deeply, “I mean I am, but that’s not why I woke you. I hadn’t intended to wake you at all. You’ve done so well for me this week, but you’re so exhausted now I just wanted to let you sleep.”

You hum softly with a small yawn, “You’re oddly soft right now, is your heat over already?”

“Not entirely, but it’s pretty much passed. I might get a sudden flash or two of heat today and tomorrow, the worst is over though. I’m at least coherent again.” San brushes the hair out of your face as your eyes finally flutter open to look up at him, before he kisses you softly, “Though eating you out might help with that a little bit too.”

You snicker knowing his statement was actually a request, “Go ahead then, you woke me up anyway and I’m too tired to stop you.”

San hums teasingly, “More like too enticed to stop me.”

You roll your eyes, making San laugh a little as he moves to hover over you, gently nudging your bare legs apart. You’re clothed in only a shirt and some panties knowing anything more wouldn’t have lasted during his heat anyways...not that these often did either.

His hands ease up your thighs, inching closer and closer to your panties and the beginning of a wet spot that was forming. His thumb finding your clit through the thin fabric and rubbing slow circles onto it, easing your sensitive body into arousal once more.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s ready to go again.” San teases, nuzzling up your thigh until he reaches your panties. His tongue giving slow laps over the wetness seeping through the material, a moan low in his throat at your taste.

His heat is still spiking just slightly with you like this, so his hands are already moving to take your panties off. Going as slow as he can will with his heat making itself known still, not to tease for once though, simply to ensure your comfort after the last couple days of restless fucking.

San’s rough tongue is slow and gentle in its movements between your folds. Watching your face closely to take in how you were feeling. When he determines that you’re feeling good and it’s not too much he places a soft kiss on your clit before giving it some attention. His lips around your clit shrouding your whole body in sweet bliss. His goal is just to bring you over the sweet edge once and to do so gently, letting your tensed worn-out body release and finally relax some. Only lapping your release up for a little bit, not wanting to overstimulate you, just to clean you up.

“So good for me, kitten. Such a good girl.” San praises softly and you buzz at the praise drawing him up for a brief kiss.

“Does this mean we can finally talk about what happened?” You inquire with a quiet voice not wanting to push anything, especially with San’s heat still lingering.

San hums, “We can, but not yet. First I’m going to draw you a nice bath to relax and clean up in and then I’m going to feed you some breakfast. We can talk once I’ve made sure you’ve had a chance to recover.”

He kisses your forehead before going to do as he had said he was going to. Humming a soft tune as he goes, something that eases your worries about where you and he stood.

Leaning back in your seat after finishing a full meal without interruption for the first time in four days you were starting to feel much more recharged now. Thinking that San may have had a good point in wanting to clean up and eat properly first.

Resting your chin in your palm you watch him as he finishes up his own food and it makes him chuckle, “That eager to talk about it?”

“I mean...I’ve been anxious about it so kind of ready to get it over with. I’m worried about what you think of me.” You admit, leaning into San’s touch when you feel him cupping your cheek.

“I know I get jealous easily, but I trust you, my love. I know whatever explanation you have will be reasonable.” San encourages brushing his thumb over your skin.

“My brother is visiting, so I went to spend some time with him. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, so there was a lot of hugging involved.” You laugh a little when San’s brows furrowed in confusion knowing the scent wasn’t anything like yours or anyone in your family, “He was my foster brother. My family looked after him for a few years until someone adopted him...well before we were able to anyways. He comes and visits when he can, but it’s not super often. I was going to tell you about it, considering he wants to meet you, but it kind of triggered your heat, so we’ve not really got a chance to talk about that.”

San flushes a little rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah...we have been a bit preoccupied...but of course, I’d want to meet him! Though I am curious as to why he wants to meet me.”

“He said it’s because you’re important to me...and he says he can tell from how happy I am that you’re the one. So he wants to come to see if you have any wedding plans or anything I guess.” You laugh a little but notice how his ears perk up at the mention of weddings.

“Oh? It’s interesting you bring that up...cause my heat got me thinking about somethings.” San admits, blushing a slightly deeper hue now.

This time it’s you who reaches out to him, cupping his cheek in your palm and trying to calm him, “Well you can talk to me about it if you’re ready to. You know that.”

San nods softly, hand slipping over yours and turning his head to kiss your palm, “I just want to move too fast and scare you away or anything.”

“If you’re moving too fast I’ll say so, but I seriously doubt you’ll ever scare me away at this point. If that was going to happen it would have happened a long time ago.” You joke with him, trying to lighten the mood some and put him more at ease.

“Well we haven’t really talked about it too much, so for starters...hybrids don’t usually have a wedding as you would have. I mean...I’m not opposed to it of course especially for you and your family. I know how special and meaningful that is for you...but we take that step differently typically.” San explains, noticing how your face scrunches in confusion. You had done a lot of research about hybrids having San around and wanting to be familiar with his needs and what to expect, yet you’d never seen anything that you could think he could be talking about now.

“Well then what do you usually do? I want to know. If we were to have a wedding for me, then I’d want to do the equivalent for you too.” You encourage and he takes your hands in his carefully.

“Why don’t you hear what it is before making that decision, my love. It might not be so pleasant for you...like my heat you’ll be okay to handle it, but you weren’t made for it either. So if you don’t want to do it I understand.” San leans forward brushing your hair back and kissing your forehead softly, “For hybrids, we do something a lot less public...and a lot more intimate. Usually, we get the urge to do it while in our heat, but unless we really want that it goes away after our heat...that desire isn’t going away for me this time. I want it still.”

Your skin is a bit heated at the implications, but you still have so many unanswered questions, “Just tell me what happens San. It’s alright.”

“When a hybrid and the person who he wants to be with forever...to be his mate are...well...breeding. He claims her, right here...” San’s thumb brushes over the sensitive skin on your sweet spot, the very spot he loves to suckle his marks onto, “ It’s a bite simply put, meant to leave a lasting mark for anyone to see. It will hurt and it will bleed, but I promise it will make you feel good too and I’ll take care of you if you were to agree.”

You hum, processing his explanation for a moment, “And you want to do that with me?”

San nods almost immediately, “I do. I really...really do, but I don’t want to hurt you or do anything that would make you upset or uncomfortable.”

“Well, I’ll agree...on one condition.” You finally voice your opinion and it has San looking at you intently, waiting to hear whatever it was your condition would me. Ready to do anything in a heartbeat, “I want to do this in some sort of order that makes sense to me too...so propose first and once we’re engaged you can claim me in every way you want San.”

“Oh fuck...I totally forgot about the whole engagement thing...I have to get a ring, don’t I? ...fuck, I don’t even know where to start.” San whines and it makes you giggle.

“Who says we have to have the ring in hand for you to propose? You can ask without it...besides I’m sure my family would love to help you pick something out later.” You smirk at him, watching as it takes a minute to understand what you mean before getting giddy once again.

San scrambles down onto one knee, giggling a little himself, “Well then...Y/N will you marry me? Will you be my one and only? Forever?”

“Yes San, I will.” You giggle back, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to kiss him. Something he easily returns as he stands and takes you into his arms.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become more intense, San’s heat flashing through him again at your agreeing and touch. It being enough to spur on another wave of desire, one that was obvious even to you as a human. In part because you knew him and in part due to the fact that his skin burned under your touch, his arousal building beneath his pants and pressing against your hip.

“Well go on then...if you want it so badly I’m not going to stop you San. I want it too, to be yours for the whole world to see...claim me San.” Your pleads have San growling, nipping at your lips before capturing them passionately once more. His hands groping at any part of you that they could get to as he gets more desperate to feel you again.

San’s hands move to grip your thighs, pressing against you before picking you up to carry you back to your bedroom. His tongue laving over your sweet spot, before giving it special attention with his lips, only breaking away to lay you back onto the bed.

“How sore are you, kitten?” San asks, hands toying with the hem of the shirt you were wearing as he watches your face.

“Not enough that you should hold back.” You smirk, knowing what he was asking and he smacks your thigh playfully, barely leaving a sting.

“Don’t get cocky with me, just because I’m trying to take care of my kitten. Besides you’re going to be sore again after this.” San’s words sound more like a promise than anything else as his lips find your throat again, seemingly fixed on it right now. His hands working your shirt up at a slow pace, not ready to leave the sweet spot his mouth was focused on again yet.

“I better be. I like having that constantly reminding me of you. Besides, the things that lead to me being so sore are the most fun anyway.” Your words make San smirk against your skin, before pulling back to pull your shirt off entirely.

“Oh is that so kitten? Does my girl like it rough?” San mocks leaning down to bite playfully at your nipple, “Want me to ruin you?”

“Fuck, yes...I do. I want it so badly.” Your desperation is growing along with his and making you both restless. San’s chuckle turns into a growl as he smells your arousal in the air.

San’s fingers slip down between your folds, seeing how wet you were before quickly pulling your panties down. His hand moves to return to your folds until you push it away, making his eyes snap up to your face sternly.

“Easy there tiger.” You snicker, “I’m not stopping you, it’s just...”

San’s brows furrow at your hesitance thinking maybe you were reconsidering this for now, until he sees how flustered you are instead of regret on your face, “What is it kitten?”

“Please no teasing...I’m already ready for you again, no prep.” You admit and San licks his lips looking down at your soaked folds.

“Oh, so that’s what it is hm? And here I thought I was the desperate one with my heat.” San taunts, making quick work of his pants and letting his hard cock slap against his abs.

You nod, biting your lip. Though soon it won’t matter what you do, San will have you screaming. San’s tip running through your sodden folds as something, before pushing into you. The feeling only more familiar after the last few days, but no less blissful. His hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing at your skin, before his touch gets firmer, holding you in place. His thrusts start slow, but deep and forceful, hitting all the right spots. Enamored with the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, leaning down and teasingly flicking his tongue over one of your nipples.

As his pace picks up his hands move to your thighs, pushing them open to give himself full access to your heat. His one hand moving up again, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles onto it. His other hand now gripping your jaw to make you look into his eyes. His lips moving in towards yours, growling against your lips.

“Fuck kitten, you’re so good for me. You’re going to take it, won’t you? You’ll cum and then take everything I give you like a good girl won’t you?” San’s questions are more of a demand knowing that you could, but there’s a desperation to them that lets you know he needs your answer too.

Your palms pull his face in for a kiss before moving his face to your neck again, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging to a nip and another growl.

"I...I'm going to cum for you San..." You keen, San thrusting harder, his fingers putting more pressure on your clit. Trying to distract you from the initial pain you would soon feel as he bites down onto your sweet spot the second he feels you cumming around him. The pain soon bleeds into white-hot pleasure coursing through your whole body, riding you through your orgasm, the more intense you've had yet as he cums inside of you.

Once you've both started to come back to reality San leans down, gently lapping at the wound as blood trickles out and onto your skin. Before giving you a short, sweet kiss.

"I'm going to clean that up and get it taken care of and then I'll take care of the rest of you kitten." He promises, kissing your forehead, " You've done so good for me you can rest now."

His words of assurance are all your body needs for you to start drifting off again. Only slightly registering the feeling of him cleaning and dressing the wound for you before you're entirely swept away into your dreams...dreams of the future. Of your future, with San.

Tags: @foreveryouaremystar

#san smut #san imagine #san x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #fic:obvious

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sasukelore · 4 years

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First time/foreplay hcs, w/ Bakugou Katsuki

Request: since your doing bnha requests im bakugo thirsty 🥵 hcs for foreplay/first time

Authors note: I hope these are up to my usual standards... thank you for requesting ❤️ (reposting because the last one didn’t show up in the damn tags, yes I’m still salty about it)

Please read Warnings: NSFW, foreplay, fingering, sexual themes, choking, degradation

Okay sO, If you think because it’s your first time Bakugou is gonna be gentle? You’re sorely, sorely mistaken.

He tries his best to be at first... But being soft was never something he particularly cared for.

He’d definitely start off with teasing your folds, letting his fingers graze your slit. He’d be so cocky about it too, you’re so wet and he’s barely even touched you.

“You like that don’t you? I don’t even need to push my finger in, do I? I can get you off like this all on it’s own.” He’d say with a sloppy half-smirk.

Despite his rough attitude in the moment, he’s definitely very nervous. Nervous of being too rough, of hurting you, and him not making you feel good

Soo, that being said, he would definitely appreciate (internally of course) if you praised him...

He’ll love it if you stroke his ego. But be prepared for the storm that is his fingers curling inside of you

He’ll tease and tease.. Looming his mouth over your ear, whispering how you’re such a little princess, such a brat

He’ll lOVE it if you’re sensitive anywhere on your neck. You’ll be able to tell by how much attention he’s paying to those spots

He can’t even help it when he wraps his hands around your dainty little neck. The way your back arches makes him twitch...

Bakugou laughs and scoffs at you. He’ll tease you, because who knew you were such a freak, eh?

He will be mindful about how much degradation he throws in though, especially in the first time.

But Bakugou trying to be gentler is equivalent to Enji Todoroki trying to be a good dad... It doesn’t work... (LMFAO)

Once he has you nice and ready, writhing under him, he quickly slips on a condom. You won’t even notice him doing so however, you can only focus on Bakugou’s thumb rubbing your bottom lip soothingly.

As he slips inside you slowly, he pins your hands next to your head. He’ll drop his head to your neck again, whispering in your ear how pretty you and how good you take him

It’s only when he’s snug inside of you, you can almost hear him growl. His hands are bruising your wrists and his breaths are already becoming heavy

He’ll start off with a slow pace, rocking his hips back and forth into you. But, your own moans will only egg him on further as he becomes animalistic

He’s about to go ROUGH ROUGH. He’s alternating having his hand on your throat and slapping your thigh

Bakugou curses a lot during sex... A long string of fucks and shits accompanied by a raspy voice will have your legs shaking and little whimpers as replies

He loves all the noises you make. Every single moan has his mouth twitching up into a smirk.

The aftercare? He’s wiping your thighs off, kissing your knee, making sarcastic jokes

Before falling asleep he’ll ask if you were ok, if you felt any pain, he’ll even offer to get you some water.

#boku no hero academia #shounen #boku no hero headcanons #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia headcanons #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero imagines #bakugou smut #bakugou #bakugou imagines #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki

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somethingvaguetodo · 3 years

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I Won’t Let You Down, So Please Don’t Give Me Up

For @2grinninggirls who requested “unbind me” from this prompt list. Read on AO3 here.

~~~

“Free me, Marinette.” Chat’s crystal clear blue eyes were pleading, his white claw extended toward her.

Ladybug ran toward him, but every step she took closer made the distance between them grow. “I’m coming,” she called out to him, but he didn’t seem to hear.

“We can be happy together, my lady.”

Ladybug wiped her tears as she ran, stumbling in her haste, but it was as if she was running into a hurricane, and wasn’t strong enough to fight the wind. “I’m trying!”

Chat was a white blur against the azure sky. “Let’s fix the world together,” he said, his voice soft. “Our two miraculouses together, and we can be free from all of this. No more Hawkmoth, no more fighting, no more secrets. Just you and me, us against the world.”

She fell to her knees, unable to run anymore. “We can end it?” She wasn’t supposed to want that. She wasn’t supposed to listen to his sweet words, his promise of freedom and peace and no more heartbreak.

That didn’t stop her from longing for it with every fiber of her being.

“Yes, Ladybug.” Suddenly he was next to her, holding out a hand to help her stand up, supporting her like he always did. She looked up at him, hesitant, not sure if taking his hand was equivalent to making a deal with the devil. “We can fix the world to be just how we want it. We can be free. Maybe just the two of us, on a deserted island, living off of coconuts and passionfruit.” His smile was soft and sweet - it didn’t match his akumatized form. “Or we can stay in Paris, and one day take over your parent’s bakery like your father wanted.” She wanted it; oh how she wanted it. Freedom, not having to worry about having the weight of the world on her shoulders anymore, a real partnership with this boy who meant the world to her. She lifted her hand, mesmerized by him, and let her palm settle against his. “Or we can live in a little cottage on the outskirts of the city, with a vegetable garden and a hamster named - ”

“Marinette!”

Marinette jolted awake, sitting up ramrod straight in bed and nearly banging her head against the ceiling. Tikki fluttered in front of her face, clearly distraught. “I’m sorry for waking you up, Marinette,” she said, rubbing her little nub hands together. “You were crying, and whimpering, and I figured you were having a bad dream.”

Marinette nodded, holding a hand to her chest as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down. She rubbed her other hand over her face, noting that it was wet, and the tears that had fallen in her dream had actually tracked down her cheeks while she was sleeping.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tikki asked. Marinette nodded again, but without waiting for Tikki to continue, called on her transformation.

Ladybug took Marinette’s place in her bed, and she curled up on her side against her giant cat plush before opening up her yo-yo.

Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up. She internally chanted as the call went through, counting each ring and steeling herself for the possibility of being sent to voicemail.

“M’lady, issthere an akuma?”

Chat’s voice was slurred with sleep, and Ladybug felt bad about waking him up, but couldn’t ignore the immediate relief she felt at hearing his voice.

“No akuma, Chat,” she assured him. “I… just wanted to talk to you. Sorry.”

“Another nightmare?” He sounded more awake now. This wasn’t the first time Marinette had woken up from a bad dream, and it wasn’t the first time she had called Chat for help. She never told him the details of the dreams, wanting to spare him the burden of the knowledge of his akumatization, but knowing he was there on the other side was always reassuring.

She shoved the phone between her ear and her cat pillow, leaving her hands free to play with the edge of the comforter. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, bug. Want to talk about it?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice.” She purposefully avoided the question. If she let him ask too much, she would eventually give in to the fact that she did want to talk about it. And if she started talking, she probably wouldn’t be able to stop. “Sorry to wake you, I won’t keep you up for long.”

“You can keep me up all night,” Chat said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

She let out a giggle. “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything.”

Chat was silent for a moment. “Coccinellidae is a widespread family of small beetles ranging in size from 0.8 to 18mm.”

“Are you reading to me from the ladybug Wikipedia page?”

“Yep. Clearly I need to edit it because you’re definitely taller than 18 millimeters. You’re at least 1500 millimeters.”

“I hate you,” she answered him, but she was grinning, and she knew he knew it.

She stayed quiet while he read, feeling warm and comfortable with the sound of his voice, hushed over the phone so he didn’t wake the rest of his household and telling her about the etymology of the word ladybug. By the time he reached color variations, her eyelids had drifted shut, and she knew they would have to bring their conversation to a close soon.

“Hey, Chat?” She cut him off. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to ask him this question, but couldn't keep it in. “Have you ever thought about… using our miraculouses? To make a wish?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Is that what your dream was about?”

“Partially,” she conceded.

“I’ve… thought about it.” Chat sounded hesitant. “Not that I would ever do it!” he rushed to assure her. “But thought about it in an abstract way, I guess.”

“I…” Marinette didn’t know how to finish her thought. “What would you wish for?”

Chat was silent for a while, and she was worried that he was offended by the question. Finally, he spoke. “Freedom.”

It seemed like a simple word, but it held the weight of the world.

“Freedom to make my own decisions, to make my own path in life. Freedom to be your… friend… without needing secret identities to keep us safe.”

Her heart rate picked up. It was so similar to what the Chat in her dreams had said, it was almost as if he was there. Or, more likely, it was almost as if her subconscious knew him better than she liked to admit.

“That’s what I’d wish for too.”

It seemed irreverent to admit that to him. It was far from her biggest secret, but it was somehow shameful to confess that she wanted freedom from their responsibilities, that she wanted to just be with him without worrying about his akumatization, or her own akumitization, or what would really happen to the world if Hawkmoth got their miraculouses.

“Really?” Chat sounded surprised and hopeful, and she hated how both of them knew that this may not happen for a really long time.

“Really.”

“One day it won’t be a wish,” he said. “One day it won’t just be an idea of our perfect world, but we’ll make it our world.”

“Yeah?” She asked, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re gonna make our world, not wish it into existence.”

Chat let out a low chuckle. “I think it’s time for you to go back to sleep, m’lady.”

As much as she wanted to fight it, she couldn't overcome the sleepiness that had settled in her bones, pressing down on her eyelids and making her feel warm and cozy. “Okay, goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

Ladybug smiled. “Hey, Chat?” She waited for his answering hum before finishing her thought. “I’m going to free you.”

She could hear Chat breathing, but wished she could see his face. Behind her eyelids he was smiling, soft and sweet, and his eyes were glowing a brilliant green. “I’ll hold you to that, bug.”

Ladybug listened to the quiet three beeps that let her know the call had disconnected. She let her transformation fall, wrapped her arms tight around her cat pillow and dropped into a dreamless sleep.

#my writing #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #ladynoir #ladynoir fanfiction #prompt #chat blanc spoilers #this kind of takes place in an alternate season 4 #because its definitely not this season 4

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dontcallmecarrie · 3 years

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stress + commute + relentless plot bunny = tada, continuation to this!

"Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour.” Director Fury said as he settled down into his chair, eyeing him with a wariness one would normally give a live bomb, while at his side, Agent Romanov remained eerily impassive as she surveyed them both. “We’ve got some questions I get the feeling only you can answer.”

For his part, Justin Hammer merely leaned back into his own chair and steepled his fingers with an easy smile— which wasn’t as easy as he made it look, with the way he’d been cuffed. “Like I told the guards the first time, and the fifth, and the twelfth— if I knew what’s going on, I’d tell you.”

Though he could make a very reasonable guess, between Ivan’s latest experiment literally blowing up in all their faces and the whispers he’d been able to catch from the guards.

“Sure you would.” Director Fury said, no small amount of disbelief in his voice, and he shrugged.

“Take it from me, I’m about as happy as you are. You think I asked to get dropped smack-dab in the middle of some supermax? When I had a shareholder’s meeting coming up?”

“You appeared the same time an energy fluctuation was registered in several locations around the world.” Agent Romanov said, and Justin blinked.

“Oh?”

“Your existence is being kept classified, on pain of risking an international incident. Several countries’ systems and power grids were apparently caught up in whatever it is you’re a part of, and they’re not nearly as nice about getting their answers as we are.” She continued, the picture of reason, and Justin couldn’t keep the fondness from his smile because some things never changed, did they?

Of course SHIELD’s shadiness was a fundamental constant. And these guys probably thought they were being so subtle, too; Agent Romanov in particular seemed to think she knew him, which would undoubtedly come in handy in the future but was merely a nuisance at the moment. Not that it hurt to play along for now, but still.

Come on, give him some credit here.

“Which is all well and good, but the fact of the matter still stands: I. Don’t. Know. All I know is, one minute I’m caught up in the middle of some accident, thinking I’m going to be seeing pearly gates a whole lot earlier than I’d expected, and the next, these gentlemen—” Justin indicated, giving a slight nod to the security guards standing just out of earshot, “are giving me a...interesting welcome to Seagate, let’s just leave it at that.”

He’d be feeling it for a while, at the very least. Thank goodness for brief stint with the rugby club had taught him how to roll with the hit, otherwise some of the bruises he had would’ve been even uglier than they already were. As it was, getting changed into the stupid jumpsuit they’d forced him to wear had been a trial in and of itself, when simply bending over stole his breath away with the way his ribs twinged.

“That doesn’t answer our question.” Director Fury said, even as Agent Romanov leaned forward slightly.

“We can only help you as much as you help us, Justin.”

He couldn’t help the snort, at that. “What do you want me to say? I’m not some expert in what, dimension-crashing or whatever? Look, I’m not stupid, I saw my twin— or whatever you call him, anyway, I’m not sure how any of this works. Hey, how’d he mess up, anyway? I know I’ve made some poor life choices over the years, but those were mostly terrible haircuts and all-nighters during grad school, not...nothing on this scale.”

Nobody was stupid enough to alienate the CEO of the Hammer Industries, not when they were number one in the defense industry. Not when Justin had enough connections and favors piled up over the years to render him essentially untouchable to anyone but the heaviest of heavy hitters— and even then, they’d have to think twice before going after him.

...in his universe, anyway.

Which begged the question: just how badly had the Justin of this universe fucked up, for him to be in supermax? He needed to know the playing field before he could make any moves, especially if he wanted to secure anyone’s cooperation in getting home.

“You saw him?” Agent Romanov’s brow furrowed for a moment, before leaning back into her chair. “They hadn’t mentioned that.”

Justin let the corner of his mouth twitch up, as he also leaned back and shrugged. “These guys? Yeah, I’ve noticed they’re not exactly the chattiest.”

Director Fury’s frown deepened for a moment, before he gave him a searching look followed by a sharp nod as he stood up. “We’re transferring you into our custody. This matter has gone beyond their pay grade.”

With that, he turned and strode towards the interrogation cell’s entrance, Agent Romanov at his side and Justin rubbed his temples for a second at the impending headache because if this was what he thought it was, he was either going to be dealing with the Avengers, or be disappeared to whatever shady hole in the wall SHIELD had that’d make this place look like the Ritz.

...which also meant the rudimentary plans he’d been working on would be useless. Damn.

He took a deep breath, and let it out, and pretended it didn’t bother him, even as he watched Director Fury get into what appeared to be a very heated conversation with the prison warden. He couldn’t hear anything, not with the inch-thick bulletproof glass that separated the interrogation cell from the rest of the building.

As it was, the warden gestured for the guards to escort him back to his cell with his usual scowl, and Justin was good enough to know a power play when he saw one and oh, it was going to be that kind of mess, wasn’t it.

In the five minutes he’d had the dubious pleasure of meeting him, Seagate Penitentiary’s warden had come across as a jackass who liked to boast about running a tight ship but didn’t actually do anything for it— the epitome of a big fish in a small pond. Which was typically something he could get away with, but if this Director Fury was anything like the one Justin dealt with, then this particular encounter would be the only thing the guards’d be talking about for months.

And then.

The lights flickered for a second, and Justin froze.

So did the guards who’d been about to escort him back to his cell, some of whom were already reaching for their taser guns and he could already feel one of the guards starting to shove him forward when an unholy screech tore through the air and Justin knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what was happening as he caught a glimpse of familiar silver moments before the entire area plummeted into darkness.

Cabal was here.

Victor von Doom was a practical man.

So when his part of the plan had him working with a Winter Soldier who was still in the early stages of recovery from the mindfuck HYDRA was responsible for, he didn’t so much as bat an eye, just made sure he had a few extra backups for if things got hairy.

Which they did, but not for the reasons he or Soldat had expected.

For one, the interference of SHIELD— which had been something they’d picked up some chatter on, but not enough for concrete dates and he was not happy to find that if they hadn’t broken in when they had, Justin would’ve been snatched up and disappeared off to somewhere even harder to reach.

...if not for the fact that their plan required surgical precision, Victor would’ve given into the temptation to shoot something. Or someone, he wasn’t picky.

But needs must, so he gritted his teeth, coldly noted who said what during their eavesdropping, and stuck with the plan he’d formulated because Justin and the others were counting on him.

For his part, Soldat was a great partner for this aspect of their mission; even though he’d never done fieldwork like this before, and was not used to working with a magic user, he rolled with the punches and the guards never saw him coming.

Sometimes literally, because one of the few things Victor had mastered was a basic illusion— the magical equivalent of a flash-bang, sure, but it worked. Sure, it took a lot of focus for both of them to pull it off, but the important part is that it worked and their exit was as clear-cut as they could make it.

So when he and Soldat approached, he gave the signal and Soldat tapped his comm with a muttered, “objective secured,” and Victor didn’t question the odd echo because they had far more pressing matters at hand.

Such as the sight of his oldest friend in a prison jumpsuit, face slightly gaunt and glasses cracked and just like that, Victor found himself regretting telling Soldat about Cabal’s usual ‘no-kill, minimal collateral damage’ MO.

But.

They were on a time crunch, shift change was coming up and it took everything Victor had to stick to The Plan.

One flash-bang later, and Soldat did his part beautifully, a whirlwind of chaos and Justin’d helped him and Winter plan out theoretical combination attacks well enough to know to duck to the side and with that, the most vital part of this entire operation was secured.

“Victor? I’m assuming it’s you.” Justin blinked the stars out of his eyes even as a familiar hand reached over to help him up, and he took it gratefully. “Good to see you too, Winter—”

“It’s Soldat,” the man corrected gruffly even as he ushered him along, and Justin blinked.

“Oh, my apologies. Thank you, Soldat.”

“Introductions later, we’re on a time crunch,” Victor cut in, voice unusually flat and the last time Justin had seen him this angry had been during that HYDRA mess— what was going on?

Seeing his concern, Victor’s expression lightened for a moment and he gave him a quick smile. “Catch you up later, but we really need to go.”

Victor stared.

He couldn’t help it— just.

At his side, his Justin looked at the rest of their allies with concern, even as his counterpart started to pale and hyperventilate and how was this his life?

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#schrodinger's canon #My writing

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funnyexel · 4 years

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Quiet Tsundere x Reader

A/n: This is a drabble. If you like it don’t be shy, leave a request. In the requests on my page. Enjoy <3333

Masterlist Mega List

Yawning, your locker slams shut. You jump at the sudden action, drowsiness present in your form. He towered over you. Looking down at you as if you’re a lesser being than him. You stared back at him. Silently having a staring contest until you gave in. Yawning once again, you lean against the locker. “Yes?” You grip onto your books as they slowly slip out of your hands. He only looks you up and down. Hitting your books with little effort nearly knocking them out your hand and poking you with minimal force. “I’m tired. I was up all night.” You rub your watery eyes. He walked away from you. Maybe onto his next class but it was beyond you as the bell rang to continue your tiring school day.

You sat in your usual choice of seats. In the back, you’ve been doing this since the first few weeks of school. The words coming out of the teachers mouth was equivalent to gibberish. You didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand. Sleep was taking over your body as your head met the comfortable school desk. And just like that you were back into dream world. How you ended up sleeping in class was an interesting reason. To think it’d be because of studying or something like that but no. It was because of dumb, never gonna happen fantasies. And with the last person you thought would be in your head in this type of way. How in the world did this happen? Funny story...

“You’re telling me. You have no feelings whatsoever. If he’s not sexually harassing you, they say it’s a sign he likes you.” You roll your eyes at her ridiculous accusations. In your mind, the day he likes you is the day pigs fly. “Mhm. That’s exactly what I’m telling you. He doesn’t utter a word to me. What makes you think he likes me.” You chuckle, hearing how crazy it sounds coming from your mouth. This goes on for days and days on end. Until you’re up at night, thinking if he really does like you. Making scenes and scenarios in your head about confessions, dates and other things.

And most unexpectedly fantasies about his voice, if it would be deep and smooth or high and premature. It really stumped you. You heard rumors around the school about how his voice is deep and gravely like concrete. Whatever that means, but then again it’s just rumors. Could be true, could be false but only the one the rumor is about will know. On the flip side, his “friends” were noticing his actions towards you as well. It was sudden nonetheless but it was frequently that they would see him around you. He had one true friend. One he knew since the crayon stage.

He’s the only one that he got comfortable enough around to speak and use his voice. Why is this? He was insecure about his voice. It wasn’t bad or anything but he thought it was super deep, so one day after puberty hit him he decided to stop talking and only talk around those he’s comfortable around. He wanted you to be one of those people. Oh, how it would overjoy him for you to be one of those people. He could talk for hours and hours on end if he had the right person. And in the back of his mind, you were his right person. Corny? Yes and he knew this so he kept to himself. Keeping it well hidden at that.

The girls that hung around his “friends” hung around him too and he disliked it. These wasn’t his kind of people, they were cool and whatever but not his type of crowd. They started to pick at you while he turned a blind eye. Saying small remarks like “such a pick me girl” and “she came outside wearing that?” It was subtle at first but became more and more obvious. Even though he wouldn’t talk, his body language spoke volumes. With a stare he stopped them from picking at you but it only stopped momentarily. Given they saw how it riled him up and they thought it was hot in a way. Very weird I know.

“Y/n.” What’s that noise? You thought. “Y/n L/n!” A pair of hands slam on your desk causing you to jump up. They could visibly see the tiredness in your face. “Y/n, go to I.S.S.” They demand. The class inserts cartoon like noises, while you pack up your belongs and make your way to the classroom. You huff as you close the door to your classroom. Sleepily walking to the I.S.S. classroom which is turning into a jog as the hall monitor cracks down on you. They follow you to I.S.S. and close the door behind you. You look at the basically empty classroom with barely anyone in it.

Sitting down at one of the back desks, you take out a notebook and doodle. A few minutes pass by and a piece of paper slides its way onto your desk. You didn’t see where it came from so you opened it. “how’d a goodie two shoes end up in here?” You lip sync to yourself, now knowing who its from. There lay, the way too familiar bookbag. You sigh and crumple the paper in your hand, putting it in your backpack. Now going back to your doodling activities. This time a paper ball hit your head and landed in front of you. “stop crumpling up my note, idoit.” You roll your eyes and write under his words.

“you spelled that wrong and I’ll keep crumpling it up if I want to.” You throw it into his lap. He sat at the desk, in front of you to the left. “I know I did, you autocorrect junkie. did you break a pencil or better yet fold a paper wrong.” He was messing with you. “shut up and stop throwing this back, you’re gonna get me in trouble.” You finally go back to your doodling. You feel a minor yet hard kick in your leg. You jerk up ready to place your fury upon the poor soul. He puts his hand up for you to stop then points to the teacher, she was pregnant and out cold. He throws the paper at your chest and turns back.

Frustratingly, you open and read it. “she’s not even paying attention. and you have nothing better to do.” The temptation to crumple this paper is unbearable. “LEAVE ME ALONE!!” You throw the paper at his head, turning your body to the right and continue your doodling. Now in peace, you realize what you’re doodling. It was a mini comic about confessing. Alertly looking around, you rip out the page and shove it into your bookbag. ‘I hope no one saw that.’ You breath out at the thought. You felt little hits at your head, again and again and again. It was slowly getting to you.

‘can’t this be over already.’ You bury your head into your arms. A soft tap is placed upon your right shoulder. Lifting up your head, an unbothered female rests the note on your desk. You’ve seen her before around the school, she was pretty antisocial as far as you knew. “Those group of girls in the front are staring at you.” At the last word, you lift up the note a bit to get the girls in your eye range. Placing the note on your desk, you reply. “nice to know...you wouldn’t happen to know why. would you?” You drop it on her desk. He stopped throwing paper at you.

Unfolding her note. “because of your friend. watch out for them, they’re not so...friendly.” You glance at the women again, this time they notice you. “he’s not my friend. but thanks for the heads up. I’m y/n. what’s your name? I’ve seen you around before.” As you pass her the note, he gently places a note on your desk. “This is alot of note passing.” You mutter to yourself. “look at the door, stupid.” Rolling your eyes, you look and see your best friend. A smile creeps it’s way onto your face. “What are you doing?” You lip sync to her. “Class is over come on it’s lunch.” She motions you to come out.

Shaking your head, you receive the note from the girl. “Vera.” You put the note in your pocket and look back to your best friend having a silent squabble with him. You motion for her to stop. The sound of the bell echoes in the class, awaking the teacher. Looking to the ground, a puddle of papers engulf your feet. Thinking fast, you move your backpack closer to the papers and shove them all in your bag. “Ok. I don’t feel like filling in a report so this time, I’ll cut you all lose. Out.” She motions to the door and she didn’t have to tell you twice. You dashed to the door, almost knocking your best friend out.

Taking her wrist, you pull her to the cafeteria. Sitting her outside at your usual table, she sighs. “He’s annoying....” You slowly nod to her observation. “Just right for you.” She adds to her unfinished statement with a devilish smile. You slap your hand to your forehead and shake your head. She chuckles, leaving to get lunch for you and her. You pull out the papers from your bag. All were blank except for one.

“This note is for the Idiot who finds it. You Lack In the brain department. Just so you Know. It Even hurts mY brain to talk tO yoU. Even though I don’t talk.”

This note made no since what so ever, some letters were written over as if he made a mistake. You put the confusing note in your pocket for later. Feeling the breeze, you close your eyes and relax. “What do you want with Arthur?” A girl in close contact, spits with a noticeable cruel attitude. You open your eyes and they land on the same girls that were in I.S.S. They stare at you intensely. Causing you to answer. “Nothing.” You awkwardly say, playing with a piece of paper. She snatches the piece of paper from you. “Like hell! You’re ugly. He doesn’t like you and would never like you.”

They encourage her hateful words. “Honestly, she’s the bottom of the barrel.” They begin to cackle at the ‘not so insulting’ insult. It was insulting but not so much for you to go crying to your mommy. Taking their leave. “And him being with you would be the top of the barrel. Wouldn’t it?” A snarky remark leaving your mouth, loud enough for them to hear. “What did you just say?” She turns her head, doll like. Reminding you of Annabelle. “I said, And him being with you would be the top of the barrel. Wouldn’t it?” You repeat yourself but speak slower so it can sink in.

“Can we help you?” Quinn says, placing the food on the table and standing by you with her knee on the seat. “Listen here, skank. He doesn’t want you.” You roll your eyes at her. “Yeah, I can tell. I’m not interested in him. You can knock yourself out. Metaphorically.” You sigh and take a water from the tray. She gets visibly more frustrated and mad at your unbothered state. Scoffing loudly, she leaves you alone. Glancing at the surroundings, people were gathering around you. They soon realized it was just a disagreement and go back to their business. Quinn was very surprised at how you handled the situation.

Surprised that you even responded to her. “I’ll beat her up.” You chuckle at your best friend. “Words can’t hurt me.” You breathy huff and lean your head in your palm. Secretly staring at her approaching him, smothering him. ‘He looks so uncomfortable.’ You stop staring at her and look at him. He catches your eye and you revert your eyes back to Quinn. She was staring at you the whole time. “I’m not interested in him, she says.” She mocks you, even adding her own commentary. The end of the day came pretty quickly. The halls were practically empty as you went to your locker for the rest of your stuff.

“I just had to get held back by that teacher. Wasn’t I.S.S enough for them?” You say to yourself as you put your stuff in your backpack. The click of your lock, set about some rapid footsteps coming towards you. You looked and two people grabbed you by the arms. “Let go of me!” You yelled in her face. She laughs wickedly as you get dragged into the bathroom. They striped you of your bookbag and threw you into the stall doors. Your back hit harder than it sounded. As they started to beat you up, you reached into your pocket and pull out your taser, tasing someone in the ankle.

They dropped down to the ground and this was your chance. Hurriedly crawling to the bathroom door, you push it open. At that moment, you got away. A tight grip is placed upon your ankles with all your might you hold onto the door frame and scream to the top of your lungs. All the while, one of them were pulling your ankles with all their might. Your hands gave in as soon as another pair of palms gripped onto your ankles. Your screams echoed from the bathroom for a moment until an inhuman slam came across the door. Silence filled the restroom, you laid on the floor bruised up and lightly bloody as they stopped their movements to the new person.

Hearing yelps of surprise, soon enough you were being lift up bridal style in strong arms. Your left eye refusing to open, you stared at him with your right. A heavy sigh of relief, left your lips as you leaned into him a little closer than before. The far too familiar sound of cheap paper crumping fills your ears as he sets you down on the nurses table. The nurse wasn’t there but the door was unlocked. He got some band-aids and alcohol. Sitting on a chair next to the table, he patched you up best he could. You avoided eye contact with him at all costs. “This is awkward.” His voice shook you to your core. Though you were already shaking from the recent events.

“y-yeah.” Voice low and sore from screaming. He finished, putting all the stuff back, placing a ice pack to a huge bruise on your leg and giving you another for your eye. You stayed quiet for the most part, but you reached into your pocket and held out the crumbled note to him. He looked to you and took it. Leaving the ice pack on your leg, he unfolded it and immediately saw your writing on the bottom. “I like you too.” He lip synced your neatly written words. Shoving the note into his pocket, he gazed into your eyes with hopefulness. “can we leave?” You state, feeling like someone is watching you. He offered you a ride home which you gladly took, having already missed the public bus.

You both talked the whole ride. Getting used to his voice. He took you to get some food. Throughout the ride, you both established that you’ll keep this relationship on the down low. Arriving at your home, you invited him in but he politely declined. “I’ll see you in the morning?” You leaned in the window and nodded with a smile. “Bye.” You flash one last smile before turning and walking to your front door. Putting in the passcode and entering the house. Walking into the kitchen you but your fast food bag on the island and took a sip of your drink as you dialed a frequent number. “Quinn. You will not believe what just happened.”

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nomstellations · 3 years

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Tricks and Treats

Your phone chimes as you reach your destination, and you look up from the GPS to the building before you. Spellbound Delights...it was a bakery that had just opened here, advertising pastries and treats imbued with magic. It was run by a supposed "cake witch," and you were curious about that. You've never heard of that kind of witch, did they just...conjure cakes? Were conjured cakes just as real as authentically baked ones? Curious and craving sweets, you came to find an answer. Today was its grand opening, and you came early to be the first to check it out. There wasn't anyone else here but you thankfully, and you stepped inside the bakery.

You were immediately greeted by the sweet smell of pastries and tarts, the display case was full of freshly made treats and there was even a platter set out of things to try. Some of them glittered, others constantly shifted their colors...these must be the magical ones, wonder what they do? There didn't seem to be anyone behind the counter, but you could hear someone's singing coming from the back of the bakery. However lovely their voice was you wanted a snack, so you called out to them. The singing stops, and the sound of heels clicking against the floor rapidly approaches you. A surprisingly tall woman now stands before you, her smile bright.

"Well hi there, sugar! I wasn't expecting to get a customer so early! Couldn't resist the allure of my treats, hmm~?" You take in her features rather than replying, as the first thing you noticed that her hair was made of frosting. Thick white curls fell to the side of her face and down her back, smelling of sweet cream cheese. She was wearing a frilly apron over an equally frilly red dress that went down to her knees, and she sported a red hat with white highlights and a large dollop of frosting on it. She really seemed to take the cake theme seriously, but it seemed like every part of her was made of the stuff. Noting how you stared, she gave you a patient smile and leaned against the counter. "Heehee, curious? My name's Chiffon, and I'm the only cake witch of my kind! I pioneered the field, in fact! Studying the magic permanently changed my body into cake...so why not open a bakery? I want my hard work to change lives for the better~" Her whole body was cake? Now that changed a few things. You tell her that you were interested in some of her goods made with magic, and you want to know what some of them are and what they do. Lighting up like a christmas tree, the witch sits up straight with a smile. "Of course! See, these turnovers here can grant you good luck for the whole day, and those blueberry scones can give you a confidence boost….these here are just regular apple fritters, but they're absolutely delectable!" As Chiffon rambles on about cakes that can cure curses and pies that can grant flight, you eye her with a hungry stare. You occasionally had some more…predatory inclinations, and while you had come here for a sweet snack there was something far sweeter and more filling right in front of you. The biggest cake of all was right here, why not enjoy it? You just need to take the chance….

Interrupting her ramble, you tell Chiffon that you're looking to...taste some of her goods before buying any. She gestures proudly to a tray of snacks she set out, presumably for customers to try. "Sure thing, honeybun~ Might I recommend the petit fours? They're small, but flavorful!" You had no intention of actually buying anything now that you had your eyes on the prize, but you might as well play along and make your move while she was distracted. You pick up one of the little cakes, admiring the cute star candy it was decorated with before taking a bite. It tasted sweet and had strawberry frosting inside, and you hummed in delight at its flavor. At the very least it tasted great, and a warmth started to flow through you. Maybe this cake was magic? It probably did something cute, like make it so you'd be happy all day...you would be when you got a taste of Chiffon, that's for sure. However…. When did the bakery get a bit bigger? Or rather, when did you get a bit smaller? Chiffon's heels clicking against the floor got your attention, and you looked to see her towering over you. She has a small but somewhat smug grin, and she leans down to your level.

"Maybe you should've asked more about those, sweetie~ The "petit" part is rather literal! You didn't get as small as I thought, though...guess you have a bit of magic resistance in you! Oh well, you're even cuter like this...like a little teddy bear!" You're very confused, but before you can ask her hands wrap around your waist and lift you up much like a cat. She brings you up to her face, her smile growing wider. Your befuddled expression earns a chuckle out of her, and her grip gets a bit tighter. "I saw the looks you were giving me...it wasn't the snacks in the case you wanted, was it? Sorry sugar, but I'm never on the menu~" You pale a bit, she knew? You were in trouble now. "You know...you look cute enough to eat right now~ Guess you're learning the hard way that this snack bites back, huh?" She lifts you up above her head, and you start wriggling around as you realize her plans. "Come now, you'll be just fine! I only hope that you won't be too rattled after this...I'd like it if you came by again sometime, hehe~" Come back? She was going to eat you! You wriggle but she waves her free hand, and you find your movements slowing down and becoming sluggish. "Settle down, you'll be just fine~ Haven't you always wanted to lay on some soft cake? Well, you'll be laying in it soon!" Without wasting any more time she opens her mouth, lowering you inside. Her tongue comes up and grazes your legs and you shudder a bit, regretting wearing shorts out today. You were far too big for her to eat in one go, so she opted to take her time as she steadily lowered you in farther. A deep slow gulp marks the start of your descent, and you find that even if you had the strength to wiggle you couldn’t. The cakey muscles of her throat were tight, and her saliva seemed to be...sticky? Was it some kind of glaze? Whatever it was it clung to you, and you slowly sunk into her mouth with each swallow. Chiffon hummed and you could feel the vibrations around you, supposedly she liked the way you tasted. You were pulled into her throat without much incident, now slowly sliding down towards her stomach. Interestingly enough you could hear the sounds of her body working, seems like everything still worked even after being turned into living food. While her biology did interest you, you didn’t want a look this close! Peristalsis seemed to be doing its job rather well despite your sticky situation, and after a few moments it pushed you into a somewhat more spacious chamber. The walls were slick much like a real stomach’s, but they were so much more softer. You landed in a pool of glaze, similar to the kind you’d put on donuts. Was this her equivalent of stomach acids…? It felt warm in here, like a freshly baked cake, and the walls closed in with a delighted growl to rub against you and check you out. The witch herself sighed happily from above, giving the bump you made in her middle a gentle rub. The way her dress puffed out should cover you nicely, though you filled her up pretty well...she’ll manage with a bit of extra weight, today was the grand opening of her bakery after all! “So~ How do you like feeling that that cake felt? You’d have to try a lot harder than that to get your hands on me, cutie~” She chuckled, and you found your face flushing a bit in embarrassment. “Not to worry, though….you’ll be safe. I’ll just have to hold onto you for a while for trying to ruin my opening day! I promise to get you cleaned up when you’re out, I’m not cruel. Enjoy your ride!” She started to move, and your world rocked gently back and forth. It smelled really sweet in here, and the warmth was honestly nice...she wasn’t being malicious, so you didn’t feel as tense as you used to. Maybe you could just mellow out and relax in here, with the consistent movement of her stomach allowing you to relax. You wondered however, if there was any kind of magic that could safely get all this glaze out of your hair and clothes...

#soft vore #safe vore #extreme cuddling #gt vore #quarter size vore #vore fic #female pred #reader insert #Chiffon #unwilling vore #but mild tbh #wahoo! role reversal #you never see food people as preds so i wanted to change that #plus i want more experience w female preds #so say hi to chiffon!

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that-was-anticlimactic · 4 years

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Sokka with Tourette’s Headacanons Part Two

that no one asked for but here they are because I wanted to write more

Part One here and links to all of my other TS headcanons and such at the end!

*rubs hands together*

let’s start with premonitory urge and Sokka’s experience with it!

for those who don’t know, premonitory urges are essentially sensory tics. It’s when you feel a sensation or a discomfort in your body where you want to-- no, need to do something for touch something. For example, it can be as simple as this feeling in my body and head that I need to rub my phone screen a certain way. If I don’t rub it, the uncomfortable feeling will linger and make me anxious or extra fidgety. They can also increase tics.

Now, in Sokka’s life with TS, he has had... some problems with premonitory urge. When he was younger and training to be a warrior, there were multiple occasions where he almost sliced his fingers off because he kept getting this physical feeling that he had to touch the swords or spears etc... a certain way.

When he gets older, he finds that they start to bother him during council meetings in the Fire Nation, especially when Zuko is doing important stuff so he has to sit far away.

They’ll be in the middle of an important meeting when Sokka looks up from his doodling to glance at Zuko and this tingling, gravitational feeling suddenly moves through his body and he can’t stop staring at the edge of Zuko’s chair and he knows that he needs to rub it.

Obviously, he can’t just get up in the middle of the meeting, walk over to the Fire Lord, and rub his chair (even though they are dating and Zuko would definitely let him)

I have had experiences like this during class where I would mentally shut down or have to calm myself down from an anxiety attack because I need to rub the white board my teacher is writing on or the teacher’s desk but we are literally in the middle of class so I can’t do that (doesn’t always end like that, but that’s worse case scenario). And it sucks. So much. So, Sokka is miserable.

One time Sokka was so focused on not having an anxiety attack because his body was telling him that he needed to rub the surface of a Fire Nation elder’s desk-thingy that’s in front of his chair (because sometimes his body hates him and it happens to people he doesn’t know that well’s stuff) that he mentally shut down. He ended up squatting in his chair, rocking back and forth for ten minutes after the meeting ended without realizing it because all he could think was don’t interrupt the meeting, don’t be weird, don’t embarrass Zuko

Zuko, being the fantastic boyfriend he is, noticed that Sokka didn’t leave the meeting and thought it looked like an anxiety attack. He kind of just sat with him. He didn’t touch him because he knew Sokka wouldn’t want it and wouldn’t be able to coherently answer if he asked to touch him. Zuko just started talking about random things to try to get his mind off of the feeling.

Once he got back into the moment (with help from Zuko’s dulcet voice), he ran to the desk-thingy and rubbed it. Like, almost dramatically ran his hand across the desk and kind of just let his hand take over and rub whatever part he needed to.

Zuko was confused because this had never happened before (well, it had, but not to this extreme in front of him and Sokka never said anything) so Zuko never knew).

Sokka was kind of embarrassed, but he told Zuko about it and together they came up with a signal for when it got really bad so Zuko could either call a five minute break or make an excuse to switch seats so he could sit next to his boyfriend.

This is another reason that Zuko keeps random things on him at all times so if it gets bad, Sokka will have more to do with his hands than draw, write sentences over and over again, take notes, and tap.

Actually, lowkey stealing this particular headcanon from @tikmasjiens and their story For When He’s Being a Dumb*ss (which I highly suggest reading-- it’s fantastic!): Katara and Zuko (for the purposes of later in life when they’re dating because of course imma make it Zukka) carry little fidget kits / bags around for Sokka because he is forgetful and is sometimes so focused on one particular thing that he starts to run late for a meeting or lunch or hang out that he forgets his own personal fidget things.

The amazing Katara and Zuko have random things: brushes, atla equivalent at paper clips (aka metal things he can bend) (yes, yes, we’ve been hiding this from the world, but people with Tourette’s are actually paper clip benders lol), dice, Pai Sho tiles, and other little trinkets.

One time when Sokka was walking around an Earth Kingdom market out of boredom (and this is after the war because I just want him to not be on edge during this), he sees this young girl making noises and movements similar to him and he sees these two other kids mocking her and laughing at her and Sokka just sees red.

He actually goes over and scolds the kids (who don’t care enough to stay and listen ugh but that’s not the main focus of Sokka’s concern so it’s whatever for now) and this young girl sees him (at around age 17-18) making noises and moving ‘weirdly’ too and she’s just like “I’ve never seen anyone else do that stuff before”

and Sokka kind of just sits down with her and talks to her about his own experience and it’s not anything to be ashamed of, even though it can feel like that sometimes.

he rummages through his pockets and pulls out some of his fidget stuff and gives it to her. He, Zuko, and Katara have plenty of fidget stuff for him. Losing a few won’t matter.

Eventually, her parents return and they part ways. They never see each other again, but they never forgot each other either. It was both of their first time seeing someone else like them.

(and personal anecdote, but one time I was faculty at a camp for the weekend, and one of the kids in my group had just gotten diagnosed with Tourette’s and that was one of the most meaningful experiences I have ever had. I got to talk to him and his mom about my experience and it was... I’ll never forget that)

Sokka may be the protective older brother, but Katara is also the terrifying ‘you hurt my brother I will ruin you’ younger sister. One time, someone mocked Sokka’s tics and Katara’s protective instincts kicked in and she lectured them so hard. and very loudly. so everyone heard.

again, y’all, I know this is about Sokka with TS but WOW I love Katara too, what a queen. Let’s take a moment and appreciate the queen that she is.

Ty Lee and Sokka do yoga together at least twice a week. They both find it relaxing and fun and nice, but it also helps Sokka begin the day with less stress in his body. It doesn’t cure his TS, because there is no cure and he needs no cure, but it definitely helps sometimes.

Something that absolutely kills Sokka is that he wants to cuddle with Zuko at night so badly, but sometimes he genuinely just can’t. Zuko’s arms around him will make him feel too trapped and restrained, his arms around Zuko make him paranoid that if he moves too much, he’ll make Zuko uncomfortable and just stressed himself out by only being able to think about “am I moving too much?” “can Zuko feel me move?” “stay still stay still stay still” and it’s just not fun and he gets tense

But sometimes, he can cuddle and he loves it! Because as much as he hates being held, he desperately longs to be held. As self-conscious as he gets when he holds Zuko, he wants to be able to hold Zuko.

So when he feels like he can cuddle with Zuko, he gets so excited!

Zuko swears up and down that the lack of cuddling on occasion does not bother him, but Sokka still has trouble believing him (not that he doesn’t trust him, but he can’t understand how someone would be okay with it)

One time, Sokka was so distressed about whether or not Zuko was upset with him or pretending not to be upset to spare his feelings that Zuko invited Toph over so she could inform Sokka that he was, in fact, telling the truth about it being okay that they can’t always cuddle and be physically affectionate.

Sokka’s verbal tics both annoy him and don’t annoy him. He’s so used to hearing them that they don’t bother him anymore, but sometimes they make it hard for him to talk and he can feel them and that’s what bothers him.

He’s also self-conscious that everyone hates his verbal tics and are annoyed by them.

On a really bad head day for Sokka, the gaang was going to see a theatrical show per Zuko’s request and it was the first time in months they had all been able to hang out together and Sokka wasn’t having a good tic day and was so genuinely afraid to go to the show because he was going to tic and make noises and what if he distracted everyone? what if the strangers in the audience got mad at him? what if the ushers forced him to leave? how embarrassing would that be?

so he pretended to be sick and didn’t go

but Toph saw through his crap and stayed behind as well because “you’ve heard a play once, you’ve heard it a thousand times” and when everyone leaves, she calls Sokka out and asks him what was up

and he knew he couldn’t get away with lying to Toph, so he told her the truth and she just kind of laughed and went “they don’t bother any of us, seriously”

and Sokka was just “how do you know? It’s not like how much my tics don’t annoy you come up naturally in conversation”

and Toph goes “I don’t need to talk to them about it to know that no one’s bothered by them. Besides, they care about you more than they care about what sounds you make” then punched his arm

(and if Sokka silently cried, no one needed to know)

so, overtime, he gets the nerve to ask everyone individually (because there’s no way he could do everyone at once) just to make sure he wasn’t bothering them. He doesn’t get to ask everyone because some of them kind of get a feeling that he’s anxious about it (and if Zuko maybe mentioned it to some people so they approached him and causally mentioned they weren’t bothered, no one needs to know oops) (don’t worry, Zuko didn’t say anything super personal. Just like “tell Sokka his tics don’t bother you because he thinks they do”. Not like the details and stuff Sokka told him in private)

Katara didn’t answer, just asked if she could hug him and said that she loved him no matter what (and ten minutes later asked him if anyone told him that because if someone in the gaang said it, then she wouldn’t be afraid to spill blood)

Zuko, ever the dramatic and romantic one, knelt in front of Sokka (who was sitting) and went “I love you. I love every single part of you.” *kisses his hands* “I love you for your finger clenching and fist pumping.” *kisses his shoulders* “I love you for your shoulder rolling...” *kisses his neck* “your neck twitches...” *kisses his nose* “your nose scrunching...” *gently kisses each eye* “your blinking...” *kisses his lips* “and for every verbal and motor tic you’ve ever had and ever will have”

(look, I’m just... I’m so soft for that moment and I think about it constantly)

Suki gives him this hard and serious look and says “you are not annoying. You never have been and you never will be” and from just her stare and tone of voice, he knows she’s telling the truth.

Aang immediately just starts rambling and is like “I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel that way but you as so far from annoying! Honestly, sometimes I forget they’re even there I’m just so used to them-- not that they’re forgetful or anything, but they’re just so normal to me that I don’t notice-- why are you crying? Did I say that wrong? I’m sorry--”

and Sokka just grabs him and hugs him and says “No. I love you. Thank you.”

Mai is bad at emoting but she tells him “I don’t mind them. They’re comforting. Sometimes. Better than the sound of an empty house or screaming.”

Ty Lee immediately goes into “who told you you were annoying? I have some new moved I’d like to try. Give me names and they’re test subjects number one” and even Sokka feels fear at the look on her face even though the anger isn’t directed towards him

Azula is kind of snarky at first (because she’s trying not to, but it’s hard and it’s not her fault). She just gives him this seriously? look and kind of goes “you really think they’re significant enough to bother me?” and Sokka knows that’s Azula’s healing way of saying “no, they don’t bother me”

okay but let’s also talk about Hakoda and Piandao and Iroh because I want to and I love them

Hakoda kind of does what Katara does and asks if he can hug him and just tells him how proud he is of Sokka for the man that he’s become and that his TS is a part of who he is and it’s a part of his identity and there’s nothing his TS could ever do to make him any less proud

Piandao actually talked to Sokka about it during Sokka’s Master because it was holding him back of bit. Sokka was kind of embarrassed and was getting frustrated with it. Piandao sat him down and told him that perceived weaknesses are actually one of our greatest strengths. Being a nonbender looks like a weakness to many benders who rely solely on their bending, but it takes a certain kind of person to be a nonbender and that’s something to be proud of. The things that make you different are sometimes the things that teach you how special you are.

Piandao just sees so much potential and good in Sokka and Sokka looks up to him so much.

Iroh always lends Sokka extra or old Pai Sho tiles to fidget with. He also has this relaxing tea that helps his mind feel calm. Again, not with the intent to “fix” or “cure” him, but it helps his anxiety levels go down, in turn helping his tics relax.

Iroh tells Sokka that his tics are nothing to be ashamed of and that true friends would stick with him, tics or no tics.

hey? hey? guess what? Bumi ll didn’t just inherent the nonbending from Sokka, he also got the Tourette’s genes:)

imagine the Uncle / Nephew bonding between them

like, Bumi ll asks him why Kya and Tenzin don’t do weird things but he does? and Sokka just smiles sadly because he knows the feeling and talks to him about Tourette’s.

Bumi ll also got lucky because Katara saw the signs instantly and got him tested as soon as she could.

Let’s just say, aside from the gaang, the Kataang family is the most supportive family of his TS:) (it doesn’t hurt that his aunts and uncles will hung down anyone who ever makes him feel like trash and lecture them or their parents oops)

this is something I have mentioned before, but Sokka struggles to sit through meetings. Having TS and ADHD make it so hard for him.

sometimes he just feels so out of place because in this room full of people, he’s the only one rocking back and forth in his chair and changing his position every three seconds and jerking his head. He just feels... so wrong when he sees how still everyone else is sitting. Yeah, occasionally he’ll see some people tapping their foot or tapping the table in front of them with their fingers, but it’s not the same.

BUT on a happy note and not to make this all depressing (because TS sucks sometimes, but there’s nothing wrong with it or us and it’s a part of who we are) Sokka 100% has a top ten list of his favorite and least favorite tics of all time (I don’t know if people keep track of their favorites or if that’s just something I like to do, but I would imagine that a decent amount of people with TS know their favorites and least favorites)

I won’t bore y’all with an actual list, but his favorite tic is rocking back and forth. The motion is so soothing and comforting to him. Like, it feels right to be rocking. Yeah, sometimes he gets self-conscious about it, especially if he��s the only one in the room moving, but it feels so nice and right.

Sokka: *tics a couple times in a row* ughhhh that was not fun

Toph: *jokingly* wow, I mean, can’t you just, I don’t know, stop? Just, not do it?

Sokka: *jokingly* great idea, Toph! Why didn’t I think of that? All I needed to do all along was just not want to tic!

Toph is the only one ever allowed to do this bit with him. Sokka thinks it’s the funniest thing and it never fails to make laugh

Toph said that out of sarcastic instinct one time and almost choked on her drink because she felt so bad but Sokka was stifling a laugh and replied super sarcastically and then just laughed.

Toph still felt really bad and apologized (Sokka told her it was fine and he wasn’t upset, but she’s also been on the other side of jokes like that and it’s not fun).

Now, though, it’s kind of their thing. They do it every once in awhile and it flows like any other banter. It just happens and they don’t even blink.

(if anyone else did that to Sokka, though, Toph would probably rob them or like soak their clothes in cactus juice so they’re all sticky idk, she just wouldn’t stand for it)

Sokka actually takes a leave of absence from being an ambassador to travel around the four nations and visit schools with Toph and Zuko (who also take breaks). The three of them go to educate schools on disabilities (their own and others).

Sokka also personally makes it his mission to sit in one class at every school and see if there’s anything that he can give advice on. Sometimes, he talks to principals and teachers about how to help accommodate students with learning or “disruptive” disabilities so that they can get the best education that they can while still feeling comfortable and safe.

Now, the three don’t get this all done at once, it takes a year or two, but they do it and all three are just... really proud of it.

Sokka really struggles with Locus of Control (LOC). For those who don’t know, LOC is “ a psychological concept that refers to how strongly people believe they have control over the situations and experiences that affect their lives” (Ed.glossary.org).

Sokka, as many headcanon, likes having control over situations or likes having things ordered and scheduled. He doesn’t like changes to his schedule, he likes having schedules... his tics, on the other hand, are not something he can control or schedule

Giving up that control is hard for him. It wasn’t too bad as a child in a super small village, but once he left the SWT with Aang and Katara, he realized how different having tics was (although he was the only one back at home with tics, he often worked with restless children)

He went through a period of time where he thought that he could control his tics, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t. Thus, the loss of control he feels.

He actually went through a ‘phase’ once where he thought that maybe he was making his tics up and doing them on purpose for attention or to be different or something. Katara quickly shut him down and told him that he wasn’t doing that.

I once saw someone say that Sokka has imposter syndrome and I think it correlates a bit with LOC in this context (I should actually do some research about that...).

Learning to understand that he won’t always have control is hard for him. Like. Really hard. He tried so desperately to control his tics and it just increased his anxiety and wore him out. Trying to control tics freaking hurts.

Aang is actually the one to help him with that. He’s had a lot of experience of not being able to control his own life, and although their situations are different, he has methods he uses to attempt to prevent himself from overthinking too much and letting his anxiety take control.

After that, Sokka doesn’t struggle with LOC as badly as he did before. It still sneaks in time after time, but it’s never too prominent and Aang is always there with some advice and distractions:)

(I just also love Aang so much and he deserves the world)

Although Sokka is “weird” with touch, there is one type of touch he is almost always on board with: massages. Massages. I’ll say it one more time: massages. They feel so nice. He carries so much stress in his back and shoulders because of how much he moves them due to his tics.

Zuko can tell when Sokka’s shoulders and back start to hurt really badly and will just sit behind him, heat his hands up (not too much), and give him the absolute best massages.

No. Seriously. Zuko gives the best massages (Sokka once wanted to return the favour and uhhh.... Zuko was not a fan. Although Friends isn’t the best show to take examples from, but uhh Sokka gives massages like Monica Gellar. That is all. Zuko gets his massages from Ty Lee).

Suki gives the second best massages.

Katara third.

So, there’s this one Kyoshi Warrior that works with Suki on guard that Sokka just can’t crack. She has an RBF and rolls her eyes and stuff a lot and she uhhh is kind of rather facially expressive but like, RBF style, so one time when Sokka is having a bad tic day, she makes a face.

It wasn’t aimed towards him, it was about something else, but his heart just breaks because this girl he had been trying to get to open up a bit to him and let loose and not be so freaking serious all of the time hates him.

and later she approached him and just “Sorry. I don’t... I don’t get annoyed by your tics or you or anything. I find them soothing and, I don’t know, nice. Like a reminder that the Fire Lord’s boyfriend is still safe. And they sound nice. I don’t hate them. Or. You.” (look, feelings are hard for her)

and Sokka just :D

alrighty, this is longer than I intended... so we’ll end with me mentioning something I mentioned last time: Yue! (I love her). She never once brings up Sokka’s tics. She never makes faces or asks him why he makes sounds. She’s studied a lot, and while there isn’t too much out there about TS, it’s the NWT, they have lots of books. She could see the signs and assumed.

Never once in the amount of time that they knew each other did she mention it. Sokka appreciated not having to explain himself. He felt safe and welcome there with Yue.

Thank you for reading, anyone who made it to the bottom! I enjoy talking about TS as well as my own experience with it. I love writing about Sokka with TS in particular. There isn’t a lot of TS rep out there, really only the one episode of South Park (don’t watch the show, but I watched the clips about Tourette’s education that the Tourette’s Association of America approved of. It was really heartfelt and lovely to watch and is also a good representation of coprolalia!) and the movie Front of the Class.

My ask box is always available for questions about TS, Sokka with TS, Jay (Ninjago) with TS, anyone’s personal TS headcanons or experience, or any underrepresented neurological disorder that you want to share!

List of TS Stuff Already Written: Part One here , Deeper Than Words (a oneshot I wrote on ao3 of Sokka with TS), a lovely Sokka with TS oneshot written by @tikmasjiens (sorry for tagging you twice ahhh) here , Stuck (a Sokka with TS excerpt from a fic I’m writing), NInjago Jay!TS Oneshot

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shoichee · 4 years

Note

omg cngrts on 100!!!! <3 u deserve it!!!! hii how are you??? ahaha hows genshin going for you?? also for ur milstone event, can i request kise ryota with prompt 19 or 20, i cant decide between the two, so ill leaave it to you!! <3 i hope youre doing well 💖💖💖💖

dhfiuseyghieaugh tysm ily reeeeee <33 been playing genshin nonstop to keep my sanity from my uni papers SEND HELP

Kise x Reader

19. “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Word Count: 2851

prompt list here

Note: we need more manga Kise, i repeat, we need more asshole Kise

»»—————　☼　—————««

How could this happen? How could he, the veteran of receiving female attention, be so careless?

He only saw you as an intrigue. A challenge. Perhaps a friend at the very most.

How did this happen?

Kise slightly grits his teeth before he quickly exhales, bringing his hand to rub out the tension in his neck. His mood had not gone unnoticed by his fans around him.

Ah, shit.

“Ryōta!” one called out, her tone dripped in saccharine. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you been pushing yourself lately?” another one chimes in.

“I can come with you to the infirmary… surely you’d have trouble!—”

“Move—I asked first!”

“H-hey! Quit being so snappy—!”

“Stop.”

He instinctively sends a glare at the mob out of irritation but then stops himself to quickly etch a sweet smile of his own for them. No matter how much he hears these words of concern, he hears nothing but empty wind. Hanging around girls was supposed to be a fun pastime. A challenge. Nowadays, his mind doesn’t bother to register any of their names, their faces. All their voices that come out of their mouth have become constantly replayed recaps; their chatters have become equivalent to those of flocking pigeons. “Don’t worry, everyone! Basketball practice has just been tough, is all. You’re all so kind to worry for my health, though! Thank you!”

Squeals rang throughout the courtyard as they hung onto his every word. Predictable.

As he firmly separates himself away from the group and leaves off with a cheerful facade, he quickly turns around to make a break with a brisk walk. Where to, exactly? He doesn’t know, but anywhere that didn’t have people around would be godsend.

His mind always returns back to you. You, who he thought would be the cure to his social life, just as Aomine and Kuroko were to his life of sports. You, who respected his personal space. You, whom he had meaningful conversations with during breaks sometimes. You, who he felt like he can drop his facades around recently and just entirely be himself.

As cruel as it was, he once challenged himself to make you fall for him. A sick, twisted game that would cure his boredom and give him something to look forward to other than practice. Something to keep him on his toes throughout the beginning of high school. You, who wasn’t honestly that special, other than the fact you treated him differently, unlike other people. Hell, even the adults are wrapped around his finger. What’s not making you fall head over heels for him? His curiosity continues to grow exponentially the more he spends time with you; never once did it get satiated.

Was it his ego that you bruised up? Was it his competitiveness kicking in at the thought of experiencing a type of “defeat?” Was it the unsaid uncertainty in his heart that is currently panicking of the thought of entering a whole new territory with new emotions and thoughts?

There is nothing special about you. You were only a challenge. There is nothing special about you. Once he figures you out, your game, you would just be like everyone els—

“Ow!”

“Ah, sorry! My bad, my bad! Are you alright? I’ve been a tad dizzy lately, here let me help you, oh…” As he rambles in a slight fluster, he immediately jumps back into his chivalrous side, immediately clasping a hand to help them up. Expecting to see another faceless individual, his eyes widened when his mind registered a pair of eyes staring inquisitively at him. Your eyes.

“Are you the same Ryōta I know?” you stifle a laugh. “Since when were you so quick to ever help me out without complaining my ear off?” When they say his first name, it has always sounded off, sickening even. He still could not comprehend why he, despite hating the sound of his first name rolling off of people’s tongues, insisted on you using his first name. Strangely, whenever you call him out so sincerely, he couldn’t help but always jerk back in genuine surprise at how… nice it felt.

He only let you use his first name to force a sense of closeness. This was only to accelerate the forming of a bond between the two of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing more than a challenge. Nothing more than an asset to accomplish it.

But every time he has had these thoughts lately, his heart spiked with painful palpitations.

How did this happen?

His swirling thoughts halt when he feels your hand against his forehead. “You said you were dizzy earlier, right?” you said worriedly. “You don’t seem sick… have you been eating properly?”

You were tippy-toeing to try to reach his height, one hand grasping his shoulder for support while the other was feeling his temperature. And oh, you were so close.

This was a game you were playing, too, right? You must’ve known this entanglement was all just a challenge and you wanted to play along for the fun of it, right? But these thoughts quickly cease as you separate yourself from him to give him the usual physical distance.

What sort of game were you playing? Tug-of-war? Cat-and-mouse chase? Two can play at that game.

“Hey…” he looms over your figure, leaning closer to your face. “Maybe you’re the one making me dizzy, after all?” His sharp eyes search for any subtle signs you give off: your facial expressions, body language, your reactions.

“What?” Your eyes widen at his abrupt advance, worried eyes quickly turning into one of confusion as you scan Kise’s face for any other subtle signs of his own.

There was no way you could have good intentions. There was no way you could have genuine concern for him. There was no way you would be hanging around with him, unless you had some ulterior motives of your own.

After all, he chose to get to know you for the most selfish reason. How could he ever bring himself to tell you that this precarious friendship you two shared was built on the premise of deceit on his end?

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Just wanted to see your reaction.” And with that, he ruffles your hair playfully before he continues to walk to his intended destination of the school infirmary.

“You’re definitely sick!” you call out, rushing to catch up to him. “You’re acting really strange!...” Your voice—he wishes he could tune it out just as easily as the rest, but you were right… he was acting strange. He couldn’t believe he can distinguish your features from amidst a sea of people. Your voice amidst a clutter of noises. Your warmth amidst all the sunlight, clothing, and body heat he’s ever felt. The same warmth encapsulating his own hand.

What sort of game were you playing?

“Here! Follow me,” you said, tugging his hand forward as you take the initiative to lead him. “If you’re sick, you shouldn’t be walking around alone. What if you collapse?”

What sort of game were you playing?... Was having the most scrunched-up brows and worried eyes part of the rules? He tightens his lips into a thin line at the sensation of his heartbeats again.

As you tug along his hand and lead him down the hallway, his mind drifts to the moments you two have shared for the past few weeks. When you bumped into him and succinctly apologized before excusing yourself… when he approached you constantly every chance he got during breaks to figure you out… when he saw you efficiently defending yourself against his dedicated fans… when you first approached him after he exited the lockers to congratulate him on a home game win before you turned to Kasamatsu to talk of club affairs with the council… when he first heard you actively cheering his name on the stands… when you inopportunely saw him weeping about Kaijo’s loss at the Winter Cup and successfully comforted him…

With each progression in his thoughts, his hand suddenly feels warmer against yours, his heart rate thumping faster, his eyes growing more out of focus as he gazes at your back, and then your intertwined hands. Maybe he really is sick.

“Are you alright?” you asked, turning to face him as you both keep walking. “We’re just about here.”

He says nothing as he keeps his face straight ahead. He doesn't trust himself to keep it together after that slipup with his fans; messing up in front of you would be certainly disastrous.

“Is there anyone here?” you softly called out, tentatively sliding the doors open. There was no one, but they were probably on a lunch break before coming back soon. He hears you sigh before you tug him in completely into the room. “Sit here, and I’ll look for some ice packs, at least… I don’t know if that would work, though…”

As you let go of his hand to try to rummage through the drawers, his hand instinctively holds you tighter.

Shit.

“Ryōta?...” you said. “Do you wanna lay down instead, I’ll look for something for you to—”

“... (y/n)-cchi, stay here.”

Shit. Kasamatsu was right: he needs to learn how to shut his godamn mouth.

“Ryōta,” you shyly mumble. “That was the first time you addressed me with -cchi at the end. Don’t you only use it with your old teammates?”

Shit… shit, shit, shit.

He can’t slip up, and he’s fucking up three times in a row? He’s losing his edge. There’s no way he’ll lose now… not when he’s come so far.

“... Do you know what you’re doing?” he exhales, dropping your hand to run his hands through his locks. “You’re driving me insane…”

“Me?”

“What games are you playing here, I swear to god—there’s no reason for you to care this much for me like this—”

“I do have a reason,” you replied, averting your eyes to feign looking for those ice packs. There you go again, acting coy… that’s what he chants to himself anyways.

“Wha?~ You’re keeping secrets from your friend, already?” he coos, trying to gain back the momentum. Yes, that’s right…you are only considered a friend. “It’s kind of cruel to bring it up but then decide to not divulge them, y’know?”

“It doesn’t take much human decency to worry and care for another,” you smile. “Even more so for a friend.”

You finally turn away to continue hunting for anything useful in the cabinets, while Kise silently watches you from his chair. Silence settles between the two of you.

“Y’know… I’ve been thinking,” you start, handing him a glass of water, a wet towel, and ice packs. “I don’t want for us… to be friends anymore.”

It took his entire self control to not jump from his chair to grab you and interrogate you into oblivion. But why? Did you realize his true intentions? Did you hate his guts after all? Did you accomplish your own objectives and deem this friendship no longer useful?

Why does he even care about any of this?

“You’re… joking, right?”

He really expected for you to burst into laughter and call it a prank or tease him about his unfiltered reaction at your words, but your eyes have now become determined and very serious.

You weren’t joking.

“Ryōta, I’ll just get this out of the way first things first, but I know that you only see me as some type of trophy to go after… for a while now.”

How did this happen?

“It’s just the way you look at me sometimes seems off,” you said. “It’s not obvious to others, but we’ve spent almost every day with each other for a while, so I’ve kinda noticed… Honestly, that only solidified my initial impressions of you being a complete asshole.”

Why does his heart feel like it’s going to shatter?

“But…” you continued. “Recently, you were just… different. You were still stupid, sure. But you’ve laughed so much more and supported me when I needed it most. I’ve never laughed this hard until I met you—you make me wheeze out the ugliest laughs, as I’m ashamed to admit. But I want to be able to support you too… like, it feels that this whole thing you’re trying to put up when you meet with other people… it must be exhausting, right? I know you first acted that way with me. I can understand and kind of relate to that, so you can always talk to me alone if you need an ear.”

“Why are you telling me that you don’t want to be friends anymore?” Kise flatly asks. “You’re clearly correct about everything about me. You could’ve just left a long while ago. Did you have to pretend to care, too? Go ahead, aren’t you going to gossip about this to everyone?”

“What? No! I’m not done talking yet, idiot! I wasn’t pretending anything! Can you just stop projecting yourself onto me and listen up? Even though you’re such an asshole sometimes, er—all the time, the time we spent together has grown to be genuine, and I know you felt it too!... so well, I know you’ve heard these words so many times from other people, but…

I like you. That’s why I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. But I know you don’t reciprocate these back, so I just wanna tell you to get it off my chest… that’s all.”

He is absolutely stunned.

You’ve confessed to him, didn’t you? He got what he wanted. He won his little challenge. But why doesn’t he feel the adrenaline, the excitement, of it all like he normally would? His heart beated painfully erratically like how his team suffered a bittersweet loss at the games. Especially when you turned away to leave after you gauged his silence as rejection.

“(y/n)-cchi! W-wait!” He fumbles to grab for the warmth of your hand again. “You just confessed, right? Don’t you have to hear what I say?”

You simply shrug in response, but nonetheless, you turned back around to face him and await his response.

What you didn’t expect though was for him to pull you into a tight embrace and put his head on your shoulder. He pours his innermost thoughts and his emotions out, your shoulder slightly muffling his words, but you still understand everything he had spilled. He finally apologizes for everything he’s done, reassuring you that you don’t have to forgive him, though you kept telling him that it wasn’t that big of a deal. He finally breaks away from you and hangs his head low and exhales. He finally lifts his head to make eye contact with you. His eyes burn with intensity and the usual confidence he bears, although you note the tinge of nervousness behind his pupils.

How did this happen? How did he ever grow so attached to you? And since when did he grow mature enough to concede his defeat?

“I think I’m in love with you…” His words trail off, and his confidence disintegrates away when he realizes that he is no longer the receiving end of a confession.

… and that scares… the crap out of me.”

“You think you’re in love with me?” You stare at him incredulously. Kise squirms uncomfortably under your scrutiny. He’ll admit it, it was the lamest reply anyone could’ve given. You honestly deserved better.

His thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly guffawed and slapped your hands to your mouth to try to stifle your hysteria.

“Hey! I spilled my entire heart to you, don’t just laugh… damnit, hey! It’s not that funny!...” he protests, but after unsuccessfully trying to get you to stop snickering, he sulks back into his chair and huffs with the reddest face.

“Ah… A+ for honesty, at least,” you breathed out. “I thought you were gonna be eloquent about this, since you’re used to this sorta stuff and all…”

“Shut it.”

Kise buries his head into his hands, but you gently pry them off in an attempt to see his embarrassed state.

“Were you really actually sick, though?~”

“Shut uuuup, alreadyyy.”

“I inherited this personality from you, y’know.”

Huh, it seems that you really do know how to be coy, after all.

“Can you two please see yourselves out? The infirmary is not a place to hold your secret rendezvous, especially with this inappropriate behavior.”

“(y/n)-cchi, run!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!”

In a hurry, Kise grabs hold of your hand and makes a break out the door, dragging you behind with the school nurse trailing far behind. Even if he suffered a loss once again, he still won the complete monopoly of you and your genuine care and warmth for him.

Was it really a loss, though? He doesn’t think much of it now that his head feels clear when he shares these moments with you.

He supposes he misjudged you when you were truly special after all. Déjà vu just hits him like a truck when he fondly thinks about his ex-mentor Kuroko, and how similar you are to him.

#knb #kuroko no basket #kise x reader #kise ryota #kise ryota x reader #kise ryouta #knb scenarios #knb fic #knb fics #100 followers #100 follower milestone

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flamboyant-king · 3 years

Text

— SHIP QUESTIONS (but I just filled them all out anyway)

Herb and Clover!

When I’m sad, I do ship memes to feel better. These are based on headcanons and AUs I have yet I hide. Sorry, I’m making yall see this, but I like sharing my ideas even when I can’t draw them hgjkdf (sorry mobile users i think)

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet? While Herb was still serving in the army, he was trying to give one of his troopmates first aid in a burning town. Clover appeared at the top of the cliff after exiting the forest. The burning town terrified him, he wanted to run back into the forest, but he knew whoever was down there needed help. So at the top of the cliff he let loose a healing melody, hoping it would help. The music overtook the sounds of chaos as the notes fell upon those suffering below. The wounds of the soldier slightly fade away from Herb’s troopmate’s side. The pain becoming bearable and the man calming down. Herb bandaged him up and someone else carried him to safety. Herb told them to go on without him as he looked up at the cliff. Wherever that music came from, he is grateful. But they first really met in Herb’s garden hehe

What was their first impression of each other? Herb: The melody is enchanting. Tranquil and yet melancholic. There is a literal goddess in my garden. I don’ know what to do, but I should say hello, I think? Clover: He looks...so familiar...

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? The bar squad just gave each other look everytime they see Herb and Clover hanging out. Like, “Are they dating because they should???” After observation from Milennial Tree and Wind archer, they think Herb is the perfect suit to watch over their little Clover.

Who felt romantic feelings first? Herb felt them first. Almost immediate love at first sight. He immediately wanted to see Clover again and invited him to come to his garden every morning. Just the two of them every morning in a place only for them. The thought of this made him so embarrassed and giddy. Clover also smelled like grass, so even if he wasn’t in his garden, his “safespace,” just being by Clover made him feel at home. Clover still had lingering feelings for Shamrock when he spent time with Herb. Only after did it grow out of that and went for just falling for Herb himself.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Clover tried to resist only because he didn’t want to fall for Herb because he reminded him of Shamrock. He didn’t want to do that to him. But when he realized that he was in fact just falling for Herb because he’s Herb did he let it happen.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? Herb: It does feel like fate to see you again. Clover: I don’t want to keep thinking back to him, but if reincarnation is real...No...No I shouldn’t think like that.

What would their lives be like if they had never met? Herb would be lonely all by himself in his little garden. Clover would still be traveling with nowhere else to return home to.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? It just happened naturally. Slowly getting closer. Spending every morning together, turned into afternoon, and into nights, and just spending every waking moment together. They didn’t even need to say anything or ask each other out, they just knew how comfortable it was to be with each other that they wanted to stay that way.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? The first time it felt like an actual date was when Clover invited Herb to a little private concert in the woods. Herb offered to bring picnic supplies. They walked through the forest until they could find a nice spot to settle on. They crossed over a stream on a fallen tree. Clover slipped on the moss and fell to the side but Herb jumped to catch him. Waded through the ankle deep water so fast to make sure Clover didn’t get wet, because “walking around in a soggy skirt seems uncomfortable.” Herb was holding Clover in his arms and Clover just looked at him. Thinking. Admiring. Clover wrapped his arms around Herb’s neck and stayed there. They both “soaked” in the moment before Herb stood Clover back on the log. Clover didn’t let go of his hand. Herb was his support for the rest of the tree. But even after they were past the stream, they didn’t let go of each other’s hands.

What was their first kiss like? It felt right. All the days leading up to it felt like they could have kissed just right there. They greeted each other the same each morning. Clover groggily walked into the garden and gave Herb’s apron a tug. Herb turned to Clover with a smile. He just had to lean in naturally and it was done. They held it for a few seconds. Herb pulled away then it struck what he just did. “Clover, I’m so sorry! That came out of nowhere. I should’ve asked or s-something.” Clover looked at him still processing what had happened, then his face turned pink. They both just stood there embarrassed before Clover asked for another.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? They were each other’s first relationship. Clover has been in love many times before but was always afraid to make it official knowing he would outlive them. Herb isn’t the social type, it was actually Sparkling that approached him and forced him into familiarity. But Herb never went out of his way to get to know someone enough to start dating.

What’s their height difference? Age difference? Clover’s at the perfect height to peek over Herb’s shoulder. Clover ages slowly, so a 100 years it he equivalent of a human year of growth. So clover started slowly aging after 18 years, now he’s 700+ years thus making his body 25 years old. Herb is 26 hehoo.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families? Clover’s family is lost to time. He doesn’t know who his real parents are and his adoptive parents died centuries ago. Herb admires Milennial Tree and he’s friendly with Wind Archer. Clover is also familiar with Sea Fairy through Milennial Tree.

Who takes the lead in social situations? Herb is usually one who tries to blend in with the background and slip away from social situations, yet he’s very approachable. He uses Clover to mellow out social situations, and Clover is very talkative and friendly. So by having Clover there, Herb can direct everyone’s attention away from him and onto Clover.

Who gets jealous easier? Clover likes all of Herb’s friends, but Herb does get a bit jealous when he sees Clover hanging out with them. He’s keeping his eye on Mint Choco even though he knows Mint Choco and Cocoa are dating. Irrational Jealousy.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear? Clover’s got good ears so Herb would whisper so quietly that no one but Clover can actally hear him even if it’s not directly in his ear. So Clover is the one who would tend to whisper in Herb’s ear. However, since Clover’s ears are so sensitive, Herb whispering in them would tickle. Herb would use that to his advantage sometimes. He isn’t one to dirty talk, but when they do get uhhh dirty, he loves to see Clover shudder when he brushes his lips against his ear and breathe compliments to him.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first? Clover would say I love you in ways without using those words, through poems, music, gestures, and actions. So Herb would say “I love you” first but Clover said it first.

What are their primary love languages? Hugs! Clover likes to sit in Herb’s lap and Herb would rub his head.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines? Clover is more poetic so he wouldn’t use cheesy pick up lines. Herb would research some bad ones and tell them to Clover, though. Just to make him laugh.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? All the time. As often as they could. Whenever they’re in the vicinity of each other.

Who initiates kisses? Clover! He looks up at Herb with pleading eyes that Herb knows to bend over and give him a peck on the lips. And Clover would sometimes just wrap his arms around Herb’s neck to hold him there a bit longer.

Who’s the big and little spoon? Clover’s the little spoon. He loves being surrounded in Herb. Herb just holds little plants so often, of course he’d keep Clover in his arms.

What are their favorite things to do together? Gardening, of course.

Who’s better at comforting the other? Clover has more comforting words to offer, but Herb’s hugs are just what Clover needs to feel safe.

Who’s more protective? Herb! It’s his instinct to protect the smaller things. Like plants, animals, Clover.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? Despite all the words they can say to each other, physical touch speaks real volumes. Just laying together is a whole romance novel.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise? https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzQcU45t2mctSxvM0JpOG3UCzxQVMAGsB

What kind of nicknames do they call each other? Honey...because Bees. *badumtss*

Who remembers the little things? Clover never forgets.

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes? Herb would. He would make the ring himself in the Jewelry shop. The proposal wouldn’t be flashy even. It would happen where they have always been. Alone in Herb’s garden. Clover sitting on his stool strumming his lute and Herb would walk over and kneel down. Take Clover’s hand into his and say “I have something to give you--” and he’d open the ring. “--the rest of my life.” (Adding context to the answer, they’ve talked about it before how Clover would outlive him and Herb feeling insecure about being just a chapter in Clover’s life. Shamrock being the prologue pssh. But Herb was just like “I would love you for the rest of my life. I just hope I become more than just a story you tell.”)

What’s the wedding like? Who attends? The wedding would be in the forest! Mystical and Magical. All the animals would be invited and everyone in the kingdom. Sparkling, of course running the bar. Mint Choco and Clover would have a little performance. Gingerbrave gets to be the ring bearer! Milennial Tree never gets tired of weddings so he’s crying. Wind Archer is the priest just because. It’s like a Disney movie or some shit.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like? No kids, only plants and funny woodland critters that visit. Although, Cookiesnap requires their combined attention.

Do they have any pets? Cookiesnap?

Who’s the stricter parent? Herb! Gotta make sure Cookiesnap doesn’t eat any of the other cookies. Clover would usually just play with Cookiesnap.

Who worries the most? Herb! Clover can be a bit airheaded and wander around into danger. But also, since Clover is sickly, Herb has to carry him around.

Who kills the bugs in the house? No kill, just relocate.

How do they celebrate holidays? They always go out and travel. Always away but still together.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning? Clover! Herb is a very early bird. Herb would wake up and see Clover cozily lying on his chest, head burried in his neck. Herb would kiss his forehead and try to go back to sleep. But he would just lay there and relish in the moment.

Who’s the better cook? Herb, even though they both fucking eat dirt, Herb has more experience cooking with actual ingredients.

Who likes to dance? Both! Although, it’s hard to dance together when one of them is playing the music. So when Clover is playing music, Herb dances with the flowers, but when they dance together, Clover sings as Herb hums.

#words #cookie run #sorry people who follow the cookie run tag #you know what im just sorry for everyone ever to look at this but i wanted to share anyway gfhjkl #i need to sleep now wuhhhh #but gotta get my kingdom rewards fuuckk

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