#yamamoto x male reader

[kawataslvr]

hii i recently read your shinichiro story and i loved it. i wanna try and request a takuya x m!reader kinda similar to your shinichiro fic (if you want ofc), also if you wanna, make it nsfw at the end to just piss off the reader's brother (which would be one in the mizo mid 5)

thx!!!

Summary: Fluff / Smut ,, cursing ,, your yamagishi’s younger brother , takuya manhandles you a lil (only a lil if you kinda squint and shut your eyes completely), in this fic your also only two years younger than your older brother,

A/N : i actually like the whole prompt of reader x brothers friend,, its just so funny to write to me snd i uslally rlly like the plt (ignore the grammar my cat stepped on my face)

Yamagishi and Takuya were talking normally, just hanging out at Yamagishi’s apartment.

Everything was fine, until you walked over and grabbed something from the shelf under the tv.

Having to bend over, normally everything would be fine. If Yamagishi didn't catch Takuya catching glances of you as you were bending down.

Giving Takuya a small warning kick to the ankle as a little “Stop” without saying it verbally, Takuya tried his hardest to not look.

Even as you walked back to your room Takuya had to fight the urge to stare, not like it wasn’t something he did often. Giving how you two are dating.

But Yamagishi didn't know, and even if he did, he'd still be furious.

Ever since Takuya told you about his feelings for you, you both promised to never tell Yamagishi.

Who you two could already see the blood boiling once he found out.

Sneaking in time to see each other when Takuya came over, or asking Yamagishi if you could come with him when he went to Takuya’s place or when he hung out with him.

However, after the small incident Takuya made sure to be more weary not leaving much alone time between you and your boyfriend.

Which means you didn’t get to see Takuya for long periods of time.

———— (timeskip, I'm a lil lazy.)

Yamagishi was working, you and Takuya were hanging out with you in the house you and your older brother shared.

Cuddling each other closely in bed, without a worry in the world.

Takuya pulled you in close and slid his hand down “I haven’t seen you in a long time, Y/N.” you let out a breathy gasp.

“Gishi gets back today, he could be here soon.” you told Takuya to leave earlier, but you had fallen asleep and he was just too comfortable to move away.

“Please.. Y/N.” Takuya gave your ass a light squeeze, whispering into your ear.

“f..fine.” With that Takuya quickly undressed you and himself, the two of you quickly intertwined lips together and broke into a heated makeout session.

Takuya broke the kiss and started to leave hickeys over your neck and shoulder grabbing onto your hips and enjoying the sweet moans leaving your mouth.

He moved his hand down and squished the soft plush of your ass making you moan loudly.

Takuya turned you around and made you face ass up, grabbing a bottle of lube from your night stand drawer.

“Oh wow, this is half empty. You’ve been enjoying yourself while I was gone haven't you?” he laughed to himself seeing how embarrassed you got.

Covering his fingers in the half used up lube, Takuya started prepping your hole and shoved his fingers in. Moving them quickly, making you let out the most porn worthy moans before hitting your prostate.

“T..takuyaaa~!” your dick was leaking precum at the sensation, Takuya added another finger.

“Calm down, we might be alone but if Yamagishi comes home he's going to hear you sweet thing..”

You nodded your head and tried to cover your mouth but with the way he was moving around you, he could feel how close you were to cumming.

Feeling how you were tightening around his fingers , he pulled out. “hnghh!” you whined loudly and tears welled up in your eyes at your restricted release.

He put lube on his cock and slowly shoved it in, spreading you apart and enjoying the sweet sounds coming out of your mouth.

He didn’t care if Yamagishi came in the house and heard this, the feeling of your tight hole and the sounds of your sweet moans.. he was so close to cumming.

Hitting your prostate over and over again until both of you came, Takuya getting so lost he came inside you “ah.. shit.. sorry baby, I didn’t mean to..”

“It's fine..” you were out of breath, the sticky sensation inside you feeling a bit weird.

Takuya grabbed both of your clothes which he practically ripped off earlier, he handed you a towel to clean yourself and the sheets.

You and Takuya were mid dressed when you heard the door open and a gasp, followed by angry yelling.

Even if he hadn’t seen anything, seeing his worn out little brother with hickeys all over the place and a shirtless Takuya. Yamagishi already figured out what happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.”

To say your older brother was BEYOND furios that day was an understatement, he ignored you and BANNED Takuya from your home.

Only accepting you and Takuya dating after you begged him crying to him.

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Prank War

Prank war goes to far. But manager Y/N knows how to fix it.

Yamamoto x gn!reader

SPLASH

Frozen not even a foot into the door way, you register the panicked expressions on your players faces- their prank did not go as planned.

Lev tripped, having attempted to run away, and fallen onto his back only to try and scurry on his long limbs and run into Inuoka.

You could practically feel the vein twitching in your forehead. Goddamit Yamamoto…

Kuroo had thought it was harmless, helping Yamamoto pull a prank on Kai to destress before Inter Highs, the team had been working hard and Kai was easygoing enough that it should have been fine.

But of course, as everything with a team full of hormonal teenage boys, it soon escalated to a war that you and the coach did not care to intervene with- upon the stipulation that you were both left alone. But you always knew that this war wouldn’t end if you didn’t end it.

Kenma had his games hidden- there was fear running rampant through the players until they finally showed up on the bench at the end of practice.

Yaku had all of his gear moved to the top shelf in the club room, where he refused to ask Kuroo or Lev for help to get it- until you finally dragged the captain in by his ear when you found Yaku trying to climb on top of stacked chairs to reach it.

Lev had his clothes swapped, needing to hold his new shorts every time he moved so they wouldn’t fall, because Kenma decided at his height he should dress proportionally whether he was proportional or not.

None of the players seemed to be safe from it, and they all tried to target Yamamoto, as he was the war’s instigator.

But they failed.

Walking into the gym, it should have been a normal day. Just warmups, laps, some three on three practice. But instead here you were, soaked to the bone and shaking from cold after three of them dumped buckets of ice water on you. Your clothes, your shoes, your bag, schoolwork, team notes- all of it was waterlogged. Your face, no longer clouded with shock, fell into scowl, your jaw snapping open, “KUROO!”

“Oh, no…” the captain muttered, panic lacing his features as he looked around for any means to escape, only to know he was trapped.

You were a very easy going manager- you kept them on task, you dished out praise when they felt low and honest humbling when they needed brought down from an ego high. You kept them hydrated, kept the gym clean, and defended them against strangers no matter which player was criticized.

But right now, you were fuming.

“Every. Day.” You growled as you stomped across the gym floor toward him, “EVERY DAY you lot have been playing new pranks on each other. I have been trying and trying to patiently wait it out- but this is too much!”

Kuroo expected to get hit. Slapped, punched, kicked, something.

But instead, as he squeezed his eyes shut to brace for it, all he felt was something damp lightly tap against his chest.

Blinking, he looked down to see you pressing a wet envelope against him.

“Give this to coach.” You looked defeated, “I can no longer be your manager.”

Gasps and arguments rippled through the gym as he stood there dumbfounded, Yaku tried to stop you- to talk you out of it, by the looks of it. But you just shook your head until you finally stepped back through the puddles they had made at the door, and kept going until you were gone.

“Yo, bros!” Yamamoto came strutting into the gym a few minutes later, everyone immediately turning glares mixed of anger and guilt his way, “What’s going on?”

“Ask your stupid prank accomplice.” Kenma snapped, shoving past him and marching out the door. The first years followed him, too dejected to stay and even try to practice, until eventually he was left alone with the third years.

“What the hell did I miss?”

Kuroo just didn’t look up, which said a lot without saying anything. Nothing really shook the guy, never like this at least. His face looked lost, upset, anxious. When he opened his mouth, even though his words were quiet, they echoed off the walls of the nearly empty gym, “Y/N quit.”

“WHA- What do you mean!? Y/N wouldn’t just quit!”

“Would if they happened to be caught in the middle of your stupid prank war.” Kai sighed, looking let down, “I knew this whole thing would cause trouble.”

“So did I, but we’re just as guilty.” Yaku muttered, still looking distraught, “We did nothing to step in and stop this. I watched that moron Lev talk Inuoka and Shibayama into helping him.”

Yamamoto didn’t stick around to listen to the rest of their guilt or self pity, he was flying back out the door.

There were a lot of times he tried (and failed) to convince you to let him walk you home after practice since you both joined the club in your first year. And there were a lot more times that he managed to get you to say yes.

So he ran.

He was a simp, that’s what everyone called him. It wasn’t a way to flirt, he may not be smart but he wasn’t naive enough to believe you took him seriously. He gushed your praises, appealed to your vanity, never said anything you wouldn’t want to hear. Now he had one thing that you needed to hear. He needed to apologize.

The team couldn’t lose you because of his stupidity. He couldn’t.

The gate in front of your house rattled so loudly you could hear it over the music playing on your stereo, confusion flooding your mind about who could be in such a hurry at a thundering series of knocks that almost shook the door hinges. You opened it curiously, peering through the crack as you kept running a towel over your hair. When you realized who it was, you let the door swing open, giving him a bright smile, “Hey, Taketora, what brings you here?”

You knew damn well what brought him here, but why would you make things easy for any of them at this point? Yamamoto hadn’t planned much- there were a lot of things he always wanted to say to you, but right now you needed to hear just one. So he bowed, not even having entered the home, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant for you to get stuck in this. I’m going to tell the guys tomorrow that I apologize, I never should’ve let it run rampant like it did. Just please- please don’t leave us.”

You blinked, words escaping you. “Tora-“ you sighed, “Come inside. Please, Tora.”

He shuffled in, not looking anything like the over confident boy you had come to know, he didn’t even comment on it being the first time he’d been allowed in your home. Didn’t say a word about seeing you outside of your uniform or gym clothes without the other guys around. “I don’t want you to leave the club because of me, Y/N.”

Sighing, you couldn’t help but give him a soft grin, “Don’t worry about it, Tora. In the club or not, we’re still gonna be in each other’s lives, right? As long as you want me, I’ll be there. I promise.”

“Of course!” He answered quickly, blush filling his cheeks at just how hasty his response really was, “I want you in my life forever, you know that, don’t you?”

It was your turn to blush. You’d been with Nekoma for a while, you knew that a lot of Yamamoto’s personality was mirrored in his Karasuno counterpart, Tanaka, and it presented in the day to day flattery you, and any attractive person that gave him the time of day, was showered in. But this was a serious statement, it left tingles up your spine as you gaped at him for a moment. Until a chuckle slipped past your lips as you patted his hand, “Glad you could finally mean it, Taketora.” When he looked up in shock, you just pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry too much about the club, okay? I know you guys will be just fine.”

When Yamamoto finally went home- after he insisted that he needed to properly take you on a date to make for the prank pulled on you- he sighed to himself. You never actually agreed to come back to the club. You might still be in his life, but what would the guys do if you didn’t stick around as their manager?

Walking into practice the next morning, none of the guys were enthused to actually practice. They knew they needed to, Inter Highs were coming whether they were ready or not, but they were even more let down when you weren’t in the gym waiting.

Tears immediately flooded Yamamoto’s eyes, he really thought he could’ve gotten through to you. Covering his face as the coach walked out, he was ready to be told you weren’t coming back. You were his partner off the court now, that would have to be enough for him.

Coach Yamamoto cleared his throat, “As you’re all aware, these pranks have gotten out of hand. I’m sure you’ve all learned your lesson by now.”

Choruses of confirmation could be heard, the Mohawked boy’s being the loudest, before the sound of the door opening drew their attention, “I’m glad to hear it, boys.” Shock and confusion ran through them as your laugh filtered into the air. Winking, you stuck your tongue out at them, “And that’s how you prank to end a prank war. Pull that shit again-“ you eyed your new boyfriend seriously, “And you’ll be back to cats with no master. You get me?”

Kai covered his smile for a moment, but he couldn’t contain it when you held your hand up to high five him and Yaku.

The rest of the team was offended that they knew you were lying about quitting, but it was quickly over shadowed by the shock of seeing you give the second year spiker a good luck kiss before practice started.

Masterlist

[takuyas-boyfie]

destiny might've known about that this year would be my first kinktober and crossed me with @chestharrington 's path and enlightened me with lazy ghouls kinktober, in which instead of writing for ever day or every couple of days, makes it a fic a week, which is very handy for a starter-not-haver-of-much-inspiration writer like me! so that's that and thanks to him for just having that great idea

kinktober masterlist

Week One: Bi!Makoto Suzuki x Gay!Kazushi Yamagishi (Virginity, Masturbation)

Week Two: Draken x m!reader (Role reversal)

Week Three: Baji x Chifuyu x m!reader (threesome, vouyerism)

Week Four: Takuya x m!reader (creampie/breeding)

Week Five: Akkun x m!reader (a/b/o)

[stuff-and-fluffs]

reader x character who notably get hit a lot by volleyballs! requests open, but gonna take some time to actually post it <3

“my feelings for you hit me like a volleyball to the face”

hinata, lev, kageyama, yamamoto

please do not plagiarize!

[thursdayisfriday]

Masterlist(3)

𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮!!☄. *. ⋆

Nekoma

Tetsurō Kuroo

Nobuyuki Kai

Morisuke Yaku

Taketora Yamamoto

Kenma Kozume

Shōhei Fukunaga

Sō Inuoka

Lev Haiba

[cheralith]

vogue — 「 boss/fashion designer!geto suguru x reader 」

synopsis ; even without much knowledge in the world of fashion, you decide that it's in your best interest to work for the country's fashion magazine powerhouse. however, you begin to second-guess your decision when you're faced with the grueling labor of its one and only editor-in-chief who expects nothing less of perfection. can your efficiency meet his standards or will you be out the door before you can even blink?

content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, use of they/them pronouns, mild language, traditional japanese basis of (l/n) (f/n) used, reader wears glasses, makeup, and heeled boots, some mild manga and jjk 0 spoilers (three minor characters from each are introduced), uhhh suguru being a dick lawl, some parts not edited/not beta read

contains ; editor-in-chief!geto, fashion designer!geto, assistant!reader, assistant turned ****!reader, platonic roommate!ino, modern au, mild angst, some crack if you squint

word count ; 10.2k

notes ; heavily inspired by "the devil wears prada" and "paradise kiss", so there'll be some references i've dropped within this—see if you can spot them! also the censored is spoilers so until then, hehe.

now playing ; seven days in sunny june - jamiroquai

It’d be foolish not to know the household name of Geto Suguru, the ultimate male muse of Jun Takahashi whose title has yet to be reigned by another. He was the ultimate breathing mannequin of the iconic Yohji Yamamoto piece he had worn on the Milan runway back when he was just a teenager. It was one of the most staple pieces of the new century that helped open the gates of the mixing of world culture and avant garde fashion—an England-Japanese punk fusion of an ashen and tattered kasaya layered under the contrasting statement piece: the earth-toned gojōu-gesa splattered with weaves of gold—and it was that very piece that rose him to the top of the fashion world as one of the most powerful names in global fashion.

And how could he not? At seventeen, he was scouted as a model for Gaulthier and became his muse at the ripe age of twenty before several other worldwide designers began to fight for his eyes. It was only a few shrewd years later that he’d open up his own successful fashion line, RIIKO, named in honor of his late sister, resulting in it becoming one of the fashion line pillars in the modern century. 

It didn’t take long after that, due to his fame and distinct education from Jujutsu University, rising to the top for Kaizen fashion magazine and ruling it with an iron fist and several cups of coffee with almost all his designs on display for all to see in the office. It was due to his work that Kaizen became the powerhouse of powerhouses of fashion editorials and magazines and it was solely his work that made fashion what it was in present times. 

Whether it was direct or indirect, Geto had impacted the industry in all sorts of ways. Be it blossoming an upcoming supermodel’s name or setting new fashion trends, everything could essentially be traced to Geto Suguru. 

So it’s understandable that many had called you a fool—a dimwit, even—for not understanding how big of a deal it was to become his junior assistant after lazily submitting your resume. Originally, you had just wanted to become a simple lifestyle journalist for papers like Sankei Shimbun or The Japan Times, but seeing how it was between a seemingly mysterious fashion magazine that mentioned, received gasps, or the measly and homely newspaper of The Hokkaido Tribune, a magazine you knew would only give new journalists the scraps of what they earned, the choice was obvious. 

Whatever gave you more money, you’d take. Survival of the fittest, was this world not?

“Do not tell me you’re going to your interview at Kaizen wearing that?” Ino barks out a laugh as he finishes his morning cereal for breakfast, scanning your outfit. “You’re going to work in a fashion magazine, not some dingy corporate office.”

You sneer at him as you shove on your loafers (don’t mind that the leather is peeling slightly on the side). You think that there’s nothing remotely wrong with your overused gauntlet gray matching set of trousers and blazer with a slightly wrinkled button-up underneath it. 

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at your roommate and parttime brother figure. “What on earth do you know about fashion?”

“Enough of it to know that outfit is atrocious for that type of environment,” he states simply as he shoves a donut in his mouth. He kicks his feet up on the table, making you cringe at their nakedness. “Trust me, change if you can. Make a statement for ‘em.”

Ino Takuma sighs and glances at your thick spectacles that you’ve worn since early college. “And at least change your glasses for your contacts. Heard they don’t like those sorta things over there. At least not the prescription kind.”

“Can’t find them,” you grunt when you feel the weight of your shoulder bag heave down your body. “I’m already late, anyway,” you sigh, “Listen, if I don’t come back alive, which I will by the way, then you can dance on my grave all you want.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he chants before he lets out a haughty snicker that gets muffled instantly when you slam the door on him. 

You throw insults at Ino in your mind, grumbling about how a mere job hopper like him wouldn’t even know the speck of fashion, how you refuse to take advice from someone who wears the same thing every day. There’s nothing wrong with the gray, you think. It’s safe and presentable, ordinary and professional, and you’d much rather blend in than stand out as you believe standing out and making yourself known is just a recipe for trouble. 

Stretching out a hand on the street, you call for a taxi and humbly enter as you smooth out your trousers. The taxi driver eyes you in the rearview mirror with a questioning glint in your eye. “Job interview?” he asks.

“Oh, um,” you nod your head. “Yep! I'm a little nervous, haha.”

“Really?” he says as he gratefully steps on the accelerator a little faster. “Better get you there quick, then. Would hate to have you late. Where are you planning on working?”

“Kaizen Magazine,” you declare confidently, an affirmative look on your face.

“Kaizen?” questions the driver slowly as his eyes go to scan your outfit in the mirror again, his brows raised. “As in the… the fashion magazine?” 

You nod with visible apprehensiveness. You think that maybe you truly were the only person in the world that didn’t know the impact of Kaizen, seeing as how a mere taxi driver even knew about the name and you didn’t up until a few weeks ago. 

“I see…” he mutters. The drive there is a mix of silence and everyday morning conversations, before he pulls up to the building that held the key to your dreams. “Well then, here’s your stop.” 

You let out a little gasp of excitement. “Thank you so much,” you reply as you shove some cash into the slot. 

“Hm, well,” the taxi driver counts the money carefully, barely looking just before you close the door as he mutters, “Good luck, Plain Jane.”

You turn back to the taxi, your hearing a little awry. “Sorry, what was that?”

But when you turn back to the yellow cab, all that’s left is a billow of smoke and cinders. Dazed and confused, you quickly shake those feelings off before you head inside to the building that was now your shining beacon of hope with a determined smile still plastered on your lips. White is the first thing that greets you when you enter the building as it was essentially aired out onto every corner. White marble counters, white tile flooring with white grout, white frames of fashion icons—the white screams pristine and perfection to you and its message went very much noticed. You haven’t even met Geto Suguru yet, but you understood already that he expected nothing but excellence.

You ride up the elevator quietly and alone, trying not to focus on how your anxiety increased with each ding of the passing floors. The elevator screen seems to almost taunt you as it closes in on your doom, the numbers getting closer to the designated floor until it slowly pauses and shone brightly the number 21 in stippled red.

The doors slowly open and the light seeps itself back to your vision, white flooding your senses again. You carry yourself carefully down the hallway whilst taking your time to admire the many framed pictures of past magazines, multiple runway models, and scraps of newspaper articles. One specific piece catches your attention, however; it was large, almost half your body size and framed in a gilded black frame. It was a picture of a mannequin wearing a tawdry gray-black robe with the kanji characters of “summer” painted with purple messily atop. Layered was a loose, but well-fitted piece of thick green and gold cloth that looked much more refined to the messiness of the other materials. 

You stare at it for what seemed to be forever whilst admiring the contrast and beauty of the work before your name is called out.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?”

Your trance breaks from the voice approaching you. You turn to see a short and young woman with dark blue eyes staring at you with a raised brow. “That’s you I presume?” she asks.

“Oh! Uh,” you nod furiously and smooth out your trousers again. “Yes… yes, that’s me. I assume you’re Manami Suda? The one I spoke with on the phone?”

She nods slowly, her eyes going to study your outfit which was a rather stark contrast to her own attire that highlighted an emphasis on shades of opal and navy. Her eyes have a similar glint in the way that Ino’s and the taxi driver’s had, further enunciating the message that your attire was rather… something.

“I see you’ve dressed up for the occasion,” she murmurs. Sarcasm going undetected by you, you grin as a response and think that a compliment from her was a sign you did something right. Her eyes go to rise back and meet yours again before she turns and redirects you to the end of the hallway where some rooms belonging to subordinal editors sat in, clacking away at the computers. There was one singular room that held the only door on the floor and it doesn’t take you long to assume who it belongs to considering the large letters of GS frosted onto the glass.

Two desks stood on each side of the door, one completely devoid of life and decorations. Manami guides you to the empty one and patted the top of it. “This will be yours if you manage to miraculously pass.” 

Manami taps on her clipboard a couple of times, listing off a couple of requirements that you were most likely going to need in the future: efficient time management, ability to fight for what Geto wants, sharp memory, quick feet…

“And uh…” Manami flickers her eyes to you and the details (or lack of, in this case). She mutters under her breath quietly, “... a good wardrobe.”

You turn to her, internally wondering if you were going deaf today. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“A good, warm…” she squints, obviously finding the right word to keep that ignorant smile on your face. “... welcome to start off his day.”

She succeeds in her task as you merely nod with the same blatant grin attached. “Got it!”

Manami tours you around the floor of the office, letting you say hello to your future coworkers that work in the cubicles that send you worried looks behind your back. They obviously seem too pitying of you, knowing that your fate would be sealed as Geto’s potential right hand man the moment you signed that employee contract.  

“This is Human Resources,” Manami gestures over to a room filled with chattering employees who seemed to be getting their gossip out before their day started. “You’ll contact them if you have any—” her phone dings suddenly. Casually, she pulls it out, only for all of her resolve to disappear in an instant. Manami then abruptly blows a whistle with her teeth, alerting everybody in the radius.

“Everybody! His morning facial was canceled!” Manami hollers. “Geto is coming in…” her phone pings again with another notification, and you can tell Manami’s heart instantly drops. “Oh God… he’s in the lobby! Everybody, places! You,” she snags the sleeve of your blazer and drags you along with her, your clunky loafers nearly tripping you. “Come with me.”

Manami takes back to where you first started and orders you to stand in the front of the blank desk with a look that screams both fright and anxiousness all in one. She lists off too many tasks that you need to do before he comes, but you’re so frazzled with trying to remember how to act in front of your future boss that you can’t even remember the first thing she told you. 

“Help me arrange the drafts of the magazines from most recent to least recent before he—”

The elevator dings and all goes quiet; Manami tosses the magazines over her shoulders and positions herself firmly in her place, gesturing for you to do the same. The doors open and unveiled from two bodyguards is a man—a tall man, around six feet or perhaps even taller—dressed in noir fitted pants and a matching button-up closed only halfway to reveal a silk navy turtleneck. Caped behind him is a black velvet trenchcoat that you’re sure is worth half your rent and a watch plated on his wrist that is well over your life savings. He’s slightly sunkissed, with blue-black tresses of hair with a soft bang sneaking through and large plated earrings to match. His eyes, however, show a tint of color—a sharp dark amethyst that you think could cut through you like crystals.

But he’s almost hauntingly attracting—like a spirit. Something about him was an enigma and his aura was nothing less than powerful. 

“Good morning, Geto,” Manami chants with an artificial happiness to her tone.

Geto doesn’t reply, just merely giving a silent blink before he sheds his coat off and tosses it aimlessly towards Manami. It proves to be heavier than anticipated, giving how she fights to groan from the weight of it. He’s handed his briefcase from one of the bodyguards and begins to open the door to his office until he pauses and turns and glances at you, the stranger.

“Hello,” you state with a slight bow. “I-I’m one of the interviewees for your junior assistant. My name is—”

“(Y/N),” Geto murmurs; his voice is soft and low. It’s all knowing, with indigo eyes boring into your own. “(L/N) (Y/N), I know. The one that graduated from Jujutsu University recently, yes?” 

 Adjusting your glasses to wave away the blurriness, you nod with anticipation. “Yes, that’s me.”

Geto turns back and opens the door, to which he only replies back, “In my office.”

You glance at Manami for confirmation, only given back with a jut of her head towards the door. All the unease you felt in the elevator comes hurdling back to you in an instinct and you feel as if you were no more than a peasant to someone that was essentially royalty in the fashion world. 

Geto turns his chair to face away from you, shuffling a few papers over each other that appears to be your resume, before he spins it slowly towards you. He kicks his feet up lazily on his desk. 

“It’s nice to have another Jujutsu alum to join us,” he says. His voice is still the same—a little baritone with a wisping edge of a whisper to it, but it almost sounds… bored. Unamused even. “A bachelors in print journalism… same as mine, hm. Tell me, is Professor Tengen still as loose as ever with their practices?”

You fight to fiddle with your glasses as you watch as Geto tangibly toys with his own, with his focus angled on the papers in front of him rather than you. “Um, I assume so. Though I believe they’re actually retiring this year.”

“Good,” he sighs in what seems to be relief. “Shame that the university had wasted time and money by hiring them. Truly, I hope they can find someone much better suited for their position.”

“Really?” you quietly question. You had only taken their class a few semesters ago and thought despite their rather… all too lenient disposition… you did learn quite a lot in their class. “I thought they were a rather alright teacher…”

Regret pools in your mouth from the moment you have finished your sentence. Geto finally goes to look at you from the edge of his glasses with a sharp look, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. 

“Tengen was merely a sorry excuse for a professor. They were rather nothing but a nanny who gave their students too much leeway,” Geto declares. “Though, I’ll admit, I am pleasantly surprised that you managed to take something out of that class.”

A laugh that’s just dripping with nothing but nervousness leaks out of your lips. “I suppose I had learned just a few things…”

“Mmh,” Geto nod nonchalantly, eyes drawing back to the papers. “Well. Let’s start with the basics. Why exactly do you want to work here?” 

Geto already feels the cliche comments erupting. Had the person in front of him say at least one of them, he was ready to insert the papers he was holding into the nearby shredder. Or maybe out the window this time, he wonders—something nice for a change.

“I was inspired by your work.” 

“It’s been my dream to work at Kaizen.”

“Fashion is my absolute passion.”

“I want to—”

“I’m just in need of a job, really,” you say lifelessly. 

He goes to raise his head slowly from the packet and turns to you slowly. Geto doesn’t say anything, but his facial expressions indicate a blend of confusion and intrigue. A slithering tongue darts out to slick his lips, indicating you’ve piqued his interest. “Well, obviously. But why this job specifically? What about it stood out to you?”

You clear your throat. “I had learned recently that Kaizen is a rather prestigious mag—”

“‘Recently’?” Geto repeats quietly. “You hadn’t heard of us before?” 

Lips thinning, you shake your head slightly. His eyes go narrow again to your dread, serpent-like. “My specialty is more in newspapers rather than magazines, I-I’m not too knowledgeable in that area.”

Geto goes quiet and the silence makes the air go thick. It’s then that familiar glint sparkles in his sullen eyes when they go to examine your choice of clothing—it confirms Ino was truly right in the end, as he lets out a smile-less chuckle that doesn’t do much to ease your brain. 

“Continue,” Geto gestures and takes off his glasses to look at you, or you suppose your outfit, more properly. He folds his hands and places his chin on top of them. “You said you only learned about us not too long ago?”

“Yes, and I realized that perhaps working here for a while would, at least I hope, grant me access to other media houses,” you explain. It’s only then you realize that your declaration sounds absolutely ludicrous and almost disrespectful to the editor-in-chief of the most iconic fashion magazine in the nation. “Connections are quite powerful in this day and age, haha…”

“I suppose,” Geto mumbles with not much interest in your poor humor. “What about me? I do hate bragging but surely, you know about my name or at least my fashion line?”

Your hesitant countenance and silence tells Geto all he needs to know. He thinks that it’s almost some sort of marvel that no one has heard of him or his works before.

He sighs. “Do you have any experience working in any fashion-related activities at least?”

“Well, I once worked in a department store for a few months back in high school,” you say thoughtfully (and ignorantly).

Geto gives you a blank look. His blinks are apathetically slow.

“Um,” you clear your throat again and shake your head, timid. “N-no…”

“Then tell me,” he continues smoothly. “Why exactly should I hire you? You obviously have no taste in fashion and you hadn’t even heard of my name, let alone my magazine, until recently. What is there within that makes you want to work here other than you just… what was it that you said?” He air-quotes mockingly, “‘needing a job?’”

Your throat runs dry and limbs go stiff. A heat rockets to your face when you seemingly can’t get any words out to excuse yourself, much too caught up in the same of your ignorance towards Geto’s profession. And that’s all the response he needs to make his decision. 

His hand takes the packet again and to your horror that you fight to keep in, inserts it into the paper shredder. The groan of it rumbles through the room agonizingly and you realize that Ino is going to have the time of your life planning your doomsday. 

Geto gives you the mercy of breaking the thick silence first. “You may go.” 

With a swift flick of his wrist, Geto dismisses you with a slight edge to his murmuring as he puts back on his glasses to examine the morning newspaper to not waste any more incessant time in the day. 

You don’t even attempt to fight back with any poor excuses. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, the sting of them frustrating you to your wits end. Instead, you gather the last of your resolve and bid him through a strained throat good day and make your leave, humiliation and disappointment trailing not too far behind. 

You hope that Ino will give a nice eulogy, at least.

Out of all the miracles that await you in life, you do not expect the one that comes in the form of an early morning phone call that wakes you at the ass-crack of dawn. When you pick it up with sleep still very much embedded in your eyes, it dissipates in the instant you hear Manami’s voice. It’s only then that it hits you why on earth she was calling so early and why she was demanding to know your whereabouts, claiming you were going to be late on your first day of work. 

You think it’s some sort of cruel joke maneuvered by Ino, especially with how his comforts from last night were mixed with taunts. But when Manami’s voice finally registers in your brain, by some sort of miracle or stroke of luck, you have gotten the job as Geto Suguru’s junior assistant. 

You don’t know how, but you don’t waste any time questioning how on earth you landed in such a position because you leap out of bed at 7:23 a.m. and manage to do your morning routine in the matter of what you think is a record-breaking fifteen minutes. Your ruckus manages to wake up deep-sleeping Ino, who, when you excitedly tell him to postpone your funeral, gives a groggy thumbs up before drooling back into his pillow. It’s 7:38 a.m. when you shove on your shabby coat and you realize you only have a mere twenty-two minutes left until you have to officially clock in for work. 

At 7:40, you’re out the door and sprinting to the located coffee shop that thankfully wasn’t too far from where you lived.

At 7:47, you’re at the designated cafe whilst attempting to swim through the crowds of morning bustlers to pick up Geto’s coffee.

7:50, you’re sticking your hand out waving desperately for a taxi and tip extra to make the driver speed through as you attempt to make sure the coffees don’t spill out of their containers.

7:58, you arrive at the building and just barely make it into the narrow gap of a tight-fitting elevator, earning stares from the others from your rather… frazzled appearance.

At 8:02 a.m., you dash out the elevator and officially clock in for your first day at work at Kaizen Magazine amidst a birdnest of hair, clothes that were plucked out of your hamper, and what you pray to the heavens above are hefty layers of deodorant and perfume since you were given no time to shower.

When Geto comes in that day, all suave and composed, he takes one good look at you before sighing and focusing his attention to the more refined Manami and lets her take the gears for the day. The only attention he gives you that morning is the rough toss of his heavy coat—a cashmere pearl peacoat today—flung at your arms that nearly makes you tumble from its weight.

You quickly learn that working for Geto requires high demand and maintenance, as he is not one to skip over any details in his day. Not even three hours in your first day, you already have to plan out his future meetings, reschedule one with a rather feisty and insistent client, edit a forest of emails, finishing by dashing out five blocks on foot to the two michelin star restaurant to retrieve Geto’s weekly steak for lunch. Had this been your old corporate job, you only would’ve gotten half the tasks you had completed by the end of the usual eight hours, but you realized early on that you had barely scratched the surface of your future in Kaizen.

You think that after plating his steak with the shakiest of hands, you finally have time to relax during lunch time when you see the small hand of the clock finally hit 12:00 p.m. , especially since you and him were left alone in his part of the office together. But the moment that Geto saunters into the office again, he tends to you once again with a final task by himself.

“(Y/N),” he calls from the office, the scrape of his fork against ceramic cluttering your ears agonizingly. 

You fight the urge to cringe from the sound as you scurry to the doorframe, hands stiffly intertwined together. “Yes, Mr. Geto?”

“No need for such formalities,” he remarks with the dab of a napkin to his lips. “They make me feel old, and I’m surely not much older than you are…” you think that’s the longest he’s spoken to you since the day had started. “Did Leibovitz confirm?”

Blinking, you tilt your head ignorantly. “D-did who confirm?”

He pauses and does that taunting slow rise of his eyes from his steak to you. “Leibovitz. Did she confirm?”

Silence fills the office, much like the silence that drowned you back at the interview. He clicks his tongue and dismisses you with a disappointed shake of his head. “Just go on your lunch,” he mutters, sighing.

Manami, the savior that she is, is called into the office after her break and is asked the same task and you watch with humiliation whilst packing your things to go on your lunch as she picks up the telephone and speaks to someone over the line before confirming to Geto that, “I’ve got Annie!”

“He hates me, Taku!” you cry out whilst flopping onto the dinner table. It’s ten in the evening and you’ve just come home after what was supposed to be an 8-5 shift. You suppose you should be used to this already after two months of working for the Lucifer donned ritually in white in the building, but you don’t know how much your sanity (and body) can take. 

Normally, Geto is usually cold to those who he wasn’t familiar with, but you think that his distaste for you sours everyday. You notice that he’s beginning to pile you with the more urgent and busier duties and that he often stares you down more menacingly in the morning with those piercing purple eyes of his, like you were gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe. You thought it was just him being normal Geto Suguru, the man with the expectations higher than the clouds, and that you just were still adjusting to such a high-intensity environment, but it was today that your world came crumbling down when you overheard him muttering to his associates about you, tone icier than ever.

You were on the other side of the door, a fist going to rap on the glass with the other holding his afternoon coffee pick-me-up when you heard it.

“... can’t even do the most miniscule things right,” Geto had groaned. “I ask if Lanvin’s models are all good to go for next Thursday’s shoot and somehow, they have the nerve to ask ‘How do you spell Lanvin’? For fuck’s sake, I can feel my goddamn conscious just wither away by the second.”

You hadn’t heard Geto swear since you had started working there, but something about his venomous tone enunciating such words had made your blood run cold from the other side of the door. Not having the courage to face him after that, you left his coffee on Manami’s desk for her to tend to with a post-it note saying a sorry excuse for yourself before letting your eyes sob frustratingly in the bathroom, isolated from others.

The last time you had cried that hard was way back in childhood, where you had broken your arm from falling down a tree branch. But you think that Geto’s words had twisted through your skin and bone much harsher than that pain ever will. 

“It’s a miracle how I haven’t been fired yet… I don’t even know why he hired me!” you wail.

Ino sighs from across the dinner table and you can’t tell if it’s a sigh of pity or a sigh of criticism. You learn that it’s both when he rolls his eyes at you whilst simultaneously pushing a plate of much needed food towards you. 

“First off, you need to eat,” he presses, staring at your gaunt features. “The way your face is swallowing is making me feel like I’m living’ with a ghost. You’ve lost some weight, I’ve noticed.”

Awareingly, you touch your cheekbones and realize he’s right, for you feel the small disc of sharpness from them prick your fingertips. They’ve never been so cavern before. You suppose it’s because of the lack of proper meal time between your days and how you often eat small and very late dinners back at home, truly not enough needed fuel for you.

“Secondly,” Ino chews his tongue, wondering if he should really say what he’s about to say because of your current disposition but goes through with it anyway. He might as well rip the bandaid off now to let more time for the wound to heal. “You won’t like what I’m ‘bout to say, but you need to up your game. Severely.”

An aching body rises up from the table. You go to stare at Ino through glazed eyes and a pouty lip, asking him what he meant.

“Ah nope! Don’t give me that face and don’t play coy with me,” he hisses, looking away to not give in to your helpless puppy eyes. He can’t—he shouldn’t give you the easy way out and just say to quit—not when you’ve been earning so much bank that rent isn’t a problem for either of you anymore. He wonders, though, for a moment if so much money is worth your rationality.

He drags a hand down his face before placing his chin on it, examining your haggard appearance. “What I mean is that you need to see through Geto’s eyes. See what he sees when he looks at you. Tell me, if you had an assistant that showed up wearing things that looked like they were plucked from the clearance bin at a thrift store and didn’t show any respect for your brand, which just so happens to be a fashion magazine out of all things…” Ino eyes you with a raised brow. “You startin’ to follow me?”

Your fingers fiddle with each other. “... sorta.”

“Now listen,” he raises his hands up lazily in surrender. “I already know what you’re ‘bout to say about me not knowing’ how to dress in shit other than black and more black, but even I know that you should put in more effort into your appearance. That’s the first step.”

“But I have—!” you exclaim helplessly, “I-I swear, I’ve been trying to… but it’s not my fault that it isn’t up to his standards.”

Your roommate groans and rubs his forehead, not really knowing what else to do for your situation until an idea pops in his head. “Free up your weekend,” he demands with a sly grin that makes you a little uneasy. “I’m no fashion connoisseur, but you know who is?”

“And remember, we never touch anything with chevron on it, especially in today’s fashion world,” Yuki chimes as she slaps on a navy blue pageboy cap on your head and she prances about your bedroom that’s been littered with spare clothes from her very own closet she graciously gifted to you for the past weekend. “I’m so utterly relieved that the trend has dug its own grave.”

The past weekend had been filled with endless shopping trips and you shuffling in and out of clothes every minute, practicing how to pair items and colors together by Yuki’s teachings. Of course you should’ve known that Ino was going to contact the one person that he was within reach that was essentially a walking encyclopedia when it came to fashion. You’ve met Tsukumo Yuki before, found her to be quite delightful even, but you never anticipated she would be this giddy, especially about clothes of all things.

And she used her brain to good use for not only clothes, but the entirety of yourself. You never knew how much just a simple haircut could do your face along with small hints of makeup to emphasize the best parts of it. Dared not your hands go to a lash curler, but here you are now, making sure your powder compact and lipstick for the day was in your bag before you went out. 

“Uh, I don’t think I ever mentioned this before yet, but thank you for helping my wardrobe out, it really means a lot,” you say just before she slides on a pair of gold bangles on your wrist. “Are you sure you wanna give these clothes to me? I’m okay with just borrowing them.” 

“Nonsense, babe,” she wavers off before shuffling through your now-hearty closet, a closet that’s now bursting with many clothes given by her. “I needed space in my closet anyway, so take as much as you need.”

So (Y/N)’s closet is basically her trash can, a particular shaggy brunette thinks with a roll of his eyes. Ino fiddles with the piece of toast in his mouth as he leans on the doorway, watching as Yuki essentially treats you like her very own Barbie doll at such an odd morning hour. 

“(Y/N)’s not a doll, Yuki,” Ino lazily calls aloud through a tired yawn. “You better get ‘em out the door soon or else they’ll get late for work. Especially need that money since the landlord’s been on our ass about increasing our rent…” he mutters, sniffing. “Damn bastard.”

She snaps at Ino to be quiet and let her work before she shuffles on a regal blue overcoat over your shoulders that completes your look. When you look at yourself finally in the mirror, you almost think there’s a stranger in your house from the way you look so dignified compared to the you just three days ago. It’s a simple outfit with not much layering, but it’s still enough to ooze charisma and elegance to wandering eyes. You’re adorned in a white weaved sweater with flared, light-wash jeans and white boots to match. Over the outfit lies the coat that drapes almost like a king’s mantle behind you and the pageboy cap as your crown.

Yuki creeps up behind you, her manicured hands on your shoulders affirmingly. “How’re you feeling, hun?” she asks quietly as she shares the same sight with you in the mirror. “Don’t you look wonderful?”

You know that it was all her work, it was all her creativity that made you into the artwork that you are now, so breathlessly laugh with a smile on your painted lips and thank her quietly once more before whispering, “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

Her eyes study you for another minute, going to stare at the glasses still atop your face. Yes, they were new and much more modern considering she quite literally called your old pair atrocious, snapped them in half, and tossed them over her shoulder, but she was still quite dissatisfied when you told her about your hesitance about using contacts. “Are you sure you don’t want to give contacts another chance?” she sighs. 

You shake your head with a small smile, “I’ll feel completely naked without them,” you murmur, “Besides, I think they actually compliment this look, if I’m being honest.”

Her lips stretch out into a grin, too absorbed in her fashion education finally being used. 

“Well then!” she begins to drag you by the sleeve out your room. “We wouldn’t want you to be late then for your first day as the new you, right? Let’s get you a cab!”

Somehow, you think you really are at your first day at work again from the way you feel that same fluttering in your stomach and from how the people you’ve once grown accustomed to seeing in the early mornings are not merely passing you with mundane nods of their heads but instead, greeting you with wide-eyed gawks and open-mouthed smiles. Some of them, a few who you knew but never spoke a word to, even do a double take and compliment you aloud on the new look. Even the cute barista in the lobby that never bothered to spell your name right at last did after finally taking a good look at the holder of the card.

When you exit out of the elevator, Manami nearly drops the pile of magazines she’s holding when she spots a refined and refreshed you. You offer a bright smile to her and you watch as her gasp slowly forms into an affirmative grin when you round your desk.

She laughs softly. “And who might you be?” she asks with a tease in her voice. “‘Cause last time I checked, that’s my coworker (Y/N)’s desk.”

“I murdered them,” you shrug nonchalantly, earning another chuckle from her. You take it as a good sign, great even, considering up until now, Manami had been rather stoic and a little indifferent towards you because of your amateurism; but now, you suppose that ditching that Plain Jane from just two days ago is finally beginning to do you good by finally grounding a proper relationship with her. “Shame, isn’t it? Poor thing.”

“Truly,” she nods. Her eyes trail further down until they spot something that makes her gasp. “Don’t tell me those are—”

“—the new calfskin gold studded Louboutin boots?” you finish for her. You flex your ankle and show off the ravishing red bottoms of your shoes. “Oh yeah.”

Manami squeals in excitement and rushes over to your desk, begging to take a look at them. “How on earth did you manage to get your hands on these?! I’ve been looking for them fo—”

The elevator dings again but with a tone that makes you and Manami flinch. Both of you stiffen and straighten out your posture, falling into a thick silence when out comes Geto traipsing out like he usually did—his aura being nothing less than dominating. You and Manami chime out in sync a good morning to him as he saunters towards his office as he begins to shuffle off his coat as usual to toss to you until he looks up and catches you in his field of vision.

He stops all of a sudden with his eyes dancing about your figure, a stark contrast to the rest of his paralyzed body. Geto’s lips thin all of a sudden, and so do his eyes when they scan your outfit. He takes in a sharp breath and opens his mouth to say something to you, yet nothing comes out, even as your eyes glisten with anticipation.

It merely instead zips itself close and he finally whisks himself into his office, coat still on and briefcase still in hand, and slams the door shut. 

But not without glancing at you one last time.

Much has changed in the past month for the better.

Yuki was a godsend—she had been your guardian angel, your fairy godmother of sorts—because you swore your career life had taken a complete 180° the moment your closet was revamped. Ever since that makeover, you had felt so much more confident in your actions, so much lighter on your feet. The price of your efforts was beginning to pay off as well, as Geto began to slowly thaw his icier sense of self when you began to actually put effort into your appearance. His thrusts of his coat towards you began to become less aggressive, was significantly more lenient when it came to more of the impossible tasks, and had at one time actually muttered a ‘good morning’ to you and Manami after months of greeting with silence and judgemental glances.

She’d occasionally check up on you every once in a while, usually to offer new clothes that she didn’t want anymore. And by offer, it actually just meant packing them in a box from her place to yours with a post-it that’d usually read “With love, YT ❤” in neat cursive. Along with forming a close bond with Yuki, your relationship with Manami improved significantly, especially when you gave her those white Louboutins she was eyeing. She often invited you to lunch with her other friends, Larue and Remi. 

The iconic John Galliano once said that, “The joy of dressing is an art.” A month ago, you would’ve never believed what you would think is a rather tacky statement, but now, you can truly see it to believe it. It never occurred to you to actually look at your surroundings closely, but you often would sometimes take a few seconds out of your day to admire the many colors and materials that would adorn your coworkers. Whether it be admiration for their sense of style or mild jealousy over luxurious pieces, you were finally understanding what makes fashion, fashion.

And your epiphany was awarded today with the task that you thought would never come into the light of your days working for Geto—being tasked with dropping off The Book.

The Book was a collection of pieces that were needed for the upcoming edition of the magazine, regarding it as being the most important item in the entire company. It was a duty that usually Manami tended to, but she hypothesized that you managed to finally get on Geto’s good side after a while and congratulated you. Manami spoke to you briefly about how trivial The Book was to both Geto and Kaizen. She told you about how you must guard it and Geto’s key to his penthouse with your life, and that you were to remain absolutely invisible to him if he was in the apartment. Manami told you because it was usually the hour he needed most concentration—it was during the later hours of the day that he usually mended last minute edits to the edition or he was working on his latest fashion collection since he was only able to work on it during the weekends as Kaizen took too much of his time.

Manami told you he would most likely be found on the second floor of his penthouse, and you were to remain on the first floor at all costs. 

“The editors will finish The Book around 10:30 or 11:00 at night, wait in the office until then. Then, drop the book off at his penthouse at no later than 11:30 with his dry cleaning, too.”

Her words echo in your mind as you tiptoe out of the cab and look up to see a gleaming, glamorous building sitting in the heart of the city. It’s one you’ve passed a plenty of times—hell, you pass it on your way to work—but it never occurred to you that it’d be this antique white, Parisian-styled building that would be the abode of your boss. 

“Take the elevator to the top floor and enter his apartment. Do not call out his name, don’t wander around, don’t even make a single sound. You are nothing more than a ghost when you step foot into his house.”

The only doors that are on the very top floor of the apartment complex are two large metal doors that sit before you. You enter the key into the keyhole and push them open with controlled force, closing them as quietly as possible with Manami’s whispers still floating about your head. You knew that Geto was certainly a man of luxury, but to see that wealth exempt in a form other than fashion was a sight that you weren’t sure if your eyes deserved to feast on. Sculptures and paintings decorated the foyer and hallway, adding occasional splashes of color to the ivory-adorned apartment. After hanging the dry cleaning in the designated coat closet, the first room you enter - and perhaps the only one you’ll ever be in - is the said living room with the glass coffee table sitting in the center of it.

“Place The Book on the coffee table in the living room. That’s it. Do not toddle any longer in his house and get out immediately. Don’t let curiosity get the better of you and just simply go afterwards. It’s for your own good.”

But oh, how curiosity is just a little devil of temptation that sits far too easily on your shoulder. A house holds the most of a person, and Geto is just an all too mysterious enigma for you not to at least dip your toe in. The doors at the end of the hallway are waiting for you, but so are the picture frames that sit atop the TV stand. You suppose… maybe another minute wouldn’t hurt.

Your feet carry you slowly to the stand and you crouch, adjusting your glasses to get a better look at the pictures. There’s only two of them—six by fours, both in oak brown frames. The first one is a picture of a smiling young girl with short chestnut hair sporting a smile with a cigarette between her teeth. Beside her are two boys taller than her, both making similar faces at the camera. One of them, the one that’s a little taller with silvery snow hair and opaque black sunglasses, throwing a forced, all-too wide grin that almost looks maniacal. It doesn’t require much brain power to know the other figure in the photo is a younger Geto Suguru, his hair shorter in a tight bun with a rare, but soft grin on his face, his gaze affectionate to the others.

The other picture is of the same two boys arm in arm with each other. Both of them are grinning now, with the white haired boy still smiling a little more largely than the other. It doesn’t take long for you to assume who the other boy was considering that the shade of purple sheathing his twinkling eyes is unique to only one individual in your life. 

Best friends, you suggest in your mind as you study the pictures a little longer than needed. A minute, you thought, wouldn’t do much harm, but how utterly wrong your thoughts prove when you suddenly hear the slam of a door from the floor above. The crash of it makes you yelp and breaks you out of your trance from the pictures and your gaze suddenly snaps to the open stairs above you, as well as two voices echoing aloud. 

“Y-you can’t—” an unknown voice wheezes. “I’ve been your muse for years. You possibly can’t just abandon me out of nowhere…”

“You say that as if I’m not doing that right now,” a familiar one replies back boredly. It’s Geto, and his voice makes your nerves electrify in fear because it’s in that moment that you remember that you can’t get caught inside of his house. “This is the last time I’m telling you, Shigemo. Get out.”

The man that you assume is Shigemo heaves heavy breaths. “You need me,” he declares.

“Needed. Past tense,” Geto corrects as he almost forces Shigemo down the stairs with an invisible force surrounding him. You can see their figures above you, Shigemo slowly stepping backwards with each step Geto takes forward. “You’ve done me well these few years, I admit, and I do thank you for that. But I suppose your expiration date has finally come.”

“I’m not a food,” Shigemo snivels. “I’m a person. Most importantly. I’m the reason your fashion line flourished, I was the inspiration for almost all your works. We’re essentially a team.”

They’re towards the end of the staircase, towards where you are still present in plain sight. Your eyes scatter about a place to hide in the meantime, but there are seemingly no places to hide that would hide you well without the notice of Geto’s eyes.

“A team?” Geto barks out a sarcastic laugh, one that makes shivers run down your spine from both the rarity of the sound and how utterly intimidating it is. “I work alone and I always have. There is no point on relying on anyone of any kind when my independence obviously pays off.”

“Who will you have then?” Shigemo retaliates with a whimper in his voice. “You know that I’m the only one that will tolerate you. It’s not like you can go crawling to Goj—“

“Finish that sentence and see what happens,” Geto hisses, causing the other man to fall into a forced silence.

Your eyes finally land on the small space between the fireplace and a pillar. It’s a space large enough for you to fill and efficient enough to hide you from sight. Unsticking your feet from the ground, you make a run for the small space, only for you to forget about the obstacle that was the ottoman sitting spitefully on the floor.

The thud that comes from your body almost rivals the volume of the door slamming open moments earlier and just like the door, it attracts unneeded attention. Geto and Shigemo stop their bickering for a moment to search for the cause of the sound, only to see you humiliatingly face first on the floor. Geto narrows his eyes at the sight of you, an unwanted visitor in his home. 

A pained groan slips from your lips accidentally. You silently curse yourself for not taking the time to properly break into the tantalizing loafers Yuki bought you the day prior and wince at the pain blooming from your knees and chest. When you finally get up, you can’t help but notice that everything around you seems rather… hazy.

“Who is that…” Shigemo mutters.

Geto bites back a sigh and instead, pinches the bridge of his nose. He supposes that despite your improved mannerisms, your clumsiness still has yet to dissipate. Annoyed, he grunts out, “One of my new assistants.”

Shaking his head, Geto decides to deal with you later. His home is already suffocated with one individual, he doesn’t need another clogging the atmosphere up. He returns his attention back to Shigemo. “I thought I told you to leave,” he states, shoving his bag towards him.

Shigemo’s face paints a horrified expression once again. “Geto, please rethink this,” Shigemo pleads. 

He lets out a chain of pleads and excuses for himself as Geto essentially escorts him out with just walking towards him, his face still icy. Shigemo ends up on the other side of the door to his penthouse and it’s there where his patheticness exudes the most—he falls on his hands and knees like a beggar, claiming he’d do anything and everything just to be by his side. 

But his voice is suddenly cut short when Geto finally slams the door in his face, the thickness of them guarding him from Shigemo’s whines. He lets out another sigh and locks up the door securely before dealing with the other parasite in his house.

“I don’t think dropping off a book should take longer than thirty seconds,” Geto drawls as he saunters towards the living room, where you’re still on all fours on the floor, your hands tapping around. “So tell me, why are you still here?”

At the sound of his sharp tone, you freeze. You’re sure you looked utterly stupid and a mess right now, considering that you had just lost a fight to an ottoman out of all things, but you couldn’t let Geto see you in such a state. It didn’t take you long to realize that the reason why everything around you looked so blurry was because of your now-missing glasses that you attempted to look around for. But you pulled a Velma, and just like her, you can’t see without your glasses.

Everyone thinks it’s an exaggeration when you state that you felt utterly naked without them, but you truly did. You’ve been wearing glasses ever since childhood and you really didn’t appreciate the looks you had gotten when you were younger when at times you’d take them off. Some complained that your eyes were too small, too big—others mentioned you looked “off” and “weird” without them. Either way, comments from the other children stuck with you like scars, and ever since then, you refused to be seen without them. 

“I a-apologize,” you stutter, shuffling your body to hide behind the recliner so Geto wouldn’t see how much of a clutter you are. You’ve humiliated yourself too much already in the office and the last thing you truly need is for you to get fired merely because your curiosity got the better of you. “I was about to head out and th-then I heard your voice from upstairs and—”

Your words fall deaf on Geto’s ears. He lets out another groan while stretching the aching muscles in his neck as he closes in on your disorderedness. A hand goes to shield your face—you don’t want him to see the bareness of your face, especially since you didn’t bother wearing makeup today. You can’t even bear the thought of him looking at it. In a rushed state, you wander around for your glasses with your head tucked in, using the remnants of your hair to curtain your face.

A jumble of excuses tumble out of your quivering lip, but Geto is too preoccupied with the gleam of something catching his eye. Laying flat on the floor are a pair of glasses that doesn’t take Geto long to presume who they belong to. He plucks them from the ground and examines them for a brief moment before holding them above you. 

“I assume these are yours,” he asserts with a cocked brow.

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice directly right above you and through your foggy field of vision is the seraphic figure of Geto holding what seems to be your glasses. Lips escaping a relieved gasp, you hurriedly scramble to your feet. Your eyes are too poor to see it properly, but Geto also shares surprise, but for an entirely different reason.

He doesn’t give you the sanity that is your glasses right away, because he’s much too preoccupied studying your face. It’s so… fresh. Your glasses were hiding such a view, like curtains to a window that unveiled the utmost rare and breathtaking sights. The way your eyes are wide open, pupils blown with a touch of singularity makes him even more intrigued because of how they’re uniquely placed onto your face along with the rest of your features. Your lips, plump with a natural sheen to them—your cheekbones, perfectly rounded. The slope of your nose fell just right. Geto studies it like an artist to a blank canvas, devoid of anything yet holding just the perfect amount of space—wanting, waiting to be filled with anything and everything.

When his eyes stare at you in what seems to be bewilderment, you swallow thickly and look away. But you can only glance at your surroundings for less than a second before Geto takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your face toward him again. It’s then that you realize that Geto isn’t staring at you, but your face as a whole. His eyes flick with small movements, dancing about as they go from eyebrow to lips, freckle to lash, examining each and every single particle that your face has to offer.

You feel a heat creep onto your cheeks. You’re not sure whether it’s because of the closeness you and him share or the fact that you can’t detect his opinions on the one thing you’ve been disclosed about for years, but either way, you feel weak in the knees; it only worsens when Geto’s thumb brushes over the entirety of your bottom lip, feeling the plushness of it on his the pad of his finger.

“Has your face always been this open…?” he murmurs softly as he studies the various angles of your face. 

You aren’t sure whether it’s a compliment or insult, either or neither. Geto’s tone always had a sort of bleakness to it, but in this very moment, you truly can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

“My glasses…” is all you manage to squeak out, fighting the urge to squirm in his grasp. Another gulp goes down your dry throat when Geto’s face contorts to an irritated confusion before he realizes his other hand holds the one thing dear to your heart. 

“Oh,” he mutters and hands them back to you. His opposing hand finally goes to release your face. “Right.”

Shaking hands go to put them back onto your face again. Sighing internally of relief of your now crystal-clear surroundings, you dust yourself off with your head once more, tucked into your chest. 

“I’m so sorry for this,” you whisper. The heat on your face has now spread to the entirety of your body, your nerves alight with the rush of adrenaline. “I-I’ll make sure this never happens again… good night.”

With that, you scurry yourself out before Geto has the chance to falter. All words to urge you to stay to either scold you or excuse you evaporate on his tongue. He can only watch in a strange silence as your figure rushes down the hall and out the doors, the click of them ringing out in his penthouse.

After moments of self-paralysis, an unknown feeling boils inside the pit of Geto’s stomach. He thinks he’s seen your face before with the familiarity of it unsettling him. The ghost of your face prances about in his mind as he slowly climbs the stairs to his sewing room, ignoring the shattered wine glass on the floor thrown by Shigemo. He instead, refills his own glass again with the nearby bottle of merlot wine and savoring the thickness of it running down his dry throat, embellishing in its warmth.

A single, large window faces the busy nighttime street and Geto walks and stills near it, watching carefully as the speck of your figure on the street below calls for a cab. He eyes how you turn towards the building one more time, doing your usual adjustment of your glasses (it’s a habit you often do in times of nervousness, he’s picked up) before you shuffle yourself into a cab that speeds off into the night.

Geto lets out an annoyed click of his tongue. Something about your face seems haunting and he doesn’t enjoy it. The last thing that he needed for today was even more plaguing thoughts in his head after the loss of his muse not even just ten minutes ago, but now with your face staining the back of his head, his jaw grits in irritation. In a poor attempt to take his mind off the excursion of today and the future, he shuffles about his many sketchbooks to look for any designs he could pluck out for his latest collection. 

It’s an hour in, two glasses of wine later, and somehow, he still hasn’t found a single piece to begin working on that fits into his theme. Miraculously, through the vast array of what is thought to be thousands of sketches, Geto hasn’t found one that stood out to him until he gets to the last sketchbook. It’s an early one—he thinks it dates back to his early college days, when he was just beginning to peek into the world of fashion. A pang of nostalgia hits him all of a sudden when he flips to a specific page that was the start of his history.

It’s the very design that had the attention of many designers. The sketch featured a gold and red embellished outfit, a sheen of glittering flickers adorning it. The shirt features a mosaic of gold and small flecks of color here and there, imitating the many church mosaics he’d often admired as a child. The skirt and collar of the shirt were the same shade of blood red, crimson gems bespeckling them. 

It’s not the outfit, however, that makes his eyes harden. Why would it? He’s seen it many times before. It’s been brought up over and over again—in interviews, in magazines. It’s one of the staples that made Geto the pillar that he is. He knows every detail of it, much like his other designs, so it isn’t the design of the outfit that made him appalled. It’s instead, the person that’s wearing it. 

Because somehow, the eerie sketch of the model’s face that he had drawn years ago…

… somehow replicates your own face perfectly.

a/n: first jjk fic in forever! wowie it's been much too long... also if u need a refresher on who shigemo is, he's the guy with the ponytail that nanami pulled kekeke

10.2k is hefty i know but i couldn't help myself my bad lolol T_T currently just a test run of what i hope to be is a series that some may be interested in because clearly this barely scratches the surface of what i want to embed haha so please let me know how you like it so far :))

continuing, i hope you enjoyed and thank you for taking time out of your day to enjoy my craft, whether it be your first time or your hundredth! once more, likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and are always appreciated (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ !!!

[atsumulogy]

synopsis: kdrama cliches & tropes u would experience w/ ur haikyuu boys.

pairing(s): various x gn!reader

content warning: mentions of being drunk, pinch of angst at the bonus end, wrist grabbing, mentions of a fight

naia’s footnote: first post 4 this blog … Feeling: Nervous 😹this probably a bit ooc but let me live! also?? the read more thingy gives me these stupid glitches and i had to redo this for so many times

likes & reblogs are appreciated!

PIGGY BACK RIDES — scenario wherein you probably got injured or got too tired to walk and he carries you on his back (either begrudgingly or happily, either way you’re both warmer than usual in the face but no one says anything.)

→ BOKUTO, tsukishima(is part of the begrudgingly part, you’re probably too tired to walk or injured and he’s totally NOT worried about you okay? he just finds your whining annoying and wants you to shut up.) noya, asahi, aran, kita, akaashi, daichi, aone.

FORCED COHABITATION — you guys probably hate each other, and somehow, someway, you guys end up in a situation where you guys have to live together. this was not a part of his or your plans, but so is falling in love with each other but i guess fate has other plans!

→ SAKUSA, atsumu, shirabu, semi (you think he plays his guitar way too loud not knowing it’s the chords of the song he wrote about you)

CONFESSION OF FEELINGS BUT … — either you or he fell asleep, blackout drunk or just sleepy as hell. or he gets interrupted before he confesses by a phone call that will lead to many scenarios from misunderstandings to an emergency that will set back the confession a few more episodes until he actually gets to confess. or at this point, you have to be the one to confess because things just won’t go his way!

→ OIKAWA (LMAO, wanna see him suffer), ennoshita, kyotani, iwaizumi, goshiki, makki, tanaka, asahi, hinata, lev, atsumu, kuroo.

SHARING AN UMBRELLA — it rains but you forgot your umbrella, and he so happens to have one with him. and somehow you and him end up under his umbrella, close proximity as you could literally feel his hot breath and he wonders if you could hear his heart beat drumming like he just ran a whole mile. he would angle the umbrella in a way that you wouldn’t get wet by the rain while his shoulders soaking wet but it’s okay, as long as you’re fine and dry he doesn’t mind getting wet by the rain <3 (bonus if next day he gets sick and you visit him and take care of him AND maybe an almost kiss happening … 😁)

→ AKAASHI, KITA, semi, goshiki, tanaka, yamamoto, kuroo

WRIST GRABS — grabs your wrists to get you to talk to him because you walked out on him OR OR HE GRABS YOUR WRISTS BECAUSE HE GOT JEALOUS WITH THE GUY YOU’RE TALKING TO OR (they try not to be as forceful or harsh tho ☹️)

→ iwaizumi, osamu, suna, yaku, kyotani, tsukishima, kageyama, oikawa, atsumu, kuroo (?) atp i’m just saying anyone that comes into my mind LMAO

OLD CHILDHOOD FRIENDS THAT MEET AGAIN (AND FALL IN LOVE) — okay so you guys either remember each other not, but that really doesn’t matter in the end because either way, you guys would end up together. hashtag fated soulmates!

→ ushijima (I JUST FEEL LIKE HE COULD FIT THIS TROPE .. or probably he reminds of this male lead in a kdrama i watched with this trope LOL), sakusa, noya, oikawa, tendou.

SHOULDER NAP — he falls asleep in your shoulders, whether he meant to or not won’t change the fact that you could hear the beat of your heart increasing, your breath hitching, and suddenly the room feels hotter than ever.

or you fall asleep in his shoulder and suddenly he can’t move a single muscle anymore, but it’s fine, he thinks, as you nuzzle yourself unconsciously into his neck.

→ SUNA, kenma, kyotani (you fall asleep on his shoulders and instead of pushing you off him, he lets you sleep there and glares at anyone who stares at you guys.), kageyama, tsukishima.

BONUS: THE LOVE TRIANGLE TROPE — my guilty pleasure but also my most behated trope ever.

the male lead — the one who got the love interest in the end.

→ oikawa, tsukishima (it’s giving asshole male lead but gets the girl in the end anyway!), bokuto, terushima, tanaka, kageyama, atsumu, osamu, shirabu, goshiki, ushijima

the second lead — probably deserves the love interest as much as the male lead OR probably deserves the love interest more LMAO

→ akaashi (he treats the love interest so well and he just?? loves them sm?? even though he’s not the one that they picked?? crying he doesn’t even expect anything from them. he's the type of second lead every viewer was rooting for), iwaizumi, kindaichi, lev, yamamoto, and if i say suna, ennoshita, noya, konoha, koganegawa, semi, kawanishi

[bleach-your-panties]

⇰INTRODUCING, AN OFFICIAL BYP🌹🌸 COLLABORATION EVENT...

...."BLONDES HAVE MORE FUN!"❀

⋱♡full collab info post ⇰here!

Deadline: MAY 31, 2024 (not a hard deadline!)

🎀Posts🎀:

♥︎Tokyo Revengers:

Chifuyu Matsuno @bleach-your-panties

Ken Ryuguji "Draken" @sin-and-punishment

🎀nsfw, smut |🎀fem reader

Shion Madarame @sin-and-punishment

🎀nsfw, smut | 🎀fem reader

Jeez Louise - Ken Ryuguji "Draken" x Emma Sano, Manjiro Sano "Mikey" x Reader (group sex) @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw, smut |🎀fem reader |🎀foursome |🎀fxf action

Takuya Yamamoto @ranspuppy

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Tetta Kisaki @bleach-your-panties

Rindou Haitani @prncessrindou

✿Bleach:

Ran Haitani @ksakiswh0re-xo

Wakasa Imaushi @ranspuppy

🎀rating tbd

Izuru Kira @bleach-your-panties

🎀nsfw, smut | 🎀fem reader

Rose Otoribashi @semisgroupie

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd

Shinji Hirako @seireiteihellbutterfly

🎀nsfw | 🎀thick, fem reader

♥︎Hunter x Hunter:

Kurapika Kurta @bleach-your-panties

Shalnark @ranspuppy

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Phinks @ranspuppy

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Pakunoda @ranspuppy

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✿Jujutsu Kaisen:

Kento Nanami x2 @ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater

Kento Nanami @seireiteihellbutterfly

🎀nsfw | 🎀thick fem reader

Rosé and Bubble Gum - Yuuji Itadori @bleach-your-panties

🎀suggestive | 🎀fem reader | 🎀black-coded

Yuuji Itadori - @bleach-your-panties

♥︎Genshin Impact:

Thoma @ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater

Albedo @ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater

✿Attack on Titan:

Armin Arlert @stopisa

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd

Friends with Benefits - Reiner Braun @/shujistars-archived

🎀nsfw, smut | fem reader

Armin Arlert @sunarc

🎀nsfw | 🎀 more tbd

♥︎My Hero Academia:

Katsuki Bakugo @bakugosbratx

🎀nsfw| 🎀dark content

Mirio Togata @bleach-your-panties

✿Blue Lock:

Ryosuke Kira @bleach-your-panties

Ryusei Shidou @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd |🎀fem reader

♥︎Haikyuu!!:

Kei Tsukishima @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd | 🎀fem reader

Kenma Kozume @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd | 🎀fem reader

Kentarou Kyoutani @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw |🎀fem reader

✿Fairy Tail:

Laxus Dreyar @bleachbrainrotbro

🎀sfw |🎀male reader

♥︎One Piece:

Sanji Vinsmoke @chrollohearttags

✿Death Note:

Mihael Keehl "Mello" @bleach-your-panties

[dira333]

To be loved is to be changed - Kisame x Reader

Words 4,9k

Angst and Fluff, Canontypical Violence and Death mentioned - requested by @snuggleboots for the Follower Celebration

Soul Mates

Two people bonded over time and distance, who are able to communicate via thoughts. Unlike the Yamanaka Family Jutsu, sight or Chakra usage is not needed. It has been reported that the two parts of the bond do not have to know each other before activating the bond.

The first ever documented case was reported in Yugakure. The subjects noted that they could only hear the voice of their partner the moment one of them turned eighteen. 

Ever since then it has been hard to find test subjects since the existence of a bond can only be proven after they’ve turned eighteen.

Soul Bonds are not a genetic inheritance, since their existence is not inherited, as the Hyuuga-Study proved. They can also not be transferred, as a study from Iwagakure proved.

It has proven wise, however, to eliminate bonds between different Nations since the bond can be used to transfer state secrets, willingly or unwillingly. 

Most female bond partners die shortly after the male bond partner has been eliminated, as an extensive Study from Konohagakure, Orochimaru, showed.

-

It had been business as usual.

A Shinobi life did not offer much chance for celebration. A birthday is nothing more than a way to calculate age. Kisame knew people who celebrated every day they survived, but he’d never been one for celebration. He certainly didn’t learn it from his parents.

His shoes are filled with liquid and he doesn’t bother to check if it is blood or water. It had been raining all day, making the mission harder for his opponents and a hella lot more fun for him.

But he’s hungry, and cold, and he could use a bed instead of the damp ground.

He’s still pretty far from Kirigakure, but he remembers a small village he had come by a few days earlier and directs his feet toward the approximate location.

Soaring through the air, the rain pelting his face, he wonders what time it is. Not that it matters, but he was born around four p.m., something his father liked to remind him of because his mother had missed making lunch because of his birth.

A branch snaps under his foot and he topples through the air, cursing loudly as he manages to land on a different tree. A shiver runs down his back but before he can think too much about it, he can hear a voice, sweet and distinctly female.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” He turns around, and squints through the rain. He’s pretty sure he’s alone.

“Are you a Yamanaka? I heard about your Jutsu!”

“What the hell is a Yamanaka? Where are you? Show yourself?”

“I’m in the middle of the street, how can you not see me? You’re the one who started cursing at me!”

“What the- I wasn’t cursing!”

“Oh, of course you were! I’ve never heard such foulmouthery before! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” The voice is sweet and young, but the choice of words is a bit old-fashioned for his taste.

“My mother is dead.” He waits, can’t help the smug grin when the voice falters in its reprimand.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! When did it happen? And how? Are you okay?”

“Easy there, just tell me where you’re hiding and we’re going to get this over with.”

“Again, I am not hiding. But since you’re so blind, obviously, I am going to walk across the street and into the bakery. Can you see me? Can I see you?”

“What bakery?” Kisame’s pretty sure he’s still a long way off any bakeries.

“The main one, you know. Yamamoto’s golden bread, right at the main road.”

“What village?”

“What village? Are you kidding me? What village could I be talking about?”

Something heavy, most likely the truth, settles in Kisame’s gut. His feet suddenly feel a lot less sturdy and he lowers himself until he’s sitting securely on the thick branch.

“What time is it?”

“It’s a bit after four p.m. why? Are you okay?”

“Have you ever heard about soulmates?”

There’s Silence and it’s shocking how unwelcome it is all of a sudden. He hadn’t known a different voice in his head before, but its absence feels so utterly unwelcome now.

“You there?”

“Yeah, I’m just… Are you saying you’re my soulmate?”

“I guess so.”

“That means you just turned eighteen.”

“Guess so.”

“Oh, don’t give me that, you know how old you are, right?”

He laughs, can’t help it. You’re a whole other thing when you’re being sassy with him.

“What does it matter? It was nice meeting you. I will make sure not to bother you again.”

“Wait! WAIT!”

“What?” He blinks into the rain. This, this whole Soulmate thing, is just a big fat joke. Fate hates him, and always has. A Shinobi can hardly hold up a relationship as it is, no less a happy one. A Soulmate Relationship? Where your partner's life is bound to yours to the point that you cannot survive without your other half? That’s just cruel.

“What’s your favorite cake flavor?”

“What?”

“Cake. What kind do you like most.”

“I don’t know. We don’t have much cake here. What’s yours?”

“I like Chocolate Cake. Would it be okay if I got one? For you? For today.”

“You can do whatever you want. I don’t care.”

-

He keeps the promise he gave himself.

He does not bother you. Well, at least he will as soon as he figures out how not to talk to you. 

You, however, have no qualms in talking to him.

“Today I got plums. I love plums. I’m going to make a Plum Pudding for my Grandmother, and some jam for my neighbors and if there’s something left over, I’ll make a cake with it. Do you like Plums? What’s your name anyway? Is it Ume? Like Plum? Or do you have purple hair?”

He’s pretty sure you’re not Shinobi. A Shinobi would not act so casually with a Soulmate bond. They are trained to be cautious about any attempt of espionage but you don’t seem to care that you blabber out too much that he should not know.

You’re from Konohagakure, it seems. Your parents died young and you’re raised by your grandmother, hence the old-fashioned way of talking. You like to bake and cook and play good housewife, but sometimes, when you pass a Shinobi on the street, you wonder how their life is. If you could be good at something that is dangerous. Something your grandmother carefully keeps you shielded from.

Your voice is as sweet as the jam you keep blabbering about. 

He wonders, not for the first time, how you look like. Are you as plump as the women of Yura? Thin and elegant like the people in Ishi? Maybe you like to put on colorful makeup and dance around in wild clothing like the people of Kimmun? 

Whatever you look like, he cannot imagine your body next to his, your life entwined with the one he leads.

Kirigakure has gotten scarier and he’s growing fed up with orders that make no sense, superiors who are more corrupt than the criminals he’s paid to bring in.

***

On your eighteenth birthday, you see the sun rise over an ocean. It’s a breathtaking view and you enjoy it from the safety of your bedroom, the windows facing the forest.

You’re not sure if your soulmate is a quiet man or simply has the self-discipline of a god. 

He rarely ever answers your questions, lets nothing slip beside a lot of curse words. But his dreams are vivid and wether he does it willingly or without his knowledge, he shares them with you.

You know they have to be his dreams. You’ve never traveled further than the next Village outside of Konoha. But you dream of lush landscapes, of mountains that pierce the sky, of the sea stretching further than your eyes can reach, of a village hidden in the mist.

He must be from Kirigakure. And while he kept quiet, you’ve read everything about Soulmates you could get your hands on. Most Hidden Villages demand of their population to come forward as soon as their Bond is forged. And while you’ve not heard of a execution in years, you don’t want to know what would happen to you if it got known that your Soulmate is from Kirigakure.

And a Shinobi too.

Some nights his dreams are gruesome and you wake up crying, your mind filled with pictures of dead comrades, of heavy rain that washes away the blood.

He never answers after that and you wonder what he feels about your bond. Is it guilt or would he rather have someone else?

But everytime you tell yourself to give this up, to stop your stories, to let his silence be silence, the wall he’s put up crumbles.

Like today. When he thinks of the ocean and allows you to see it too.

-

“I got a Kunai.” You tell him, the weapon heavy in your satchel. “Will you tell me how to use it?”

“Why do you need to know?” It’s been days since you’ve last spoke. You’re a little surprised that he’s answering.

“I want to be able to defend myself.”

“You’ll do more harm than good with a Kunai.”

“Don’t belittle me.”

“I’d never.” There’s sincerity in his voice. Exhaustion too.

“Bad timing?”

“Hide that Kunai away. Don’t use it until I tell you how. First you need to learn how to use your Chakra.”

“Should we do that later? You probably want to rest.”

“It’s okay.” You wonder what he’s doing right now. Does he sit down to focus on you or is he on the move? You think of him, a voice without a body, tucked into a bed and feel his amusement.

“That is new.” You comment. “I could feel your feelings.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.” You interrupt him. “I want to know you.”

“I don’t want you to know me.”

“Oh…” He must feel it too, the pang of disappointment going through you, because he rushes to apologize.

“It’s better for you. Safer. I’m sorry you’re bound to me. I know if I die, you’ll most likely die too, but I don’t have to drag you down. As long as I am alive, somewhere far away from you, you can lead a happy, easy life.”

“Do you think I could love another men with your voice in my head?”

Silence. No matter how much you call, he does not answer.

-

Two weeks after your eighteenth birthday a pair of Shinobi knocks on your grandmothers door. 

You’re in the kitchen stirring a pot of compote, but your grandmothers quivering voice pulls you away from the stove. She sounds scared.

“Sit down,” you tell her, her frail shoulders shaking under your hands as you lead her to the kitchen table. “I will handle this.”

“But-”

“It’s all good, obaa-chan. The Shinobi work to help us. Drink some water, it’s all good.”

You return to the door, the woman already inside your house.

“I’m sorry, her health isn’t the best. How can we help you?”

“It’s just a checkup.” The woman smiles but it’s not a friendly smile. “You turned eighteen recently and you got quite a few books from the library, yet you never came to the office to register your soulmate.”

“Oh, of course.” You nod, for the first time glad that your Soulmate is so keen on keeping quiet. “I understand. Sadly I do not have a soulmate. I was hoping I would have one, since my parents were Soulmates, but the books were right. It cannot be inherited.”

“I’m afraid we cannot go by your word alone.”

“I understand.” You nod again. “What do you require me to do?”

The two of them stare you down and you blink up at them innocently. You might not be a Shinobi or have any talents beyond following recipes, but you certainly know how to lie.

“That will suffice.” The man nods curtly. “Sorry about the bother.”

“Oh, of course. Do you want to stay for some tea? I am just making a new batch of cake if you want to stay or come back later for a slice.”

“We cannot stay.”

“I understand. But please don’t hesitate to come back later. It was always important to our family to feed the Shinobi.”

“Why?” The woman puts her hand on her partners arm, halts him in his movements as she stares you down. You wonder what she’s thinking. She’s clearly not trusting you.

“We are only able to live in safety because of the Shinobi’s work. My mother was too sickly to work as a Shinobi and my father was a tradesperson and they instructed me to always be thankful for the hard work of the Shinobi. I wouldn’t dare to disappoint them.” You bow.

“I always wanted… to train too. But I do not have any talent, it seems.” You look at the floor in a show of shame and that seems to pacify them for good.

“There is no cake needed.” They agree quietly. “But thank you for the offer.”

The door closes behind them, but you don’t trust it to keep you safe. You heard of Shinobi who can see through walls, so you don’t dare to exhale in relief and instead keep yourself as busy as you would normally, tell your grandmother in a cheerful tone all about the conversation.

“Oh, I am so sorry that you do not have a Soulmate.” She clutches her chest as she speaks. “It was so lovely for your mother to find your father.”

“Like I’d ever leave you.” You tell her and she pulls you down to kiss your temple before leaving for another nap. She’s been tired a lot these last weeks.

***

“I want to see you.” Kisame shudders at your words. But no, it’s not the words but your longing. He can feel it so intensely, that he’s no longer sure if it’s yours or his.

Life has gotten lonely as a Missing-Nin, his Hitai-Ate no longer a thing he wears with pride.

He’s been building a home, telling himself that it’s meant just to house him and no one else, but his body betrays his mind when he builds it large enough to house a family. 

Yet, how can he tell you about it? How can he take you from Konoha, the safe village you grew up in, the arms of your grandmother, to a house on the shore with no neighbors 

“It’s not safe.” He tries to answer, but you’ve gotten better at getting him to answer.

“I’ve gotten better. I can already walk on water! I barely miss any more when I throw a Kunai. Please, I just want to see you!”

He doesn’t say no, cannot bring himself to accept the reality so how could he convince you?

But he dreams of you, of all the bits and pieces he’s gotten to know in the last five years. 

-

“I’m going to be in Kimmun next month.” You tell him a few days later, resolve audible in your thoughts. “It’s at the edge of the border. I’m going to be there for at least two days and there are plenty of hostels that won’t look too closely at either of us if we pay good money for a room.”

Anxiety closes up his throat. Kisame knows those hostels well enough, has killed in more than one of them.

“You will not go near them, do you understand me? I’ve got my ways, I can get into any room you could stay in.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Okay.” You give in easy. Too easy. He realizes why a few days later when you pick the topic back up, intent on making sure he knows exactly how much you want to see him.

He should feel flattered and he would, maybe, if not for the forbidden Jutsu that he took with him when he left Kirigakure. The Jutsu that transformed his body in more ways than one. 

No matter how sweet you are, no matter how much you’re supposed to be suited for him, can he really expect you to be fine with that?

-

Kimmun is lovely at this time of the year. The streets are bustling with people to the point hardly anyone takes notice of him.

It’s an important time for a merchant like you when everyone’s offering and you have to have a good eye and a quick mind to gather the best of the best.

Kisame spots you easily. You’re like a Sakura Tree in a field of wildflowers, all the colors in the world doing nothing but emphasizing your beauty.

You work alone and he wonders when you started, how you convinced your grandmother to let you. You don’t seem a novice anymore, he can see it in the way your eyes seem to catch everything, how you won’t let even the most charming seller convince you to buy something you don’t want.

He follows you up to the Hotel you’re staying in, not too cheap but not too fancy either. As the day turns into night he can see you at the window, looking out into the darkness. You’re obviously waiting for him and he wonders when he turned this way, when the fearsome warrior became a man following the mere wishes of a woman.

But you’re different, aren’t you? You were picked to be with him or maybe he was picked to be with you, either way, it’s a cruel choice for either of you. 

It’s best to get this all over with, so he moves even when he dreads it. He didn’t get out of Kirigakure because he was too shy, or unwilling to get uncomfortable.

…

“Close your eyes.” Your back is turned to the window - a grave mistake he will have to make you unlearn. But no, he will not, because this will end here.

“You’re here.” You say, and your voice is filled with too much delight. It makes him feel sick.

“Whatever.” He mutters before he can say “Of Course.” 

“Can I look?” You ask, hands over your eyes as you move from one foot to the other.

He puts Samehada down, closes the window behind him, and draws the curtain closed. Anxiety pools cooly in his stomach but he nods first and confirms loudly second.

His eyes are on you, can’t look away no matter how much he wants to. He doesn’t miss one second of your reaction. He waits for the disappointment, for the giddiness to flake at the edges. But you curl your hands into fists in front of you and look up at him as if he hung the moon and the stars. 

“What are you looking at?” He asks, his voice a bit too harsh. You’re too delicate to be treated this way, no matter his feelings.

“Can I hug you?”

…

When he wakes up from a nap he didn’t mean to take, your head rests on his chest and his water clone looks over with envy written over his face.

“Get one yourself,” he tells his clone, which is childish, but there’s no one to witness it but himself.

You’re a warm weight, your presence enough to convince him to stay in bed. No one’s been following him, he tells himself, he can enjoy this short time with you.

And even though he knows that he shouldn’t, that he should get as far away from you as possible, for his sake as much as yours, he finds himself bound to you through more ways than one. There’s the look in your eyes when you wake up, or the way you hold onto his hand when he pulls away - just to brush his teeth, okay - or how you insist on getting breakfast in bed and lean in to kiss jam from the corner of his mouth.

By the time another evening rolls around he’s lost sight of who’s the dangerous one of the two of you. You know what you want - him - and he’s never been able to say no to you, it seems. Not when Kisame wants you just as much, not when he’s never gotten anything that belonged to him and only him, before. 

He wants to take you home, to the almost-finished house at the shore. 

For you, he’d become a merchant or a stay-at-home Dad. 

He tells you, whispers it into each kiss until he’s sure you know, repeats it in the realm that houses just the two of you, and tells you over and over again even as you sleep to the point that he knows you dream of him too.

And Kisame’s convinced, he knows it must be, that he will not leave this town without you…

Until one of his Clones goes down, alerting him of the imminent danger.

He needs to leave, right now, when the morning is not even a thought yet in the minds of this city, when your head rests easy right over his heart.

Kisame needs to leave you behind, because there are at least three high class Nin looking for him and if he cannot lead them away from the city, divert their attention with a fight, they will keep looking and they will find you. 

He might not want to leave, but he will if it’s the one thing that keeps you safe.

So he does.

***

The bed feels empty when you wake up. His sword is gone from where it leaned against the window sill. Your mind is empty too and there’s no note left out for you to find. When you call out his name, out loud and in your head, you don’t get an answer. 

You want to wait, tie yourself to your bed until he shows up again, until he at least answers your questions in your head, but you’ve came here with a group of other merchants - for safety reasons - and you’re expected to leave today, having only a few hours to spare. 

So you make yourself go through the motions, wash the memories off your body as best as you can and leave Kimmun so unlike you’ve entered it.

Gone is the hope and anticipation. With every hour spent without his voice in your mind you feel surer of his decision. 

To you it might have been a beginning. To him it was an end.

-

One week after your return your grandmother has to be hospitalized.

You hold her hand as she fights for breathe after breathe, as her heart stutters to a stop. 

You don’t cry when her body burns, when all that’s left of her is ash and bone shards, happy memories and the ghost of her kiss, the feeling of her lips pressed to your temple or her hands folded around yours as she teaches you.

You return to your now empty house, wondering when you turned this resilient, this cold.

They say that to be loved is to be changed, but in your case it has to be different. Loving Kisame has changed you. You wonder if you changed him too, even just a little.

-

Work consumes you. 

There’s no time to bake, no time to make jams. 

You don’t dare stop to taste the plums, fearing it will unravel you at the seams.

They say one woman can’t manage a whole business alone, so you smile and nod and ask for their assistance, collect their money and open another shop in Kimmun, because why not? 

You keep yourself busy until you search for a painkiller and find your tampons, unopened, unused in, what… a month? Two?

That’s when you break, because what are you supposed to do?

You’re unmarried, have no relationship to name and your business is riding on your good reputation.

It’s on the bathroom floor, hugging your knees like a little girl, that you call out to Kisame for the first time in weeks, call upon his name like he’s God and you’re the sinner.

-

His response is the view of moldy ceiling, the wooden boards covered with black spots.

“What?!” Even your inner voice breaks with confusion.

Memories flood your mind after that. 

Running from Kimmun, someone following closely. A fight. Blood, so much blood.

Intense pain shoots through your left leg. A nameless nurse taking care of you.

“Where are you?” You ask.

“I’m hiding.” He says. “I’m not even sure this place has a name.”

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“I couldn’t. I had to focus on the fight and by the time I could answer you’d gone silent.”

“So? You could have called out to me first.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounds sincere. Not for the first time you curse your connection. You can tell that he means it.

“What happened?” He asks.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence follows, but it is not empty. You can feel his doubts wage war on him.

“Is it mine?” He asks, voice quiet, almost subdued.

“Of course it is yours!”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Take me with you. Please! I am all alone here and we could live together, right? I don’t care where we’d be, just let us be together, anywhere is fine.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I care.”

“If you die, I die. It will always be dangerous.”

“Let me think about it. I want to, I do, but we need to be smart about this.”

“I love you.”

He does not say it back. But you can see what he sees, your head resting on his chest back in Kimmun, your hands joined together. And that is just as good as hearing those three words.

***

Your growing belly is hidden beneath a wide skirt.

You have not complained once since the two of you left Kimmun in the early morning hours.

It will take months for those back in Konoha to learn that you sold your shares in Kimmun too, just like you did with all of your belongings in Konoha. By then it will be impossible to find a trace of you, to hear even a faint whisper of what happened with the lone young girl coming from the village.

The scars on his leg have healed up. Kisame feels no pain as he lifts you up and carries you over the threshold like one does with their new wife, the future mother of their children. Like his father should have done with his mother. Like your father has done with your mother.

He’s twenty-four, a criminal by the laws of Kirigakure, and a Soulmate by the laws of nature. He’s a husband, a homeowner and in a few months, he’s going to be a father too.

Your savings will keep you two afloat for quite some time and there’s a small village a few hours by foot, that will sell them whatever they could need.

He’s not yet convinced that this can last, that you can be happy in a place as lonely as this, that he can keep you safe, but he wants to try.

-

Mikio is six when he takes up the black coat with the red clouds. 

He doesn’t do it for the money and not for the name.

But the twins just turned three and you’re pregnant again, yet there have been Kiri-Nin asking for him in the village and he knows he cannot run forever.

Pain’s way might not be the nicest, but he promises peace. 

Is there anything he wouldn’t do to make sure you’ll be safe?

“Say goodbye to Papa.” You call out to Mikio who’s drying shells in the sun. The twins are running cirlces around him, probably thinking he’ll be back tomorrow from another trip to the neighbouring village. They don’t know yet about the meaning of missions, or how long three months really are.

But Mikio comes after you. He’s got a nose for things he shouldn’t know about.

“I don’t want you to go.” He says when Kisame steps closer. 

“I don’t want to go.”

“So don’t go.”

“‘s not as easy as that.”

Mikio looks away again.

“Listen.” Kisame kneels down beside him, aware how much he’s growing. He’s coming after him with his height. “I’m not going to tell you to look after Ma. That’s not your job. You’re a kid. I have to leave so that you can stay a kid until you grow up. That’s not easy, but I’m doing it for you.”

“Okay.”

“Can I have a hug goodbye?”

Mikio ponders it for a second before crawling into his lap. He’s much too big for that now, growing too heavy for it too, but there had never been a chance for this when Kisame had been a kid, so why should he deny his son something he’d never knew he could have for himself?

-

When he leaves, he takes your voice with you.

It follows him wherever he goes.

Kisame knows when you’re safe, he knows when you’re in trouble. 

Sometimes it’s the only thing keeping him sane.

To be loved is to be changed, you’d told him once when he’d complained about how his life had hardened you.

Kisame wonders how he’d have turned out without you.

He finds he doesn’t want to know.

[brittscafe]

Fluffvember 2023

Hi, welcome to Fluffvember!!! Where your life will be full of fluff and gushy nonsense :) For this event, I write for both, Bleach and Jujutsu Kaisen. I don't get a lot of requests for jjk, but I love writing for the characters! <3

Now, I'll only be doing the first 15 days, but I will have extra specials coming out later in the month :)

Day 1: Fluff headcanons for Jushiro, Byakuya, Szayel and Shunsui for a trans ftm s/o.

Day 2: Shunsui Kyoraku x f! reader where are both betrothed to one another, and after resisting Shunsui for years— the reader finally falls for his charm.

Day 3: Headcanons for Mayuri and Szayel with a fem reader who also likes the dark and macabre and thinks their experiments are cool.

Day 4: Gin Ichimaru, Safe in my arms.

Day 5: Kisuke Urahara, Flaws.

Day 6: Nanami Kento, comforting you when you're crying.

Day 7: Yuji Itadori, being alive.

Day 8: Gin with a masc s/o who likes wearing skirts and dresses.

Day 9: Pre tybw Male captains (not including Toshiro, Komamura and Yamamoto ) with male neko reader.

Day 10: Aizen Sosuke, comforting you after crying.

Day 11: Jushiro Ukitake, sleepy cuddles.

Day 12: Gojo Saturo, humor me.

Day 13:

Day 14:

Day 15:

Extras:

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

More about You | Yandere Tokyo Revengers x Male reader

The description is down below. This is also on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!

Description: Mentally Unstable Occult More about you: More about you | {You are here} Prologue: A Life Before Chapter 1: The Reality I've Been Searching for | TBW Chapter 2: You remind me so much of him | TBW Chapter 3: Blood Soaked Insanity | TBW

Name: y/n l/n

Birthday: y/b/d

Sexuality: Bisexual

Previou age: 17

Age: 15

Height: 5'7 

Appearance: H/L H/C hair, Shiny E/C eyes, S/T skin

Personality :Emotionally turned off, paranoid, anxious, mentally unstable, protective, violent, kind to those he deeply cares about, impulsive, apathetic, and funny

Other notes: Y/n can see ghosts from both his own world and the world he was reincarnated in. These ghosts keep Y/n safe and protects him from those who intend to hurt him, even if Y/n can fight those people physically. Y/n has a thing for fighting, and it brings a smile to his face when he feels the adrenaline kick in. Y/n has a younger brother names Lucas, and Lucas adores Y/n. Y/n has many exes due to trying to fill the empty hole in his heart, but none of them ever worked out and ended up leaving Y/n hurt even more. Y/n watches anime, kid shows, and listening to music as an escapism from his life and using those as a way to fantasize about the perfect life he will never have. Music keeps the ghosts that Y/n talks to from hurting others too much, but also lets them control those Y/n is fighting. Y/n fights to music as a way to ground himself, even though it may seem like it makes things worse. Y/n is a naturally violent fighter, so that is why there is blood shed every time, either from Y/n or the person he is fighting. 

Likes: Fighting, Music, Bluey, Studio Ghibli, Bojack Horseman the show, Anime, Tokyo Revengers, Crocs, Sweets, Isolating, knowing random ass facts, referencing stuff from his old world, and laying on the floor

Dislikes: Both his moms, his dad, his ex-boyfriend, sleeping, nighttime, silence, his brother, himself, feeling alone, the fact that he has to redo not only middle school, but high school too

Love interests:

Takemichi Hanagaki

Hinata Tachibana

Natoa Tachibana

Atsushi Sendo

Takuya Yamamoto

Sano Manjiro

Ken Ryuguji

Emma Sano

Nahoya Kawata (Smiley)

Souya Kawata (Angry)

Takashi Mitsuya

Shuji Hanma

Haruchiyo Sanzu

Rindou Haitani

Ran Haitani

Kazutora Hanemiya

Chifuyu Matsuno

Seishi Inui

Hajime Kokonoi

Izana Kurokawa

Kakucho Itto

Hakkai Shiba

Keisuke Baji

Wakasa Imaushi

Takeomi Akashi

Senju Akashi (Kawaragi)

Yuzuha Shiba

A/n: I may or may not have projected way to much on Y/n.. The stuff under the likes is very crucial to how Y/n see's the world and his coping. 

Picrew used

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Aquarium Meet Cute

You were just trying to give your team the day off. And then they disappeared. But atleast you met a cute guy?

Watari x reader

It was a day off for your team.

You don’t remember who even made the suggestion, but you found yourself tracking a team of giants through the Kanagawa Aquarium.

But you somehow managed to lose all of them but Yamamoto.

You cursed yourself under your breath, rubbing at your temples. “Why did I agree to manage this team? I bet the Red Falcons wouldn’t give me this much of a headache, Aran knows how to control his players.”

“You’d leave us?” You turned, seeing Yamamoto’s pouting face and sighed. He was declared your official team simp by the rest of VC Kanagawa, and honestly as much as it surprised his high school captain you found him the easiest to control because of it- but you didn’t know why he was surprised, you had gone to school with them. He always knew you weren’t interested, so he never truly pursued you, but he was also your best friend.

“No.” You sighed again, “I’m not going to leave you guys. Remember, the Sendai Frogs already offered me a position and I turned it down to stay with you.” You had to reach to pat him gently on the head, only to be caught off guard by a voice behind you.

“You may have dodged a bullet in turning that job down.” You spun, almost tripping over Yamamoto’s leg beside you, as you came face to face with a man wearing a uniform for the aquarium. A very cute man wearing a uniform for the aquarium. “An old high school teammate of mine plays for Sendai, he was… I don’t think there is a word to really cover how aggressive he is.”

Yamamoto snorted but tried to cover it up before muttering, “You’ve clearly never seen Y/N when we do things they don’t like.”

“Taketora.” You glared at him, “Watch it.” He nodded frantically, almost looking afraid to disagree, as you turned back to the worker, “I think I’ve met who you’re talking about, Kyotani?”

The man smiled again, nodding as he laughed, “We called him Mad Dog. Iwaizumi- our ace-“

“I know Iwa.” You laughed, “I’ve worked with him training these idiots.”

He nodded his head in understanding, “Iwa was the only one that could get to do anything, Yahaba seemed to learn for our third year though.”

You hummed, but Yamamoto laughed again, “Yeah, no, he tried to get in Y/N’s face because his spike couldn’t make it past their block, and Y/N shut him down and somehow managed to have him clean their gym. And then he came to our gym that weekend and cleaned it. Y/N had to scold the team so we’d stop watching in amazement.”

“Tora-“ you pinched your brow, getting ready to glare him into next week, when the cute guy laughed.

“That’s amazing. Where were you when I had to play with him?”

Yamamoto thumped your shoulder with his, with a big grin on his face, “Going to Nekoma with me.”

The former Seijoh player nodded, seeming to take a step back, “Fair point,” his smile seemed to turn more polite, “Well, I will let you get back to your date.”

“Oh, no-“ you snorted, Taketora looking only mildly hurt since he knew those feelings weren’t reciprocated, “No, we are not- this is not-“

He looked almost relieved, “My bad, I’m Watari, by the way.”

“There’s Y/N!” You turned to see Riseki rapidly approaching with Chigaya and Chita and the rest of the team in tow, “I told you we left them near the clownfish!”

“No surprise Yamamoto is still with them.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring them down as their steps slowed on their approach, “Boys-“

“Hey, we’re men! And-“ the words died on his tongue as you raised an eyebrow before you continued.

“Boys.” You repeated, looking into each of their faces, “You were given one warning before you got off the bus. Do not leave my presence. And what did you do?”

“Well we-“ Chigaya started, stepping forward and puffing his chest before your glare shot back to him and stepped back, “…we left your side.”

“And what does that mean now?” You heard snickering behind you, glancing to see Watari looking beyond amused before turning back to your team. And then you waited.

Yamamoto jumped like a puppy who’s owner just came home after a long day, “It means that whoever left your side has to clean the gym without your help, your office without your help, and coach’s office without your help for two weeks every day after practice.”

You patted his head again, “And as the only one that didn’t run away, you get to skip practice once without coach’s approval, seeing as he gave pre approval because he didn’t think anyone would stay with me, and you don’t have to help clean anything for those two weeks.”

“Dammit.” Riseki sighed, “I told you we were gonna be in major trouble.”

“You were the first to branch off!” Chita snapped back, not looking any less ashamed than he had before.

“To the bus.” You pointed toward the exit, “Now. And just for the record, I’ve never seen coach throw anything away. You’ll have your work cut out for you.”

Riseki stubbed his toe against the ground, the other patrons of the aquarium staring as you barked this group of towers out the door, “We aren’t children.”

“If you aren’t children, I guess we don’t need to stop for food on the way back.”

“No- what? We haven’t eaten since lunch!”

“Exactly.” You smirked, turning back to Watari, who looked beyond intrigued in what was happening, “Sorry. It was good to meet you, and I really wish I could stay but- CHITA YOU LEAVE YAMAMOTO ALONE! He is not the reason you’re in trouble!” You smiled apologetically, kicking the players you could reach as you followed them back to the bus. You sighed as you took your seat near the driver, “I can’t believe you jackasses. He was really cute too.”

“Hey, you made us leave.” One of them grumbled, only to shrink in his seat when you stood to look back at him.

You sank back into your own seat, crossing your arms over your chest and pondering the cute guy you could’ve tried and, probably, failed to hit on.

You were busy smirking with Yamamoto, who was too busy FaceTiming with Tanaka, as the rest of the team went about their new extra cleaning duties. Riseki poked his head out of your office, “Is there anything in here that we need to worry about when it comes to trash or like… personal things?”

“I locked all important papers in my desk, and all personal items have been stowed in my bag and at home.” You answered, “You are safe to clean it.”

“… Chita has decided that means trash everything.”

You shrugged, he wasn’t necessarily wrong, but before you could reply there was a knock echoing off the open gym door and you started speaking as you turned, “Hey! This is the official gym for VC Kanagawa, is there something I can do for-“

Your voice faded to nothing as you locked eyes with Watari, who offered an awkward wave but a sweet smile, “Hey, sorry, I got a call to come by here?”

Yamamoto’s head snapped up from his phone, “Hey country boy! Glad you could make it.”

Watari laughed, “Yeah, Tanaka gave me a call, too. Apparently I’m supposed to say ‘didn’t I say I’d be here, city boy?’”

Your best friend grinned, “I’m gonna give these guys a hand, you two talk.”

Watari laughed as Yamamoto shoved his way into your office, “He isn’t subtle, is he?”

“Not even a little bit.” You chuckled, “What made you come here exactly?”

He shrugged, “He called me, told me if I wanted a chance with you then I needed to come by, also told me if you granted me a chance with you he’d kill me before he watched me hurt you.”

“Aw,” you cooed jokingly, “he does care.”

“He does,” Watari grinned, “So how about that chance?”

You glanced back at your office, overstuffed with professional volleyball players that were already too big to fit more than two in there and were now stuck shoulder to shoulder as most of them crammed into the small room, before turning back, “Would you be interested in getting a coffee with me?”

He nodded his head to the players, “You don’t need to stay and watch them?”

You smirked, “You kidding? I told them they had to scrub that room spotless. There’s been a stain on that carpet that even professionals can’t get out that my predecessor put there. They’ll be here all night.”

Watari laughed brightly, “Amazing. Alright, my treat. There’s a great cafe down the street.”

You glanced back on your way out, Yamamoto meeting your gaze and shooting you a thumbs up.

Masterlist

[takuyas-boyfie]

Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did, pt 2

pt. 1

author's note: this may not have much revenge-y thoughts, its more of a flashback chapter, but dont worry they'll come. just one more sad chapter and bad bitch vibes will be present dw. also this was way longer than intended so enjoy!!!!!!!!!! also by the end it's a bit rushed as i didn't have a Segway from this chapter to the next so sorry!!!

“We need to talk to you” You heard Yamagishi scream that from the sidewalk. If you would’ve been honest, you thought that they’ve come to defend your asshole ex on his decision, and you would have none of that, you decided.

“Get off my house, I don’t wanna talk with anybody” You shrugged off loudly. Before you could close the balcony’s door, you heard Hinata shout.

“You want to know what happened don’t you?”

You stopped midway the door, now lurking your interest. Of course you wanted to know what happened, but you were still tired. “The key’s on the pot, come in but please stay in the living room, I still wanna sleep” You sighed.

Takuya was the one who reached to the pot resting on the window. Now all four of them were entering your house. One by one they left their shoes at the entrance, making themselves comfortable. Makoto immediately went to the fridge and grabbed a gelatin for him, and one for Yamagishi.

Hinata and Takuya were making their way upstairs to your room. The peachette was the one who knocked on the door first, hearing a groan as a response. “Please wait downstairs, im still sleepy” You babbled, wanting them to leave you alone.

Hinata, stubborn as ever, she hesitated and responded back “No (Y/N), you agreed to have the truth told to you, and that’s what I’m here for” You shifted in your bed “No.”

The peachette did not care and opened the door anyways. She and Takuya saw you lying in your bed, facing the wall. Both walked to your bed, sitting opposite of each other. The blond glanced at your resting body, gently carresing your hair strands. He sighed nervously.

“When we were in the club last night” He started to recite “A girl started to approach him”

Karen was now in front of Akkun, moving her ways sensually but still low. Her hips rocked left and right in a slow swaying movement, glancing back and forth towards Akkun’s face and pelvic area. Akkun, on the other hand, was staring hesitantly to the woman in front of him, his arms siding him, resting in the bar counter, his face starting to heat up from the alcohol he’s downed. Even though the rest of the division hadn’t come, he already had some beers down in his system.

Thoughts weren’t clear in his brain, so now he was grabbing this seemingly random girl’s waist. One hand was on his drink, and the other on the girl front of him, taking her closer to him. In a blur now they were both kissing. Karen was the one leading the moment, with Akkun following and mirroring her movements. Her lips were moving in a needy way, wanting him to make more moves himself.

She was pouring a beer down the space between both’s faces, not only tasting lips, feeling now the alcohol pounding their bloodstream. Karen stepped back a little bit, now looking at the man in front of her in a lustful manner. “Wanna go? I need to show you something” she insinuated, rubbing her lower abdomen, now sitting in the redhead’s lap, legs open, and pushing herself forwards. Akkun quickly took note of what she was implying, grabbing her from the waist, and making its way to exit the bar.

Mere seconds after they left, the rest of the first division arrived at the bar. Takuya happened to glance left of him, and saw a person who resembled Akkun sprinting towards the motel nearby, with appareantly someone in his arms. He shrugged it off at first, but when he entered the bar and saw no presence of Akkun in there, his interest peaked.

When he left the bar, the blond felt someone grab his arm. He saw Hinata, with a curious face and a deadly grip in him. “Oww Hinata, what was that for?” He groaned from the sudden pain, shaking off his arm in an attempt to cease the pain.

“Why did you left?” Hinata asked, wanting him to come inside the bar and be with everyone else, preventing him from not socializing. “I think I saw Akkun leaving towards the motel there with someone” The blond responded hesitant, pointing towards the place he supposedly saw his friend run.

“He must’ve gone with (Y/N) to have sex, what’s the deal?” She shrugged off bluntly “Go inside”.

“No no, you don’t understand, I know the person with Akkun wasn’t (Y/N), he said that he wouldn’t be coming” He hesitated. “Please follow me, just this once, and I will leave you alone”

“… fine, but you must make this quick” She said as she finally gave in. “Well let’s go!” Takuya said excitedly, grabbing her hands and running off to the motel.

When they arrived, the clerk in charge of reception looked at them indifferently “Normal or Good room?” He scoffed. “Any room!” Hinata smashed a wad of 100 yen bills to the clerk, fed up quickly going upstairs to find Akkun. “Just room 13 is occupied, grab any other” The clerk scoffed, looking now at his newspaper.

Takuya quickly went up the same stairs, looking for Hina that was checking every door if she could find some type of sound. “Why are you suddenly so interested?” The blond asked her. “Dont you know im the best gossip searcher in this goddamn country” Hinata playfully said, but that didn’t quite catch on Takuya, as he responded rolling his eyes.

“Why are you going on too much detail?” you asked. Takuya shushed you hesitantly “We’ll get there when we get there”

“The old man said that room 13 was the only one occupied” He said, inspecting every room number, until Hina found it. “Here it is, room 13” she exclaimed, now Takuya and herself leaning towards the door.

First they couldn’t hear a lot, only muffled noises and breathy moans. “This isnt the right one, lets leave Taku” she whispered to the body left of her. But when they lifted their ears from the door, they heard it

“Oh”

An ‘Oh’ so familiar, they sticked to the musty door again, now hearing in much more detail each sound. As they heard more, the more they were sure that Akkun was there, banging someone, who definitely didn’t sound like you at all, not even when she muttered words.

They couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Akkun, known for his swore loyalty and devotion towards his boyfriend, now was having sex with some random chick in a cheap as hell motel. Where the fuck was his standards? His shame?

The love for his couple?

Where was it?

The mix of emotions had been pushing through both of them. Neither did Takuya not Hinata couldn’t describe what they were feeling. The blond’s hands were gripping on the door’s flat surface, and Hinata was tapping her shoe quite loudly.

In an attempt of rescuing his friend’s relationship, Hinata stormed in towards the room. Both Akkun and her hookup were still going at it. Hinata stared with a rage filled gaze, now approaching Akkun.

The peachette grabbed Akkun from behind his shoulders, throwing him across the room. Tachibana stormed towards the redhead and started to shout at him.

“HOW DID YOU FUCKING DO THIS” She slapped him.

“CANT YOU THINK OF OTHERS, OF YOUR BOYFRIEND?” Another slap was heard.

The shouting and slapping festine continued, Takuya was looking startled towards them. Hinata was punching Akkun as she was the one cheated on. Karen on the other hand, was still in the bed, covering her body with the sheets.

“Now you know” she cooed towars (Y/N). During all of the story, you didn’t mutter any word, nor any movement at all. But when she finished, it was your breaking point. All they could hear from the covers were muffling sounds, shaky sobs and you shifting in your bed, finally revealing you from your hiding spot.

Tears came flooding down your face again, but this time Takuya hugged you. He carresed your long hair as you broke down on his shoulder. Yamagishi and Makoto were now in the room aswell, both with sad and concerned looks.

Thoughts came back to your mind as this happened. You couldn’t believe what you just sat through, an explicit description on how Akkun had sex with some girl. Many kinds of thoughts were bearing your fried brain.

Were you not enough for him?

His love for you faded away?

Did he ever love you?

But how that could be, he told you could trust your life to him. That you were forever and ever together. How he could throw it all away? How he could be capable of any of this?

All must be fault of that bitch, you concluded. The one who have you feeling this must be her, the one who stole your boyfriend.

[katsune-nya]

♡ Masterlist ♡

Requests: OPEN!

SMAU Masterlist.

Headcanons Masterlist.

One Shots Masterlist.

Fanarts.

TR Memes.

Drabbles Masterlist

SFW

Tetta Kisaki:

Stressed Tetta.

Shiba Siblings:

Taiju's lil babies are gay.

NSFW

Hakkai Shiba:

A beast in bed.

Incorrect Quotes:

"Mikey" Sano Manjiro:

Masochist Mikey.

Y/N fell.

Two straws, please.

Mikey is cute and small.

Draken loves Mikey.

Responsible adults.

Anatomy test.

Edgelords.

Little brother things.

Third raccoon battalion.

Step on me.

Difficult life.

Takemichi Hanagaki:

Dating advice.

Push and Pull.

"Draken" Ryuguji Ken:

Do you hear something?

Mikey's love advice.

Being that pretty must be tiring.

The clock is ticking. (Ft. Mikey)

Draken, to the front desk. (FT. Y/N and Mikey)

Edgelords. (Ft. Y/N)

Mikey's in trouble. (Ft. Y/N)

Matsuno Chifuyu:

Fuyu loves chaotic Y/N.

Fuyu is in love.

Dots.

Baji Keisuke:

Kei thinks. (Ft. Fuyu.)

Lying. (Ft. Y/N.)

Hanemiya Kazutora:

Y2K flavored baggage.

Kazu has a very normal crush.

Kawata Twins:

Kawata Twin vibes.

Hanma Shuji:

Lazy Shuji ain't getting any tonight.

Hanma is a Kisaki Simp.

Friends with benefits?

Pick-up lines.

Did it hurt when you fell?

Hanma's motto.

Sapiosexual Shuji.

Give Tetta a break.

Shuji has a crush ♡ (Hankisa).

In love. Ft. Tetta.

Tsundere Y/N. Ft. Tetta.

Kisaki Tetta:

Sapiosexual Shuji.

Stupid Hanma.

You should touch some tits.

Bottoming? (Ft. Hanma)

HanKisa?

"When I first met you-" (Ft. Hanma)

Shiba Yuzuha:

Bro, i had a dream...

Down with murder. (Ft. Emma)

Girls like flowers. (Ft. Taiju)

Don't break someone's heart.

Lets tell a secret.

Cannibalism.

Gay name.

Shiba Hakkai:

Tampons?

Dealing with haters.

Kurokawa Izana:

Adopted.

Sano Emma:

Mikey's grounded.

Emergency.

South:

Climber Y/N.

Mizo Middle Five:

Mizo Five after a fight.

Mizo Five VS big tiddie vampires.

Mizo Five and Joe Mamma jokes.

Mizo Five when Michi and Hina finally do it.

Mizo Mid and the shared braincell.

Mizo Mid under censorship.

Akkun's First Detention.

Mizo Five home alone without Mom Akkun.

Mizo Five playing hide and seek.

What do rainbows mean?

One shared braincell.

It's always Michi's fault.

Mold water.

Would they stab someone?

Platonic pick-up lines.

Friendship is ruined.

"Akkun" Sendo Atsushi:

I'm in love.

Yamamoto Takuya:

You get catcalled.

Suzuki Makoto:

Lolis.

Various:

Takemichi VS Draken when their gfs are cold.

Hina is the best wing woman (Drakemma + Takehina).

Girl Talk~ (Emma, Hina, Yuzuha, Senju).

Housewife Emma (Ft. Draken).

Team Park. (Baji, Fuyu, Ken, Mikey, Tora, Y/N)

Point of view. (Mikey, Fuyu, Baji, Ken)

in the works (please tell me if you want 'em so i have pressure to actually finish them):

SFW

Keisuke Baji Random Texts 2 and 3.

What the characters smell like (mean).

What the characters smell like (nice).

Akkun x Reader (Mizo Middle Five Six, reader is a fellow friend). Mutual pinning.

Shinichiro's First Kiss. (Shinichiro x GN!Reader. Various alternatives cuz i just have so many ideas.)

Mitsuya x GN!Reader. Slow Burn. Reader is in the home economics club. Mutual Pinning. Idiots in love.

Kokonoi x Male!Reader x Inui.

NSFW

Ran x Reader x Rindo (x South) Dom!Haitani Sub!Reader (Dom!Cuckhold!South).

Tetta Kisaki x Reader CNC.

Shuji Hanma x Kisaki!Reader (Tetta's older sister).

Sanzu x Haitani!Reader (Sanzu offers drugs to the youngest Haitani in exchange for sex ♡).

Shin-nii x LilSis!Reader (Shinichiro's slightly younger half sister).

Hanma Shuji x Hanma Reader (Yes, siblings again, leave me alone).

Detective!Naoto x Detective!Fem!Reader.

SoftDom!Takuya x GN!Reader.

Pegging Takuya. GN!Reader.

Sub!Mikey x Mommy!Reader.

SoftPleasureDom!Takashi x Reader.

Sanzu x Male!Reader CNC.

Shin x Imaushi!Reader (Waka's sibling).

[chaoticevilorange]

hello!! if it is alright with you may I ask how the hq boys would act when they realize that they have a crush on their best friend.

thank you ❤️

Hey hey heyyyy!!! I was thinking about doing some small drabbles for how they act around you after this👀 nice timing anon 🤭💖✨

Haikyuu x reader

How he acts after he realises he's falling for you

After the awful date you crashed at his place, you don't know he has unlocked a whole new kind of feelings towards you, but you definitely can feel something different about him

Soon as he knew he was falling for you tried to act as always in front of you, he joked as usual and even ruffled your hair too, but there was something about the uncertainty when he touched any part of your body that kind of gives him away, when you cuddled in the couch you can hear his heart rate raise, the fake coughing he does when you make a sex joke, he no longer grabs your hips to guide you somewhere without asking first, he has gone far as staring at your lips while you talk about something, he tried to be your friend, but he doesn't know how much he will last with your face so close to his when you're trying to reach the control remote he's holding above his head...

Iwaizumi, Sugawara, Tanaka, Ennoshita, Semi, Yamamoto, Futakuchi, Bokuto

He teases you as his usual self, but now he also touches you more, now his touches linger a couple of seconds longer, he has started to place a hand on your cheek and other in your hip while makes fun of you, almost like he's trying to apologize for his words, he winks more at you, his praises are subtle too, you see how his gaze hardens when you talk about a male you meet in your job, you see how he talks less about himself to ask about your day, he even walks closer to you when you're buying snacks, he acts like a couple to you without actually asking you out, looks normal, but you know something is different, he knows it too, because he is dying to kiss the ice-cream clean of your soft lips...

Matsukawa, Oikawa, Nishinoya, Tsukishima, Satori, Kuroo, Atsumu

He gets nervous around you now, like he is afraid to touch you or something, you talk with him as usual, memes here and there but also the content of the memes shifted, there is a lot of cute cats with silly captions, some memes are about friend zone and such, at certain point you asked him if he was having troubles with a female friend, because how dare she to not loving a ray of sunshine like him? He wants to confess right away but he doesn't know if it's a good idea, not now when you're both watching the movie you've been waiting the whole week, you're currently curled against him playing with the end of his shirt while his arm is wrapped around you, he only has to look at you, call your name and lean forwards to kiss you...

Kyotani, Asahi, Yamaguchi, Hinata, Goshiki, Lev, Koganegawa

He doesn't show it but feels a lot of pressure, he doesn't want to ruin your friendship, he ask his friends for advice and is always the same, they said he should go for it but he is low-key afraid your relationship might change if he confesses, he knows you won't ever stop of talking but he wants to be able to hold you, to comfort you if you ever need, so he is more quiet than usual, he knows you're growing worried because he can see how you're shifting between the TV and his face, when he gives a small sigh your face snapped towards him instantly, he knows you won't ask, he also knows he won't tell, but now your face looks so cute, you're pouting a bit looking at him, the soft lips his dying to taste mere inches of his face, he is definitely weighing his options now...

Daichi, Kageyama, Ushijima, Kenma, Akaashi, Osamu

He doesn't act any differently than the usual, it's like he knows he's crushing on you badly, but all the possible scenarios run into his head quietly when you're both doing things together, the only times that might give him away is because he have starting to hold you close to sway with you slowly dancing your favourite songs, sometimes he presses himself against you to protect you from large crowds on the bus/train, you know it's because is crowded but he feels like he's protecting his one and only, he's always been polite and considerate, so you didn't thought much about it when he grabbed your hand to walk you home, or when he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead with you curled at his side while you both watched TV...

Hanamaki, Yaku, Suna, Kita, Aran, Aone, Sakusa

Thanks for reading 🐨✨💖

[strawberrykake]

˚ ◌༘ ⋆｡˚ ⋆ -ˏˋ 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐭 ˊˎ˚ ◌༘ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

Refresh yourself ! small drabbles

🍓 you bump into them on the street - Hinata, Kageyama, Bokuto, Kenma, Sakusa

🍓 you bump into them on the street pt2 - Ushijima, Nishinoya, Oikawa, Aone

🍓 walk in the park - Middle blockers: Tsukishima, Suna, Tendou, Lev, Hirugami

🍓 mistletoe (Holiday post) - the captains: Daichi, Oikawa, Kuroo, Terushima, Bokuto, Ushijima, Kita

🍓 untied shoelaces - the setters: Shirabu, Kenma, Semi, Sugawara, Oikawa, Koganegawa, Atsumu, Kageyama, Akaashi

🍓 captains’ nicknames for their s/o - Daichi, Kuroo, Oikawa, Bokuto, Ushijima

🍓 gimme kith - Hoshiumi, Sugawara, Matsukawa, Yahaba, Kuroo

🍓 don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious - aone, iwaizumi+oikawa

🍓 shiratorizawa w/ an energetic s/o - Ushijima, Shirabu, Goshiki, Tendou

🍓 sleeping with your mouth open - tsukishima, akaashi, tanaka, sugawara

🍬 “wear anything you want, I can fight” - bf scenario

🍬 bf w/ brooding gaze - bf scenario

🍬 when u r struggling to grab something from the top shelf - bf scenarios

🍬 “your eyes are so pretty,, can I have them?” - bf scenario

🍬 playing with your hair mid-conversation - bf scenario

🍬 proposal prompts - scenarios

🍬 how he would respond to a simple request - bf scenario

🍬 “if my girl was cold…” - bf scenario

🍬 wins you a giant stuffed animal - bf scenario

🍬 wears your purse in public - bf scenario

🍒 ushijima “not a romantic guy” wakatoshi - drabble

🍒 your love makes me forget bad things exist - Hinata drabble

🥨 ariana grande lyrics as haikyuu prompts

🥨 taylor swift lyrics as haikyuu prompts

Some yummy foods (reader-inserts (longer readings)

🍙 captains taking you on the first date - Daichi, Kuroo, Oikawa, Bokuto, Ushijima

🍙 the ace’s misunderstanding - Iwaizumi, Asahi, Aran, Ushijima, Yamamoto, Futakuchi

🍙 bf opening glued jar prank - Bokuto, Kenma, Ushijima, Kyoutani, Kita

🍙 surprise kisses -Hinata, Tsukishima, Kenma, Osamu

🥪 glad we met - Sugawara, Hinata, Osamu, Oikawa (Latina!reader)

🥪 his s/o who’s always listening to music - Iwaizumi, Bokuto

🍙 not saying ‘ily’ back prank - Kageyama, Atsumu, Sakusa, Tendou

🍙 unexptected flirting - Tsukishima, Iwaizumi, Hyakuzawa, Nishinoya

🍙 teammates reacting to you dating - Kageyama, Kenma, Aone

🍙 gifting him flowers - vice captains: Kai, Sugawara, Akaashi (pt1) Iwaizumi, Reon, Kamasaki (pt2)

🍙 nasa (“when i miss you, it’ll change the way i kiss you”) - Ushijima, Osamu, Keishin, Oikawa

🍙 calling you ma'am - Yamaguchi, Ennoshita, Goshiki, Akaashi (fem!reader)

🍙 thigh flirting w/ ur crush - Iwaizumi, Kenma, Suna

🍙 awkward hq boys’ first time trying to cheer up their manager - Ushijima, Kageyama, Sakusa (manager!reader)

🥪 your other half - Kenma (male!reader)

🥪 his super reliable manager - Kuroo, Osamu, Oikawa, Bokuto (manager!reader)

🥪 being their best friend pt - iwaizumi-oikawa; matsukawa-hanamaki; sakusa-komori; ushijima-tendou; miya twins-suna

🍙 when he pulls the ‘not saying ily back’ prank (series) - (1) kageyama, Atsumu, (2) Nishinoya, Bokuto, Oikawa, (3) Iwaizumi, Kuroo

🥪 compassion never fails - Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Hinata

🍙 ‘ignoring your bf’ prank - Suna, Tsukishima, Semi

🥪 ladies and gentlemen…them✨ - Oikawa, Ushijima

🍙 father and son matching clothes - Ushijima, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, Daichi, Kita

🥪 You’re So Lovely - Semi

🍙 “if you could have dinner with anyone dead or alive…” - Akaashi, Sugawara, Atsumu

🥪 when you’re crying at your graduation - Tsukishima, Semi, Bokuto

🥪 haikyuu x extroverted!reader - Tsukishima, Bokuto, Kita

🥪 overworking yourself - Oikawa, Akaashi

🍕 deja vu - Ukai Keishin (COLLAB)

🥪 sunkissed - Oikawa, Kuroo, Akaashi, Daichi

🥪 take your time - atsumu, oikawa, akaashi

🥪 when you're crying at his graduation - tsukishima, semi, bokuto

A drink! smaus

🥤 Lev using Hinata as Kenma bait  - smau headcanon

🥤 haikyuu boys reacting to your first good morning text - Ushijima, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Hinata || reader insert

🥤 haikyuu boys reacting to your first good morning text pt 2a - Kageyama, Kenma (2a), Sugawara, Nishinoya (pt2b)

🥤 when they want to see you — hcs

Want juice instead? headcanons(hcs), fake quotes(fq), haikyuu ships, etc. (non-reader inserts)

🧃 captains jamming to music in the car - fq

🧃 what is Tsukki listening to? - fq

🧃 haikyuu ships’ daughters - hq ships

🧃 haikyuu ships’ daughters pt2 - hq ships

🧃 my Kagehina headcanons- hq ships

🧃 types of “present unwrappers” - hcs