#Sorry for my fixation on Yuu

[myeagleexpert]

Where would you go?

And when it's all over… malleus' overblot… grim's overblot… could we finally go home?

Translated from fan to fan, see the artist's original work from the pin: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/902690319055568269/

What's your theory about the way home?

[zorosdimples]

mdni. cw: hybrids, oral fixations, spit. my (not so) long-awaited return to the tiger hybrid yuuji-verse.

Sunday afternoons are usually spent like this: lazing on the couch with your tiger hybrid, his broad frame curled around yours as he shields you from the stress of your impending work week. Your face is buried in his strong chest and his chin rests atop your head.

Yuuji chuffs in contentment when you reach up to scratch his rosy ears; the vocalization puffs against your hair as his soft tail gently bats your hip. When you try to withdraw your hand, he whines, chasing you with his nose. As you let him nuzzle into your touch, he begins lapping at your skin.

You chuckle; you’ve grown fond of his clinginess. “Hm?”

His affection dances from the center of your palm to the tip of your pointer finger, and he wraps his tongue around the digit before nipping the pad. He pulls away from your comforting scent and warmth—barely, as his breath ghosts your flesh—and his striped ears twitch.

“You know how you told me to come to you when I need anything?” Yuuji asks.

You hum. “Of course.”

“Well,” he gulps, cheeks blooming a ruddy color that matches his hair, “could you, um, play with my mouth?”

Unsure of where he’s headed with his request, you quirk an eyebrow.

“The vet said I had to stop chewing so much ice—remember?”

“Yeah. It’s bad for your teeth if you do it too often.”

He nods. “And I've chewed through all of my toys.”

“No new toys until next month, Yuu. They’re too expensive to replace on a weekly basis. Unfortunately, I’m not made of money.”

The hybrid’s ears flatten against his head. “I know. But my mouth feels so empty.” He shifts a little, now fidgeting with the fuzzy tip of his tail. “I—um, just need something to occupy it. My gums ache, and my jaw hurts because I keep clenching. I try to work everything out on my own, but I… I thought maybe you could help.”

Wide, sweet, earnest, Yuuji’s gaze is rich caramel. You feel a little flustered by his request—you aren’t exactly sure why—but you couldn’t possibly say no to him. You offer Yuuji a reassuring smile. “There’s no need for you to be embarrassed; I’m always happy to help. Now: open wide for me.”

Your willingness draws a pleased chuff from him, and he complies, baring his maw. Accentuated by glinting incisors, rows of honed teeth would be a frightening sight for an onlooker. But the hybrid would rather wither away than hurt a fly (unless the fly was trying to harm you). You begin by running a finger along his slick gums, gingerly massaging the pink tissue.

Garbled whines flutter past Yuuji’s drooling tongue; his eyes water, irises hazy with relief. By the time you reach his molars, you have to hold his tongue down with your middle and ring fingers, using your index to rub around his teeth. Spit pools at the bottom of his mouth and dribbles down his chin. A pleased sigh leaves his stretched lips, and his hips jerk forward, something firm brushing against your belly.

Blood rushes to your face. You swallow dryly, acutely aware of your intimate position. “Are you hard, Yuuji?”

The hybrid doesn’t try to deny it. “Thowy,” he pants with your fingers heavy on his tongue. Dew collects at his temples and his neck is blush. But instead of putting space between your bodies, he squirms closer—until his bulge presses against you, his syrupy gaze slowing your mind and seeping into your limbs.

Arousal knots itself deep in your core as you stare at your companion—hot, needy, eager. Against your better judgment, you grind against him. Losing focus, he roughly grabs your hips, mouth closing around your digits to lave and suck. He rolls onto his back and hoists you on top of him, angling you so that his throbbing length rubs you right where you need.

“Fuck,” you hiss, unable to do anything but roll your hips and chase pleasure. You extract your fingers from Yuuji’s mouth, cradling his burning face before melting into him, a heap of spit and teeth and tongue.

“I’m s-sorry,” he groans against your lips as he kneads your ass, tail grazing your ankle. “Gonna make it up to you—promise.”

[islandofsages]

HEYY!! I love your writing from what i've read and i was wondering if i could ask for a gn reader (yuu) teaching the housewardens about like classic fandom lore- like imagine them turning into matpat to explain fnaf and undertale!! 😭😭 feel free to not do this and have a good day!! Thanks :D

characters: housewardens x gn!yuu

tags: platonic, fluff, crack kinda, imagines format

warnings: swearing

author's notes: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG also all the fandoms mentioned here are all fandoms ive been in at some point :D fun times mhm

Riddle Rosehearts

He knows you’re very passionate about fandom culture but you never really had the chance to infodump about it to him

Until one day, you drop by Heartslabyul for a leisurely visit, when you see a not-so-clearly distressed Riddle sitting in the lounge

Not-so-clearly meaning he’s holding a teacup in his hand yet not drinking it, eyes closed as if he’s holding in all his emotions

You grow worried at this sight and slide next to him on the couch where he is seated, hoping you can help alleviate some of that stress

He sees you and he allows himself a sigh, then musters up a smile for you. He greets you and you cut straight to the point - can you help him with anything?

He releases a second sigh and shakes his head, telling you he only needs some sort of distraction. He just had a long day and needs to take his mind off things

You take a second to think of things that you can distract him with – that’s when a lightbulb goes off in your head. This is a prime opportunity for you

“Okay, I’m guessing you haven’t heard of Five Nights at Freddy’s since it’s a franchise from my world and all but the lore is crazy. So it starts like this…”

He wasn’t expecting to be paying much attention to the contents of what you’re saying but sooner or later, he ends up leaning towards you with his hand cupping his chin, mouth slightly agape at the story you’re telling

This inspires you to dump even more information about the media somehow at the rate that you’re going

By the end of it, he’s completely forgotten what he was so worried about. His head is full of creepy pizzerias for kids and haunted animatronics

He ends up having some trouble sleeping that night though. He’ll get you for that later.

Leona Kingscholar

He won’t lie, your interest in fandoms is too reminiscent of Idia for him – he doesn’t admit this to you obviously, since he hasn’t had the chance to

But on one particularly boring day, you decide to skip class with him and he lets you tag along for the hell of it

In the span of three seconds, he’s already off in dreamland. Sometimes you wish you had such a skill

Since you have nothing better to do and he’s way too deep in his sleep to even care anyway, you start rambling to yourself and a slumbering Leona

“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about Undertale lately so I need to dump it all somewhere. So basically you play as this kid…”

Little do you know halfway through his nap, he wakes up from how much you’re talking. At first, he’s annoyed by your yapping but then he grows interest in what you’re saying

He’s almost tempted to try that game for himself and almost disappointed that it’s not available in Twisted Wonderland. Emphasis on almost.

When you’re done rambling, that’s when he stretches his arms over his head and yawn, commenting how noisy you were

You shrug it off. You're used to him complaining about you yapping instead of napping alongside him

…But then he asks you to tell him more about Undertale, if there's any more information you’re keeping from him out of the kindness of your heart

You smile smugly at this and his expression seems to say “don't make me regret asking” but oh, you definitely will make him regret even being friends with you in the first place

Needless to say, regrets were not the only thing he held at the end of that day.

Azul Ashengrotto

Similar to Leona, your fixation on fandom culture reminds him too much of Idia. not that that’s necessarily a bad thing - it’s more of an observation

And he gets more than an observation when you get the chance to show him what you’re made of: useless fandom culture and gaming knowledge

Speaking of Idia, he goes to you as a last resort to ask you to help him understand whatever the hell Idia’s talking about

You don’t know too much about Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture just yet but when Azul explains the premise of a certain game and its fandom, it gives you an idea

“Sounds pretty similar to Yandere Simulator. Ooh, that one has a lot of history. Let me tell you about it…”

Unfortunately for him, he ended up unlocking your geekiness instead of having you address the things he was confused with

But at least your story makes it a bit easier to understand? He’s yet to decide that really but at least it sounds like you’re taking his lack of slang knowledge into consideration

Your infodump really gripped his attention though - it’s interesting to know another side of human culture, even if it’s not the humans of Twisted Wonderland

He would nod understandingly (or at least, politely) and thank you and your geekiness

He relays your story to Idia and finds it intriguing how similar fandom culture is in both Twisted Wonderland and your world

He would invite you to Board Game Club meetings so that you can rave and find out more about Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture with Idia

He’d realize that was a big mistake and he may or may not have created the nerdiest pair in the world - but you guys are his nerdiest pair in the world.

Kalim Al-Asim

He’s very curious about fandom culture - he doesn’t know too much about it nor anyone who knows a lot about it so almost all the fandom information in his head are from you

He really wants to know more!!! So of course that warrants a hangout session fabricated as a study session to get Jamil’s stamp of approval

So there you are in his room, books laid out in front of the two of you but most importantly, a laptop

You two watch about a dozen videos on Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture and as you absorb all the very-much-useful information, you sneak in tidbits from the culture of your world

“This one in particular is reminiscent of Danganronpa. Man, that one was a wild ride…”

It’s exciting to be able to talk about it with someone you trust wholeheartedly, especially Kalim, whom you know wouldn’t be so judging

He only nods in understanding at every point you made, his eyes sparkling with all the curiosity in his body

You were on your thirteenth video when you two are interrupted by a rap on the door and an unfortunately-familiar voice

So obviously you and your bestie hurriedly rush to close all the tabs on your laptop and open up something more academically-inclined

Which is obviously a…dictionary site

Jamil blinks twice at this, says nothing (but probably noting how it makes sense for you guys since you two are bumbling idiots) and walks away

If there’s any dictionary being read that day, it’d be a dictionary of fandom terminology, that’s for sure.

Vil Schoenheit

He doesn’t know too much about it - and doesn’t bother to learn much about it since he has better things to do - but since it’s you, he tries his best to be a good listener

The two of you sit down in the courtyard one day, the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves music to your ears; beauty truly is everywhere around you when you’re next to him

He’s talking about something. You’re not sure what because you’re entranced by the way his hair hangs above his eyes so elegantly. He notices this and calls you out for it

You shrug and excuse how you can’t help it - he’s like a dating simulator love interest in the real. He asks you what you mean by this. Now’s your chance to shine!

“Hmm, you know, something like Mystic Messenger? Hehe, let me tell you a bit about it…”

Unluckily for him, your “a bit” turns out to be a four-hour long ramble about the aforementioned dating simulator a little too reminiscent of Rook for his liking too

Despite his reservations, he really did enjoy hearing you talk so passionately about your interest; it’s a bonus that the topic itself is interesting

He tells you he wouldn’t mind trying out the game or at least finding out more about it though unfortunately it’s not available in Twisted Wonderland

You share his shame - until he says he’ll pitch the concept of the game to some authorities he know and perhaps make it a reality

Sorry, he’s going to what now?

You’re a little shaken. Sometimes you forget he’s a world-class model, despite his looks and mannerisms. You save your nerves for if a Twisted Wonderland version of Mystic Messenger actually ends up happening

He thanks you for enlightening him about fandom and video gaming culture. You use this as a cue to add another four hours of ranting about V’s route in the game.

Idia Shroud

You’re another victim for him to taint… or so he thought. You’re more of an ally than a victim at this point, considering how nerdy you are

He’d dump fandom lore on you and you’d reciprocate it right back. He’s genuinely so impressed with your knowledge, even if they differ by some degree due to being from different worlds

He gets more impressed when you pull up with knowledge about Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture like damn, you really brushed up on your talking points already

Friendly rivalry aside, he really does enjoy talking about fandom culture with you and hearing about the things from your world - every story you tell adds a little color into his world

One day, the two of you are leaning on each other, on your phones because of course you are, even if you two are friends, talking still isn’t Idia’s strong suit

That’s when you blurt it out–

“Hey, wanna hear about this game called Persona? It’s a turn-based RPG and…”

Regardless of his response to your question, you ended up babbling away either way. It’s how conversations start between the two of you

You’re speaking so fast, he would have mistaken you for a rapper - or a doppelganger of himself even

Consider him entertained - he finds himself smiling by the end of your yapping and intrigued by your story

He then obviously starts to relate it to something from Twisted Wonderland, passing the listener baton to you

You don’t mind – you can stay there for hours and hours, just going back and forth with your fellow nerdy-ass friend.

Malleus Draconia

This man barely knows how to use a smartphone so you had to be a little patient with him when guiding him through the fandom culture trenches

He’s happy that you trust and cherish him enough to talk about your interests with no reservations or shame – and the feeling is mutual

On a certain weekend, the two of you are hanging out as usual. Chatting as friends would do

You don’t know why but the conversation reminded you of a certain fandom

“It’s kinda like Genshin’s community, I guess. They’re a riot, let me tell you that.”

Oh? What’s a Genshin and why is its community a riot?

You’re glad he asked – because you’ve prepared a 100-slide presentation on the history of the game and its fans

He asks you why and how did you find the time to make that. You tell him to shut up and that it doesn’t matter, he just needs to listen to you

You start and it feels like you’ll never stop – there’s just so much to say and Malleus has so much time in the world

Seeing his reactions to certain events makes you crack up and at times, you’d laugh at his shocked expressions (or sigh exhaustively, depending on the event you’re explaining)

When you finally stop, he gives you a one-man standing ovation. You blush a little at the attention and unexpected reaction but you appreciate his sentiment nonetheless. He tells you that your presentation has been very informative for him

You’re relieved to have been able to get that off your chest… and Malleus is more than ecstatic to relay the information to everyone he’s ever known. You obviously pretend that you had no involvement in his sudden investment of a game from another world.

[kiyo-cant-write]

vil schoenheit with an otaku s/o

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I felt like we needed something on this blog with my bias, Vil. So I took it upon myself to write something.

This comes from my love of pairing otakus and nerds with ultra-glamorous people. Vil/Idia is also something I enjoy, but as this blog is catered to reader-insert content, have this.

If anyone has any Vil requests I may prioritize them....

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Summary: [Name] is the s/o of Vil Schoenheit and an otaku who challenges the shut-in Ignihyde Housewarden for his title. They have a fixation on games and often find themselves obsessed with them. What does Vil think of this?

TW/CW: None

Notes: established relationship, they/them pronouns for the reader, the reader is implied to be Ramshackle Prefect/Yuu, the reader is younger than Vil (lightly implied), explicitly post B5

Guest Stars: Rook Hunt. Neige LeBlanche (implied/referenced), Idia Shroud (mentioned)

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Vil Schoenheit

Vil wasn't always so open to dating someone who obsesses over fiction and 2D media to this degree.

Idia always irked him a bit, but maybe it was the tablet.

Honestly, he still doesn't really understand.

Vil Schoenheit is the commodity, not the consumer.

He respects his s/o for their dedication, though.

The only criticisms he has are if they do not take care of themselves properly (like neglecting food or sleep for games).

Vil has come to know random things about whatever anime or game his s/o likes and picks up special items when opportunities arise at work, albeit without drawing attention to it publicly.

What Vil wasn't prepared for was [Name]'s friendship with Rook.

It's a blessing and a curse to be in their presence.

He's thrilled they get along... but once they start yapping... it never ends and is typically about Vil himself or worse Neige LeBlanche.

Vil often pretends that he doesn't hear those chats.

He finds the praise from his s/o nice, though.

He's relieved they aren't one of his creeper fans.

Be assured that he did some interrogating early on for safety.

Vil appreciates that they live outside the spotlight.

It means that he can be "normal" with them.

It's nice to just be "Vil" and not some mega-star.

Vil values that even though they love his work, they also love him as a person, the Vil that the rest of the world isn't privy to.

Vil grimaced at the sight of his darling partner who was buried in blankets on the couch trying to "grind" for an "SSR" in some game about idols. He didn't pretend to understand such concepts but he was certainly watching it happen before him: [Name] was ignoring the world for games.

He sighed but he knew he chose this.

[Name] gave that tablet-wielding Idia Shroud a run for his title, surely. They were a shut-in as any otaku was, keeping their darling face away from view and covered by baggy clothing. They took poor care of themselves when "banners" were yielding?

That was what got on Vil's nerves the most. The utter disregard for their health in favor of fictional men and digital items.

"[Name]," Vil said, trying to get his beloved's attention.

They did not answer.

That's alright, they probably did not hear him.

"[Name]," he repeated a bit more urgently.

They remained focused on their screen, unaware of the person standing beside their cozy setup. Vil wasn't sure if he was offended or not. The housewarden sighed before using the only trick he had up his sleeve at the moment.

"[Full Name]."

"HUH?!?"

[Name] whipped around like they had heard gunshots and were faced with the radiant beauty of their boyfriend.

Oh! It was Vil!

"Sorry, Vil," [Name] offered, looking down for a moment to ensure that the story was paused, "I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"And that," Vil told them, "is a crime in and of itself, I look lovely today and you should appreciate all beauty that graces your eyes."

Vil smiled, posing in a way that made it seem natural. A hand on his hip asserted that Vil held the power in this room, even when it was not his dorm. Pomefiore's housewarden was too charismatic for words sometimes.

"You know, dear, like Rook always says and does..." Vil continued, pausing for a moment at the thought of his vice housewarden, "Though maybe not so enthusiastically as him."

"I love you so much, V, but I also have so many pulls I need to do to get this SSR," [Name] told Vil, tapping into the next part of the event they were working on, "This. is. why. I. exist. And Idia put the support card I told... begged him to."

[Name] had ventured to Ignihyde the other day, Ortho accompanying them, to beg the Game Master to put his level 105 maxed stat card for support. It was a terrifying journey that incurred the wrath of the heavens (Idia screamed in such a shrill voice that he nearly gave [Name] tinnitus) but it was worth it. The Game Master ceded and the support for the battle was won! Huzzah!

"I can see that this means a lot if you cried to Shroud about it, but you... " Vil trailed off until he noticed a familiar bag by the side of the couch, "I'm sorry, darling, do you have a guest?"

"Eh, do I have a guest?" [Name] asked Vil.

With that, Vil was about to launch into another lecture about how they should watch their house and remember if people were present, but he was cut off by the entry of one (1) Rook Hunt wearing something he would be skinned for if he were at Pomefiore with his hair tangled as if he fell asleep half smothered into something, hair and all. Vil could believe his eyes, but he didn't want to.

"Do I even want to know?" Vil asked him.

Rook raised his hands in a shrug that felt a tad passive-aggressive.

"I'm not going to ask then, neither of you has the answer that keeps my sanity alive," Vil said, sighing as he closed his eyes to avoid questioning his vice housewarden.

"We're doing this for you, Roi du Poison!" Rook told him.

"In what world does this game have anything to do with me?"

Vil was floored by the implication that he was familiar with one of these idol-ish games. He had worked on them once or twice, sure, but that was hardly the same as being a fan, a player.

"I thought this as well, but [Name] explained it to me!"

And... Rook was enthused. Yay. Time for theatrics.

"Rook, I'm not in the mood for theatrics, try to be concise."

"Of course, My Queen!"

"Rook-senpai did you make food?" [Name] asked him, cutting into the conversation.

"It is cooking now!" Rook assured with a (slightly scary) smile.

"I thought you..." Vil trailed off once more, it wasn't worth it.

Rook was here, he wasn't. [Name] knew, they didn't. At least Epel wasn't also here trying to get muscular at a dangerous speed (again). In the end, the hunter had agreed to cease his shenanigans, but there were sure to be more theatrics and tomfoolery ahead. It might seem impossible, but Vil could sense it.

"Do you two wish to tell me what has you so involved in this game? And how in all of this Twisted Wonderland it pertains to me?" the housewarden asked after a moment sitting down on the Ramshackle couch after a moment of deliberation and joining his vice housewarden and the love of his young life.

"It has everything to do with you!" [Name] told him, managing to tap away at the rhythm game while speaking which Vil would never admit impressed him, "I'm doing this because I love you.... and the cards. But mostly for you, V!"

"It's about your honor, Beautiful Vil!" Rook added.

About his honor? How was this about his honor?

Vil sighed as he turned to Rook. His hair was still a nest on his head, one fit for a bird. His golden hair color aided that appearance.

"I really wish you would fix your hair, Rook..."

Rook shook his head, expression saddening if only for a moment.

"Non, non. There is no time for it when your honor is at stake!"

And... Yeah, there's no stopping Rook now. Vil admitted to that defeat as much as it pained him, a couple of years of friendship had taught him not to... Well, to be crude, not to fuck with that.

"Yeah!!" [Name] agreed, "We need to focus on this. And... Win!"

Oh, good. Lovely. His lover was also not backing down.

Vil sighed as he leaned closer to [Name], a show of his own tiredness that he seemed to neglect the wrinkles to his clothing that could form. His face close to theirs, he watched their game, skimming the dialogue of the stylized men on the screen and trying to parse through why the player seemed to have a hoard of 167 men at their disposal while also being a 17-year-old orphan with dead famous parents who left them a company in their will.

Maybe I should have paid more attention when Idia tried to explain his visual novel collection to me...

Vil continued to watch, slowly feeling himself grow just a tad invested in the story. He cursed it, wanting to say he was above falling for the media he seldom worked in... And here he was, wondering what the MC was going to do now that one of the beautiful young men had been kidnapped by some kind of underground association of famous men. He was still a bit unclear about that last part.

"This is why, V," [Name] told him, tapping the arrow on the screen to reveal a character Vil had not seen in the section [Name] was reading.

They were tall blond with deep blue eyes wearing a shimmering gown and extremely high heels.

Vil looked back to [Name].

"Everyone is saying this character is the in-game equivalent of you," they told him, "So I wanted to help them... win against..."

A voice echoed from Rook's phone that sounded eerily similar to a certain raven-haired boy's voice. But it wasn't, Vil was certain of it. There was a certain energy to Neige's voice that this person did not have, a kind of sweetness that made Vil's stomach churn a bit.

"The you-coded guy is going to be my strongest card and he will win in the polls! Rook and I will make sure of it!" [Name] told Vil, "Also if he does lose I still have to do a favor for Idia-senpai so I really don't wanna lose."

The fact that [Name] was willing to go to such lengths for his apparent honor was heartwarming to Vil if not a tad silly. Since the events of the competition, Vil had rethought some of his prior-made statements, but it seemed that [Name] and Rook both wanted to assure him of his worth and that was... sweet, honestly. A little weird considering they chose an anime game to do so, but sweet nonetheless.

He smiled at [Name], pressing a kiss to their cheek.

"Thank you, my love," he told them before looking over at Rook, "And you as well, I suppose, Rook."

"...Might this lessen the pain I caused at the VDC?" Rook asked.

"I'm no longer angry but perhaps," Vil told the hunter.

"And it was all my idea!" [Name] cheered, glowing with pride.

"Oui, your shared love is most radiant~" Rook practically sang, pausing his rhythm game (he has a full combo and SS rank) to stand and gesture boldly to Vil and [Name].

"I know, it's why I love them so much," Vil mused.

Yes, having a significant other with differing interests had perks, sometimes. Vil had to admit that every once in a while, [Names] hobby was cute, on them anyway... Vil wasn't so sure he could handle it if they came to school as a tablet like Idia.

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Imagine the rest for yourself~

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[mitsuyaya]

[ magnum opus ] okkotsu yuuta

contains: 409 words. characters are aged up, domestic fluff, implied/referenced sex, established relationship

summary: yuuta has finally seen the greatest artwork ever made and it's you, sleeping like an angel in his bed

jjk masterlist

yuuta feels like he shouldn't be seeing you like this.

so bare, unguarded, vulnerable, cladded with nothing but his thick blanket. sleeping soundly in the comfort of his bed, hair messy and marks from what you both did last night is still etched in your soft skin.

you look like an artwork, a painting so ethereal that a mere human could never come close, could never replicate. it felt surreal for a moment, that in this very second it was just hallucination, a figment of his fantasies and yet, when you slowly opened your eyes, cracked a sweet smile – he was reminded that this is real, that you're here.

“morning yuu” even the half asleep tone in your voice sends his heart and brain in a frenzy. “yuu?” he should speak, he tries to but he can't, he couldn't choke out the words he wants to tell you. yuuta fears that if he speaks the moment would be ruined, the painting he's ever so lucky to gaze at would be sullied.

“why are you staring at me?” a smile reappeared on your face, gazes locked on each other, until yuuta breaks the silence and finally speaks.

“i’m sorry you just look so pretty I couldn't help but stare” you giggled and yuuta swore it sounded like a chorus of angels, a harmonious sound of harps playing in the distance.

“very pretty” his hand slid from the sheets into the side of your face, you leaned into his touch, staring back at him with those angelic eyes, everything is just perfect, it felt like he became one with the painting he's admiring.

yuuta's thumb caresses your cheek, face inching closer until you could feel his breath fanning into yours. “my pretty girl” he says lovingly, kissing your eyelids, your nose, and a faint press on his lips into your own. “you’re so sappy” you scoot closer to him as he wraps an arm around your waist.

silence once again consumes his bedroom, with you lulling back to sleep with his fingers playing with your hair and his eyes still fixated on you.

this was everything he ever dreamed of ever since the first time he saw you, to lie next to you, to have you, to be with you.

yuuta glances at your face one last time, as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, engraving in his heart and mind the greatest art he had ever seen.

[niftykin]

"Im so sorry to bother you at home"

Starring: Nishinoya Yuu

Sypnosis: He has been trying to hit on you subtly for quite a few time, but he has grown a little more determinate now.

Request: Hello! Could you please write a Nishinoya x female reader where she’s seen by everyone as a serious, menacing person, when in reality she’s really just socially awkward and dense? Nishinoya tries hitting on her doing the usual tricks like flowers and bears and pick up lines but she’s just confused. Finally he just becomes more direct with her and honest and slowly she falls for him too? I’m sorry if it’s a bit too detailed and it’s okay if you don’t do this haha it’s been at the back of my head for a while

A/N: This one was so cute to write!, i tried to be really quick making this but the inspiration came to me like a thunder and here we are. Remember i use she/her in this fic.

Nishinoya Yuu. The thunder of the Karasuno team, always so energetic and kind, oftenly called delusional by his feelings towards Kiyoko, little did they know that it wasent a crush, he admired her and by that her personality and how she acted; But he liked you, he admired you and wordshipped the very floor you stepped on.

His tries were almost pathetic, sure he could tell Kiyoko anything btu it was different when it was you, he shacked and mumbled like a little kid inlove everytime he crossed any words with you. Everyone could tell but some way you didnt; Not even the flowers he gave you, little gifts he made for you with his own hands (which were a cute detail since he isnt pretty good with manualities) But from time to time his friends started to see that there was no response tho this little acts.

"She doesn't like you and she's acting like that to decline your feelings nicely" He heard one of them said, his heart ached but then Hinata spoke answering to the previous person, his words were filled with determination and his obvious spark that always bringed hope to everyone. "And what if she isnt?, she could see it was a friendly gesture. Nishinoya haven't talked about his feelings openly to her"

Hinata had a point, Sugawara and Daichi agreed, yes Nishinoya and his friends could think those hints were obvious enough to tell that he was completely head over heels inlove with you. But they know him as a friend and since pretty long time comparing to you; They weren't you and that meant they didnt feel or thinked like you.

He planned his confession, would you like something big? the whole school knowing?, No, it will make you agree by social pressure, Did you liked him enough to say 'Yes' without much people knowing? Oh God.

It was 6PM on a friday. He can remember it vividly, his steps were hard on the floor and his fingers were digging into his shirt and on the little box he held, his palms sweated and his face was red; He knocked at your door. After a few minutes you opened the door.

"Hey, im so sorry to bother you at home" he started as he saw you, his face blushed and his cologne was subtle as always. "I know that this might be hard but... I dont know what to say" he started panicking.

"I like you a lot" He finally stated after a sigh, his gaze fixated on the floor, the blush on his cheeks made him look heated, his breathing was heavy and his mind was longing and pleading for an answer.

"Are you being serious?" You spoke, a hidden tint of amusement in your voice, his feeling were glowing as he answered "Of course i am, why wouldnt i? i like you so much" He said as he took another step, reflecting his mind and then doing the opposite and stepping back, he didnt wanted to make the situation awkard, he just wanted to finally be totally sincere with you.

little did he know you liked him aswell, but oh lord he is the happiest man alive.

"Hey, i bringed this for you too" He said as he smiled at you, more confident and smug after your answer, handing you a little figure you have been longing to have since quite a few time. He buyed it for you since the first day you mentioned it but he decided to wait untill the ocation was perfect, and sure it was.

[catsr-reallycool]

@miodiodavinci HI sorry for tagging you so much. I just. I’m. I’ve been obsessed with your stuff for the past few weeks. Especially ZOLA PROJECT and like everything ya thank you so much for ten thousand more hyper fixations other than butcher vanity haha ahah haahah also I’m really. Sorry if the wil fanart looks weird it’s super old and like my first ever zola project piece I’m so worried about doing them dirty the only reason why I haven’t made more work is because if I mess up on one detail my brain goes into Meltdown and I explode. the end

also did you know I like pink men haha Salvador haha Vy2 haha Yuu I’m not biased trust me I promise it’s just how they act yup yup

[qierxing]

Painting the Roses Red

Commissioned by the delightful rainbowsillz Yan!Riddle x F! OC | Continuation of this TW/CW: Non///Con, Oral Sex, Manipulation, attempted murder, unhealthy relationships

And many a tear we shed Because we know They'll cease to grow In fact, they'll soon be dead

Her fingertips are oily.

It’s a gross thing to fixate on, but she can’t help it. For the past few days, she has been running her fingers through her hair out of an instinctive habit. Yuu keeps hoping that her fingers will snag on silk and the familiar tug of a hair strand will happen, but to no avail. Instead, her fingers only get stuck on tangled curls and greasy strands of unwashed hair. 

Automatically, her hands drop to her collarbone, but reality is still cruel. All her prized possessions are gone no matter how much she wishes for it. Perhaps if she closed her eyes, she’ll be able to find them in her dreams.

Three hollow knocks echo through the house.

Her stomach twists in on itself. She knows it’s silly to be so afraid. If she must get morbid, then she would know better than anyone that he would not be the one waiting on the other side of the door. No, in the end, it most likely will be her succumbing out of desperation. At least that’s what the writer in her mutters bitterly.

And yet, she pauses before the main doors of Ramshackle.

What if it is him? Then what will she do? Her eyes slide to the side of the door to the shoe rack before stopping at the umbrella leaning next to it. For a moment, she wonders if it’ll be enough if it’s used as a bludgeon. Yuu quickly snaps her gaze away, shaking her head. How crazy has she become these days?

When she opens the door, a familiar figure greets her eyes and she almost collapses from relief. 

“Can I come in?” Trey asks, head tilted in a weary smile while carrying a tin of cookies.

–

The cookies pair extremely well with the cheap tea bags Yuu got from Sam’s store.

“Sorry to disturb you like this out of the blue.” Trey is so polite, letting her snack on most of the lemon cookies he brought over. He’s barely even touched his cup of tea, which is a shame, because the tea and cookies are quite tasty together.

“No, no, you’re fine, Clover-senpai.” She says. “Is something the matter?”

Trey gives that sheepish looking smile again, meanwhile rubbing his hand over his neck. It’s a nervous tick that she’s familiar with. After spending so much time in Heartslabyul, it’s nearly impossible to miss it. 

“The thing is…” He starts slowly. “The dorm’s fine and all, but the mood’s been off these past few days.”

Cold chills run down her back.

“Ever since the tea party, Riddle’s been a bit…tense.” Trey sighs, finally meeting her eyes again. “Did…you guys have an argument or something?”

An argument. Despite the dread and nausea curling in her gut, she refrains from giving a sharp laugh. She settles on saying, “That’s one way to put it.”

There’s a pause while Trey purses his lips while clasping his hands.

“I don’t want to pry, and it’s not any of my business,” Trey finally says, breathing out a heavy sigh. “But Riddle is my friend and I don't want to see you two go through this.”

Her fingers are already shakily combing through her hair (she should really wash it soon). Another silence goes on. Trey clears his throat, fiddling with the teacup in front of him.

“…also Riddle wanted me to tell you that he has your hair ribbons and brooch.” Crushed flowers and grass flashes in her vision and the urge to vomit rises within her throat. How despicable. Knowing full well what those items meant to her and holding it above her head can only be a childish tyrant’s actions. Still, he has her right in the palm of his hand. It’s a subtle ultimatum that already speaks for itself.

“…will a letter suffice?” Humiliating defeat. Blood roars through her ears, and yet she can only manage a pitiful response. 

It’s obvious Trey is taken back, but after looking at the expression on her face, he drops his eyes and nods. “I can make sure it gets to him.”

Her lips curl into a cracked, sharp grin. If she couldn’t have the honor of saying what she wants to the culprit himself, then she can make sure the words written in smooth cursive will carry all the fire and spite she harbors.

“Wonderful.”

—

“You’re back.” 

Trey nods uneasily at Riddle’s greeting. His housewarden doesn’t have to say anything else, merely holding out a waiting hand. There’s a small pause, a questioning whether Trey should really do this, but it’s gone the moment Riddle’s eyes narrow in impatience, and the letter is in his gloved hand without another word.

Trey watches apprehensively as Riddle slices open the envelope with a letter opener. Bronze handle, with the blade being a sturdy iron. It’s a little thing that escapes most people’s notice, but he remembers. The gift is something Riddle cherishes deeply ever since he received it. After all, only two people send letters to Riddle: his mother, and the Ramshackle prefect.

Trey waits. Riddle’s eyes scan over the papers in his hands. He’s not sure what is going through Riddle’s head right now. He wasn’t privy to what Yuu wrote in her letter nor did he want to be nosy. But he remembers her face. That alone itself is enough for reservations.

Riddle laughs, jarring Trey from his train of thoughts. Trey watches in intrepidation as his housewarden chuckles as if he’s been told the funniest joke of them all.

“Yuu has quite a sense of humor.” Riddle’s laughs finally die down to amused chortles, still reading the paper as fondly as one would read a love letter. However, Trey is quite sure that the contents within that paper are not professments of affection. 

“Trey.” The vice housewarden straightens out of habit at Riddle calling him. His tone indicates an order to be bestowed. “Prepare for another tea party.”

The fifth day of the month has passed a week ago. There’s no Unbirthday parties scheduled in the near future. It’s evident this tea party will not be a public one. But what can he do now? He is only a subject under Riddle’s iron hand—and it is his duty to serve his Queen.

“Of course, Housewarden.”

—

Yuu arrived five minutes early, to account for unexpected matters.

Things such as being stopped for holding a cast iron pan and a dark expression. Thankfully, it seems that other Heartslabyul students knew better than to stop the Ramshackle prefect, and especially not when she’s mad. They quickly slink to the side as they side eye her walking past, casually swinging the pan back and forth in time with her steps. 

She’s sure at the very least it will give Riddle some pause, even if it’s suspicious. It’s not like she has any magic to defend herself with. So he must give some lenience where due.

Trey is waiting for her by the door to the garden. His gold eyes drop to the pan in her hands for a quick second before meeting hers again. He nods in gentle encouragement.

“Go on in. Everything’s set up already.”

Yuu still isn’t really prepared when she steps through the door. She thought the pan in her hand would give enough courage to get through the freezing fear of seeing red. It’s not the same setup as before. There’s no whimsical decorations. Just a simple table with refreshments. And yet, her grip on the pan almost loosens at the sight of the boy sitting at the table.

“You’re on time, for once.” He smiles over his cup of tea, not caring at how her face twists in instinctive disgust. If he’s noticed what’s in her right hand, he gives no indication. “Come, sit.”

Still, Yuu is annoyed–she should be the one driving this conversation, not him. She makes a point by deliberately setting the pan on the quaint table, right next to her teacup. Riddle finally acknowledges the action with a frustratingly fond smile that has Yuu’s blood boiling. She huffs, and allows Riddle to pour her tea.

“Where’s my brooch and ribbons.” It’s not a question. She doesn’t really care for where he has them, all that’s needed is for him to do his part and hand them over. That was part of the deal they made. She hoped that that rigid, upright part of him would still be somewhat intact, even after everything.

Riddle clicks his tongue in mock disapproval. “Patience, my love.” The nickname is enough to have her gripping her teacup too tightly. She’s starting to reach for her pan when thankfully, he reaches within his overcoat and brings out her precious items. They bear no sign of being under duress, all sparkling clean within his palm. Yuu pushes away the thought of how it was like the perfect crime scene; unblemished with no traces to the culprit.

But when Yuu reaches out desperately to grab the accessories, Riddle curls his fingers around them and pulls them out of her reach. Like a cliffhanger, she is left exclaiming in barely contained rage and confusion. 

“Give them back! You–” She has to stop herself, remind herself where she is on this precarious slope. “Riddle. Please. You promised to give them back if I came here.”

“I did.” Riddle once again raises his tea cup to take another agonizing long sip. “I’m simply adding some terms before I do.”

The urge to bash his head in comes back in a violent rush. Who does he think he is?

“And what exactly are those terms?” Yuu asks, curling her fingers once again around the pan next to her. Riddle’s steely eyes only glint in amusement. 

“First, you are not to associate yourself with those underclassmen ruffians anymore.” The verdict is delivered as a death sentence: cold, unfeeling, and absolutely unreasonable. Before Yuu could even try to protest, he continues without even pausing.

“Second, you are to stay by my side as often as possible.” This term has her stopping in her tracks. Ironically, it was more reasonable than the first one. But this is not a contractual term. No, it’s one of his beloved rules-meant to uphold the core of his world.

“My world does not revolve around you, and yours shouldn’t revolve around mine.” Yuu spits the words in choked frustration. “Even if you’re my friend, you’re going way too far.”

Riddle only stares, iron hues boring through her. Yuu feels like she’s being chipped away, slowly but surely against her will. Heartslabyul’s housewarden has always been noted to be headstrong and stubborn. These traits are what won him his throne, after all.

“To correct you, we’re not friends,” Riddle closes his eyes while taking another sip. “How can we be friends, after sharing such an intimate moment together?”

He’s not listening. Of course he isn’t. Why would a Queen deign to listen to a puny subject’s pathetic cries? It doesn’t make her any less angry though. 

“You’re crazy, “ she seethes. Riddle laughs, stern face breaking into a hauntingly delighted smile.

“Am I? I must say, you’re crazier for thinking you can just walk away from me.” His chilling words don’t match his smug face at all. 

She doesn’t hesitate or pause, yet by the time she’s grabbing the pan and bringing it over her head, Riddle’s eyes flash and she’s restrained by some unknown force. It digs into her wrist, making her release the iron pan by instinct and it clangs upon the ground, sliding away a good few feet. Damn him, she couldn’t even see how he activated his magic–his magical pen is nowhere to be found. 

“Oh dear, you weren’t going to resort to violence, were you?” Yuu snarls at Riddle’s condescending chuckle. “It would be most unladylike. Besides, I think you’re forgetting that I’m one of the more powerful mages at this school.”

“Spare me the lecture,” she hisses, tugging at her wrists, desperately trying to dislodge whatever is pinning her in place. Sadistic bastard. 

“There wouldn’t be a need for a lecture in the first place if you would just listen.” Yuu doesn’t miss the sharp edge to his scolding. She finally realizes something about this unknown force purposely digging into her skin, pinpointing her veins and nerves—it reminds her of curved rose thorns, sharp and unforgiving, and completely nasty to remove.

She had walked into a trap.

—

In a way, Yuu was glad to be inside. There were many outdoor elements she would not be fond of at the moment. 

She would still rather it not happen at all. The unknown force had returned at full power and dug into the junction of her wrist and waist when Trey asks her if she is okay. Yuu can only smile as pain flares from nerves being stretched to their limits, assuring him she’s fine. Riddle only took advantage of her inability to speak more to override her completely, sweeping her away to his bedroom with the excuse that she needed rest. 

He’s gotten better, she notes. As she lays upon velvet covers with hair and clothes fanned around her like a halo, it’s the only thing that she can really think of without wanting to vomit. A high pitched moan echoes in the room and Yuu realizes through groggy dizziness that it was from her. The realization is snuffed by another bolt of pleasure wracking through her body, making her arch her back and scream.

Riddle rises above her spread legs, ironed shirt and blazer discarded, humming in satisfaction. A lithe pink tongue peeks out and swipes away shiny liquids coating the lower half of his face. He runs a careless hand to push back his hair, smirking down at her boneless form and glazed eyes. 

“Good girl.” Shame floods her as more cum drools out of her hole in response, a deep seated wanting burning through her body. Gritting her teeth, she can barely even push herself up on a pillow in an attempt to orient herself when Riddle traps her with his arms on the headboard.

“Now, now,” he coos. “We’re not finished here.”

Her breath is stolen away in a single, feral thrust that has her scrabbling for hold on Riddle’s shoulders. 

—

Something shiny draws her eye from the nightstand. When she strains her neck to see what it is, her chest tightens. 

The antique letter opener was one of the most expensive items she had bought when she arrived in this world. Yuu would never have bought it, even for herself. It would’ve been a waste of madol and she could not afford to, what with caring for Grim and their living expenses. As much as she would have enjoyed it as an avid novelist, there simply would have been no point to, especially when she would be returning to her own world.

The circumstances just happened to line up. Riddle’s birthday was nearing, and she had been out for a lark in the town square. A quaint little antique shop had caught her eye, and despite Grim’s bored protests, she dragged her companion to the store’s door eagerly. She had only meant to be window shopping—but the letter opener was too beautiful to pass by. 

The storekeeper chirped something about it being a perfect gift for a significant other when ringing up the purchase. Something about how the creator first carved the symbols of roses around the handle for his wife (for those were her favorite flowers) and gifted it to her, so she would always remember him when she used it. At the time, Yuu only blushed and politely thanked her, and left the establishment with swirling feelings. She thought it preposterous that Riddle and her could ever have such a relationship.

It’s sitting askew on the nightstand, next to an opened letter. She knew whose it was without even looking. Who else sends him letters besides his mother? Yuu only wishes she could reach further and tear that paper to shreds, burn it all to ashes. Riddle stirs, face still buried in her bare chest, soft breaths tickling damp skin. 

She thought of how delighted she was that she had a pen pal in this world. Even if their letters were mostly nonsensical past times, Yuu thought she knew the Riddle everyone else was afraid of. 

Thankfully, Riddle doesn’t stir when she wriggles an arm free of the sheets, slowly, cautiously reaching out towards the nightstand. Her fingers brush against cold metal, barely able to tilt the handle enough to make it slide towards her opened palm. Yuu just barely is able to catch it, the awkward position making the sharp part dig into her flesh. 

Adjusting her hold, she raises the blade above her head. For a moment, she’s frozen in place as her eyes examine the sleeping body laying upon her. Not in hesitation(she is long past morality at this point)—but to figure out where best to strike.

The head is viable, but the blade might be too dull to do any real damage. If she aims just right, she could try going for the heart through his pale shoulder blades. But she’s a novelist, not a mad scientist. The chances she actually manages to pierce his heart is too low and risky (as much as she would love to try). 

His throat, however…

She swears he was sleeping. His eyes were closed, and his breathing slow and steady. But somehow, her aim still misses, just barely slicing skin and missing important nerves to be a fatal blow. Her wrist is caught in a tight grip as Riddle looks up at her with a wry smile.

“Using your gift against me? Rather rude, don’t you think?” His sleepy voice dances with mirth even though his neck bleeds little droplets of crimson. Her eyes follow the trail down his Adam's apple, down his collarbone, and finally, it trickles down and stains the white bedsheets a bright scarlet tint that reminds her of the roses that symbolize the dorm. 

“I’ll kill you.” The words are murmured with quiet conviction. A promise.

The Queen of Hearts laughs.

“Good luck, then, my dear.”

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Sorry for sending so many of these one after the other lmao

Do any Kaiju like cuddles?

WAit I gotta double check but if Sebek is, like, part crocodile/alligator do he,,, carry babies on mouth to keep them safe,,,? (I can imagine the terror any humans woulda felt the first time THAT happened lmao)

ALSO does cay-kun have an odd fixation on cameras? Like his human twst counterpart lol

This AU is making my brain run wild lmfao

Hey, that's perfectly fine! You guys are pretty much the reason I'm able to even think of things to help with the worldbuilding and taking things into consideration I hadn't even thought of! If your brain is running wild with ideas, don't hesitate to share them with me~! >v<

Sebek is a hybrid between a crocodile and a cougar according to the species list, so you can imagine that the first time Yuu and Grim found themselves being carried around in the pouch inside his jaws, they were understandably terrified out of their mind 😂 It doesn't get much less terrifying afterwards, but once they realize he's keeping them safe it becomes somewhat more bearable. At least it's not completely dark with the transparent membrane! They just need their hearing to be spared from the sheer volume of the sounds he makes 😔

Well, given that Cay-Cay is based on a bird and a moth, he most certainly is attracted to the shiny lenses of cameras! It's hard to say for sure when he figured out that they were meant to take photos of the kaiju and environment, but he started displaying unusual behavior shortly after the researchers began their studies: setting up flora around him in what could be considered a decorative display, shifting between light and dark shadows using his wings, and making sure to tilt his head just right before the image is taken. Researchers have sworn that he's hamming it up each time, but it's been an interesting behavior that they never thought they'd observe beyond him grooming himself in the water's reflection!

As for any kaiju that might like cuddles...I suppose it depends on which group you study! One thing is certain though: very rarely will you ever find a kaiju sleeping alone at night due to the temperatures on the island reaching below freezing temperatures even in the hottest places during daylight.

Within their own pack, kaiju are highly social creatures and can be observed grooming each other or displaying playful like behaviors similar to how cats and dogs might play (let's just say that one researcher wanted to test something, and now laser pointers or any variation of the sort has been banned from the island). When it is time to rest, however, there seems to be a pecking order of sorts amongst some of them.

For example: Vil is less likely to have anyone from his pack use him as a "pillow" yet is perfectly content using his wings to keep the others warm (much to Epel's annoyance, but it's hard to argue being nestled under warm, soft feathers when the earth is nothing but frost and ice outside, so he'll take the warm!). Meanwhile, Heartslabyul will pile up together in a large "cuddle pile" to the point it's hard to tell where one starts and the other ends!

When there are perceived hatchlings nearby, however, it's instinct to have them in the center of such piles to keep them warm, meaning that it's the safest place you could ever be!

[kaijime]

lights down low

pt. 2

includes. kuroo tetsurou, bokuto koutarou, tendou satori, sugawara koushi, tsukishima kei, tanaka ryunosuke, oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi, nishinoya yuu.

cw. fem reader, phone sex, masturbation, fingering, toys (vibrator, dildo), slight dom, squirting

a/n. Ok I’m really really sorry about this, I had an ask in my inbox and I think I accidentally deleted it or something, I don’t know what happened. its just not there but I’m gonna answer it anyways.Basically the ask was about making a fic out of this video, go watch it for a little bit of context (it is a little nsfw, you have been warned)

After that disastrous prank from the boys, you were left hot and needy. You gather your things from the couch, where previously there was a calm ambient of doing homework, now it was just an uncomfortable place because you were sweating buckets. On the way to your bed you left your notebooks and pencils on the desk and lay down on the bed. 

Looking back at those pictures, your imagination was left to run. What could those jim shorts be hiding? The thoughts of them around you, making you feel good in all the ways possible, made your mind wander-- and your hand too.

Sneaking a hand into your cute lacy panties, you imagine its someone else’s hand, any other hand but yours. Your finger touches your clit, rubbing small, light circles around it in a teasing motion.

“H-hah- I...” your hand quickly covers your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself. You take off the damp fabric from your heat, lifting your legs to slide it off and throw it into some unknown corner of the room. The room grows hot, as well as your insides, it know has a lust-like vibe. Your body sits straight taking off your shirt and bra, massaging your breast with your left hand while rubbing yourself with the other one.

A few minutes of this made you bored, reaching for the bottom drawer of your bedside table where you hid all the good things. Your breath hitched at the sigh of the familiar toys, the blue dildo and the small bullet vibrator. Taking your previous place on the bed you turn on the small vibrator on the lightest setting and rub it over your nipples, teasing them and leaving breathy moans to slip out of your mouth.

The feeling of the vibrating bullet on your sensitive nub made you go crazy, thinking about how good it would feel to have one of those sexy boys tease them while filling all of your holes. You dragged it through your entire body, from your upper stomach to where you needed it the most.

You were lost in the pleasure, very lost in the pleasure. Still, you could never be lost enough to ignore the ringing of your phone. Your body jumped involuntarily at the scare, scrambling to find the source of the annoying sound that interrupted your session. That’s when you saw it.

Video call from the group chat.

Not just any group chat, the one with all the men you were just fantasizing about. Fuck. There’s no way you couldn’t join, they would think something is wrong with you, when really you’re just trying to get off. You throw on the shirt you had previously discarded.

“Hey hey hey! (Y/n)~ How are you feeling?~” Bokuto’s teasing, sing-song voice welcomed you into the call after you hit the green button on the screen. Even if the group chat was a big one, a few of them weren’t in the call. The ones who usually went to bed early were gone, so that means Kageyama, Akaashi and Asahi were not in the group call. Memories of the prank made you gush, your slick dripping onto your ass and eventually to the sheets, since you didn’t have enough time to throw on some panties, but that’s fine. It’s not like you’re gonna show them anything.

“I’m feeling good y’know, after being harassed with such lewd pictures I’m feeling just peachy!” the sarcastic tone really evident in your voice. A few of them laughed, some remained silent. You didn’t care, you  just wanted the call to be over so you could resume your previous actions. Then Kuroo spoke.

“Yeah here’s the thing (Y/n), if you weren’t reading the chat” which of course you were not, you were too busy trying to relieve the heat these boys had caused you. “We were actually gonna ask you if you could maybe send us something like that?”

“Wh-what?”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but if you did we would never send those pictures to anyone else” The thought of them, wanting to see you in a picture as provocative as theirs made you blush. Your face turned red at the thought, it all felt too good to be true...like a prank.

“Alright... very funny, yeah right” but the boys could not understand what you were saying, they genuinely meant what they said, so they were taken aback that you wouldn’t believe them. Then Tsukishima chipped in on the awkward silence.

“Does it look like were ki-”

“What’s that?” you heard Tendou question. That’s when you looked to your right and saw the dildo, in all its glory, completely visible to the camera. All this time you’ve been talking while all the boys could see the toy you used- or were planning on using.

You quickly cover it with your sheets and cover your own face with your other hand to hide your growing blush and the tears on the corner of your eyes, for one more embarrassing moment with these boys and you would snap.

“How lewd (Y/n)” Nishinoya spoke, his teasing tone not helping you at all.

“Hey come on guys, stop it” said Sugawara. And then there was an awkward silence once more, honestly, it would’ve been better to be endlessly teased than to be in the thoughts of everyone. You could tell they were all silently judging you by the way they stared at the camera. That’s when you broke down, not full on sobbing, just a few tears that trickled down your cheeks.

“Whoa, hey-- sweetie, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing its jut that I feel so bad, I was about to touch myself thinking about all those pictures you guys sent me a-”

“Wha- wait a second, you were going to touch yourself thinking about our pictures?” Tanaka asked, though you couldn’t tell if he was going to be judgy about it or if he genuinely had curiosity. “As in... put that thing inside yourself thinking about us?”

The nod of your head makes the whole group crazy. Just thinking about you, shoving that toy into your heat with your thoughts fixated on them, that made most of them hard, except for Ushi. He simply cleared his throat and said:

“Can you show us?”

“WHAT?!”

“If you feel uncomfortable doing it then don’t but I think everyone here is hard and we could all use the relief, including you soo...”. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. These men, some of them older than you, even, wanted to see you masturbate.

“Are you sure this isn’t a prank?”

“It’s not a prank (Y/n), we all want to see the same thing so if you feel like doing it, whenever you’re ready would be a good place to start” added Oikawa. You swallowed the saliva that had gathered up on your mouth, by this time, the sheets beneath you were soaked in your essence. Someone looking at this from an outside point of view might have described it as peer pressure, but when you set the camera on the end of your bed and spread your legs to show them how hot and bothered they had made your cute little cunny, well, you didn’t feel pressured at all. In fact it all felt so normal, as if this was something normal friends did.

“Oh my god” “Soo hot” “Spread them wide baby” and other praises could be heard from the phone. All the different voices worshiping you and ordering you around made you feel somewhat safe, like you had lost a bit of your control, but you had given it to the right people.

It should be noted that at this time everyone was hard, including Ushijima. You took off your shirt again and a few cheers from Tanaka and Nishinoya were heard. You then did what you would normally do in a horny night, except of course, with the exception that there was a phone with nine friends in front of you. 

“Touch yourself for daddy”

“Uh-huh, I’ll be a good girl for you daddy” pushing your fingers into your hole. “Your cocks are all so pretty” moaning at the sight of they’re long members on the camera, as they used their hands to relieve the hardness.

“You’re being so good for us sugar, put in another finger” Sugawara’s orders made you clench around your small finger, reminding you that it wouldn’t  be enough to satisfy you. A loud moan slips past your lips as you enter another finger into your wet heat. “Good girl, now put the vibrator to your clit, darling”

Doing as you’re told you moan at the sight of all of them jerking off to your sweating figure. Tanaka and Kuroo were in the same position as you were, sitting on your bed with their legs spread to get better access to their cocks, Ushijima, Bokuto and Tsukishima appeared to have their cameras right in front of their dicks, just so that you could get a good close look on how their hands were working on themselves. The rest of them were in different positions that you couldn’t make out because you drifted your gaze to the ceiling, searching for something to help you, to save you from the immense pleasure you were having. 

The little bullet making you shiver in ecstasy. The way your fingers couldn’t reach that special spot inside yourself made you feel sexually frustrated, but you kept fingering yourself, for the sake of all the hot men who were panting and moaning like crazy in front of you. Even if you couldn’t do exactly what you wanted to, you were feeling very good, and you were so close to your orgasm.

“Pull out your fingers and put in the toy” Nishinoya ordered. For a small boy he had some big balls, (metaphorically)

“But daddy! I-I’m sooo close...daddyyyyy”  And you came, your sweet juices seeping out of you as you rubbed yourself with your fingers to gather a bit of your slick. You take that same hand to your mouth, licking all the creamy substance off.

“Ugh, baby” and they moaned out lots of different nicknames, all of them making you clench around the emptiness in your hole. You grab the dildo once again from under the sheets and tease yourself with the tip at your entrance looking into the camera to give the group a good show. Keeping your eyes fixated on the camera you shove the toy into your abused hole. When you feel it reach your pelvis. 

“Daddy, y-...y-you’re so deep inside me-... h-hah” the pace you set is slow, as you realize, too slow, even for you. “Its so big d-daddy!”

“Shut up and take it like a good slut” Tsukishima exclaims, which makes you go harder and deeper into your cunt. You lift your head from where it was buried in the pillows and look at your pussy, the way its taking the big toy makes you clench around it, making it harder to pull it out and push it inside.

“(Y/n)- p-please keep going, I-I’m gonna cum” 

“I-I’m not-... I can’t-t stop” you say pushing the toy further inside and hitting your g-spot. The volume of your moans increases with each hit to that special spot inside you. “I’m go-...a-ah-ah! Daddy I’m cumming” 

“Cum, make a mess l-like the good girl you are d-darling” Suga said in between all his moans. Your insides threw out the blue toy and started spraying your clear essence. You take a hand to your clit to make it last longer. Gushing all over the place, on the bed sheets and even on the phone, which of course only brought the men closer to their climaxes as well. By the time you were finished and taking in what just happened, all of them had released and were just panting in the afterglow of their orgasms.

“Wow” “That was so hot” and other commentaries where made by them.

“We should do this more often”

©️ kaijime 2021 | all content belongs to kaijime, do not modify or repost

[t0wnspersonb]

Reignition (Kozume Kenma x Reader)

Word Count: 2,147

Anonymous said:

Hi! I love your work so much! I was wondering if you could do a Kenma x reader? Where theyre really good childhood friends, but she moved to miyagi (karasuno) for highschool. So then they meet at the training camp and have rekindled feelings?? Sorry if yhis doesnt make sense! Again, I love your work so much!!!!

~~~~

I don’t know why I made this one so long lol. This was a lot of fun to write, anything that has to do with the training camp makes me so happy lmao. I hope you like this one anon! I hope I was able to write it how you wanted!

Another reminder that requests are closing on Saturday! I’m going through them all slowly but surely, after I finish these requests I probably won’t be taking them again for a while, so I can write up some other stories of mine to share with you guys! Anyway, I hope you guys are having a good week!

~~~~

You sighed in exhaustion as you walked through the doors with the chaotic duo. You were never going to babysit these two ever again, no matter what Daichi or Sugawara said.

 If it wasn’t for them you would have already been at the training camp with everyone else, helping Shimizu and Yachi with the manager duties. But fate just wasn’t one your side this time, fearing that the two would ditch their supplementary exams and try to go to Tokyo on their own, Daichi had requested that you stay with them until the exams were done.

 Which meant that you had to also suffer through a crazy drive with Big Sister Saeko, and as much as you loved her, you just so happened to love your life just a tad bit more to never want to suffer through that again. 

 Now you were just exhausted, luckily from the looks of it the practice matches were going to be wrapping up soon, which meant food, showering and a good night’s sleep.

 You sighed once again, your eyes flickering over to your team, you could feel multiple pairs of eyes on you as the three of you walked further into the gym.

 “Thanks for watching them Y/n-chan.” Daichi called out as you approached everyone.

 “You owe me senpai.” was all you said as you walked passed them towards Shimizu and Yachi, wanting to get caught up on what happened while you were gone; completely oblivious to two pairs of lingering eyes coming from the Nekoma team.

 “Must be nice having three managers,” Kuroo muttered, his eyes focusing in on your small figure. “I wonder if that one is new like the blonde one.”

 Of course, everyone’s eyes lingered on your figure a tad bit longer than necessary, curious as to why Karasuno managed to have three managers, and well, because you were incredibly cute. It was fitting that you too would be part of the team, considering there were already two other cute managers.

 The lucky bastards. 

 “Shoyo had mentioned earlier that they convinced one of their managers to come back to the team…” Kenma said quietly, his cat-like eyes following your every movement. “That’s probably her…”

 Of course, Kenma had noticed how good looking you were, but the air of familiarity was too much. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had met you before.

 “Why must the universe be so cruel!?” Yamamoto cried out. 

 Kenma sighed to himself. There was never any peace.

 ***

 “Ne, ne Shoyo! Who was that other manager that walked in with you!?” Inuoka asked curiously.

 Even though Kenma never removed his eyes from his game, he couldn’t help but to sit up straighter, ears perked up. Of course, he was curious too, you seemed incredibly familiar to him. 

 “Oh Y/n-senpai!” Hinata grinned. “She’s a second year at Karasuno, she’s been a manager since her first year.”

 “How come I didn’t see her at the practice match?” Inuoka pondered aloud.

 “Y/n-senpai’s health is very fragile! She was sick for a while and her parents made her quit. But she loves volleyball so much that she begged to come back to the team. Plus, she’s really pretty and a good manager!” Hinata gloated, eyes shining brightly.

 Y/n… Kenma ignored the sudden race to his heart. He knew that name, he knew that name very well. In all honesty, he had never expected hearing it again, much less seeing you again.

 It had been years.

 He couldn’t help but wonder if you remembered him too. 

 Of course, he would remember you, his first love. The one that got away, the other person that he used to play with when he was younger other than - oh that’s right, Kuroo.

 Did Kuroo recognize you too?

 You did look different from when you were younger now that he thinks about it. 

 But then again, he looked different too. Kuroo maybe not so much. Just bigger, still just as annoying though.

 “Well I should get going. We’re playing you guys first thing in the morning!” Hinata said, waving goodbye.

 First thing in the morning?

 Then maybe… he could see you again, right?

 ****

 It was too early, way too early; especially with how rowdy the boys were already being.

 It wasn’t just your boys either, but four extra teams on top of yours? 

 How were you going to survive this training camp?

 “You’ve been sighing a lot this morning, Y/n-chan. Are you feeling okay? Do you need to go rest?” Shimizu asked, a slight concern to her voice.

 “I’m fine senpai; I’m just thinking about how lively everyone is. It’s going to be a long trip isn’t it?” You grimaced, eyes scanning the sea of boys that were currently eating breakfast right now and -

 “Oi! Yuu! Leave Tsukki alone before you break his glasses!” You called out to the libero, pointing the ladle in your hand at him accusingly, eyebrow raised as if daring him to challenge you. 

 The said male apologized, releasing his grip on the tall blonde and sitting down.

 You sighed again, ignoring the giggles of the other managers around you.

 “Y/n-chan is the best at handling our first-year duo and second year duo. They always listen to her, and she’s always looking out for them.” Shimizu explained, a small smile grazing her lips. 

 “Unwillingly.” You stated, “apparently my title as a manager has ‘babysitter’ in it. If I knew Daichi-senpai was going to make me watch those four when he can’t I wouldn’t have come back.” You started saying as you began serving the boys that finally came in for breakfast.

 “I guess I do have some practice,” you begin saying, eyes fixated on the food in front of you as you serve. “when I was younger, I used to play with these two boys that were -” your eyes widened as you looked up to the next set of boys you were about to plate.

 Kuroo looked at you in shock for a moment before a wide grin stretched across his face. While Kenna stood there frozen, although his heart rate was through the roof. 

 “Oya oya oya. If it isn’t little Y/n-chan. I didn’t even recognize you the other day. Who would have thought you’d be a manager at our rival school?” Kuroo said slyly.

 “Tetsu… You look the same.” you grimaced.

 “Oi why are you making that face!?” Kuroo huffed angrily before his eyes slid over to Kenma who was just… staring at you.

 The sweetest smile grazed your lips, your eyes wide and bright and… were you blushing?

 “Kenma.” You said softly.

 He could have died right there, it felt like all the bars in his health evaporated into nothing as soon as you looked at him and said his name. 

 He definitely died and went straight to heaven; especially with a smile like that. 

 “Y/n.” he mumbled softly, eyes flickering away from you, burning holes into his food, ignoring the two pair of eyes that were now staring at him.

 “You’re still just as shy as before.” you laughed softly as you served your childhood friends.

 “We’ll have to catch up sometime Y/n-chan.” Kuroo said before walking off to find a table. 

 “Kenma.” you called out before he could scurry away with Kuroo. He glanced at you once more, pausing for you to continue.

 “I’ve missed you. We should catch up soon.” you said quietly, a soft blush beginning to coat your cheeks.

 “Yeah.” he nodded at you once more before walking off, leaving your heart racing and your cheeks flushed.

 Even after all these years... could that be considered true love? You wondered, ignoring the giggles, and pointed looks all of the other girls were giving you.

 But internally you were squealing as well.

 ****

 The next couple of days you did exactly what you said you would do; you caught up with your childhood friends. 

 When you had finally returned for the week-long training camp, you were glued to the Nekoma team, much to Karasuno’s annoyance.

 Right now, you were handing out watermelon, a sweet smile glued to your face as you made sure your boys got some and then making sure that Nekoma did as well. 

 “Do you want seconds Kenma?” you asked, sitting next to the pudding haired boy. His eyes slid over to you before he shook his head and took out his phone, pulling up a mobile game.

 You scooted closer to him, your head finding his shoulders, eyes glued to the screen.

 You felt Kenma stiffen at the sudden contact, but soon relaxed as you guys drifted into comfortable silence. 

 This was all too familiar, you would always watch Kenma play video games when you were younger, it was entertaining and it didn’t involve strenuous work, which meant it was great for you due to your fragile health. 

 Plus, you got to be close to him, that was another bonus.

 Kenma ignored the racing of his heart and tried to beat down the smugness that filled his body as he received envious looks from the others. 

 The two of you were always close, you were the one person he didn’t mind receiving affection from, although it never really appeared that way.

 “Oi Y/n-chan, can you fill up our water bottles before the next match?” Kuroo called out. 

 “I’m not your manager Tetsurou. But I guess.” You rolled your eyes at him, heaving yourself up and dusting off your shorts.

 “I’ll go with you Y/n.” Kenma said quietly, putting his phone back into his pocket as he stood up.

 You couldn’t help the blush and smile that spread across your face at his offer, that just meant you got to spend more time with him, you’d fill up Nekoma’s water bottles any day if it meant more time with Kenma.

 Kenma was quiet as you talked about everything and anything as you guys walked towards the water fountains.

 It wasn’t that he was ignoring you, rather, his head was consumed by thoughts of you. He wanted to voice his feelings, he could only assume that you liked him too, from the way you acted around him, the way you treated him.

 Even though you guys were apart for years, it felt like you had never left his side. Everything was familiar, everything was comfortable, he liked that, he liked that a lot.

 “- As much as I admire and respect my senpais, it’s just not fair that they want me to teach those two on top of babysitting them and -” 

 “Y/n.” Kenma interrupted your animated storytelling, his slender fingers gently grabbing at your hand that held a water bottle.

 You looked up at him in surprise. 

 Why…. why was he looking at you like that? You could feel heat beginning to creep up into your cheeks, your stomach twisting with butterflies.

 Kenma’s piercing eyes bore into your own, there was a softness to them, but there was also a hardened look of determination.

 “What’s wrong?” You asked quietly, placing the water bottle down and you turned your body towards him completely. 

 He grasped both of your hands in his, eyes flickering down to stare at them before they softly trailed up your arms until they rested gently on top of your shoulders.

 “Do you like me?” he asked, peering down at you.

 “W-What are you talking about?” you asked nervously, eyes flickering away from his intense gaze. “O-Of course I like you Kenma, you’re my best -”

 “That’s not what I mean.” He cut you off. “If you don’t like me then you can push me away, but I’m not going to hold back anymore.” 

 “What do you mean hold back -”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 He was kissing you. Kenma’s lips were surprisingly soft and slightly cold, but they fit perfectly against your own. The kiss was lingering and gentle, hesitant almost.

 But it was your first kiss.

 Your first kiss with your best friend, your crush since childhood, your first love. It was… it was perfect. 

 This was perfect.

 All too soon he pulled away, taking a small step back to give you some space.

 Both of your faces flushed.

 Someone cleared their throat loudly, causing you guys to jump further away from each other.

 “I was wondering what was taking you guys so long.” Kuroo grinned wickedly. “If I would have known you guys were sucking face, I wouldn’t have come.”

 “Shut up Kuroo.” Kenma scowled.

 “So… did you guys finally confess to each other?” he asked, ignoring him completely.

 “Y/n is mine.” Kenma said simply, finishing up the last water bottle, grabbing your hand gently and tugging you away. “Since you’re here Kuroo you can take the water bottles back to the gym.” 

 A soft giggle escaped your lips as he tugged you away, causing a small smile to erupt on his face.

 “Damn you Kenma!” Kuroo yelled out. 

[courtlyharlequin]

Amaranthine

Warning(s): female reader, mentions of anxiety, slow burn (I think), 17K word count, self-indulgence, Vivi’s Vil brain rot with no plot,  not proofread

Summary: There was this monster inside your head. It went by the name of Anxiety. To you, it was, and always be, more so of a parasite you couldn’t live with, but you also couldn’t live without. It looked after you in the strangest of times. For the most part, it was a hindrance, cluttering your mind with dark and bitter thoughts, assuming the worst in people you’ve never met before, jumping to conclusions, and crying over the smallest things. It made you extremely aware of yourself and others, for better or for worse. That was Anxiety, the monster in your head. The exact moment in time when it nestled instead into your mind is unknown to this day, festering in the back of your mind. Then there was Vil Schoenheit, your lover, your soulmate, and most importantly, your pillar of support who cheered you on in his own way. He taught you how to tame Anxiety. But alas, a monster will always be a monster.

A/N: It’s my birthdayyyyyy~ so I made a very, very, very self-indulgent fic for myself. While I did write it as a reader insert, it pertains to my mental health, particularly my anxiety, and there may be aspects of it that you may not understand. That is okay. I wanted some feels with Vil on my birthday because I have a case of Malleus syndrome;;;

A/N²: To clear things up, the reader in this fic is female. She is not Yuu (I usually write the reader as Yuu and yes, I’m aware they can be two separate entities). She likes to scrapbook, bake, and wear lolita clothing. She also attends NRC though her dorm is left pretty open-ended. However, it might not make sense if you’re in Pomefiore. This might not work if your birthday is in March either. I’m sorry asdfghjkl;

Disclaimer: Please note that this is not a fanfic that romanticizes mental illnesses. A significant other cannot solve everything. They shouldn’t solve everything. They aren’t meant to fix you; they’re there to bring out the best in you and be by your side when you need them to be. By no means, is it their job to help your completely overcome your mental illnesses. It’s a common trope in fanfiction and gives off mixed signals to me. This self-indulgent fanfic of mine is not meant to give anyone false hope. It is simply a love story that I always wanted to experience. Think of it as my own anxiety story. The only thing real about this is some events like the presentation meltdown though my partner eventually turned into my middle school bully so I just replaced him with Vil because Vil>>>>>>

[ Present Day, Vil’s Bedroom ]

Fwip!

You flinched. You looked up. Vil had flicked your forehead. His eyes were filled with worry, brows creased and his lips strung in a frown.

“Fairest, is something on your mind?” he asked.

“No. Not at all.”

“Hold still for a minute. This lip tint is watery,” he said in a stern tone, tilting your chin upwards

He lined your lips in red and handed you a small mirror.

“Beautiful, my love.”

You stared at your expression. Vil was right. You were beautiful, all dolled up in this getup. You were prettier than usual, that’s for sure. However, the look isn’t for you or your hollow eyes. He snapped his fingers.

“Fairest,” he paused, sitting down on his bed, patting the space next to him, “Come here.”

You obliged.

“Now, talk to me. Don’t deny it. Something is on your mind. You’ve been zoning out all day. If you need a break just say so.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I was just thinking…”

“Thinking?”

“Yes. About the past and whatnot. Trivial things! No matter,” you dismissed, leaning onto his shoulder.

Vil crossed his legs, “How could I help you if you give me such a vague answer?”

Had he truly forgotten your special day, the only day you were willing to break out of your shell and be showered in compliments and praise without feeling like an alien? While you didn’t have a cake to share and you were certain that he wouldn’t want to eat it either, you expected he would remember the date as your lover of seven months now. So far, he only asked you to drop by his room for makeup practice as he just landed a part-time job as a makeup artist. Not that you minded of course. He made you feel beautiful, one of the many reasons you loved him.

“I don’t think it’s something you can help me with. I was thinking about middle school and—”

“Don’t waste your time with those fools.”

“I told you it was trivial.”

You nuzzled against his shoulders.

“It’s been hard lately, you know? I’ve been overthinking again. About silly things. Group projects, you know? Presentations too. Ah, there was this one person who told me to shut up because of a misunderstanding and everyone laughed and I felt— But you mustn’t hurt them!”

You clutched his arm. His posture had stiffened. He gave you a blank expression though his eyes told the whole story.

“I felt a little out of place. Things were going fine until they showed up. It’s not their fault, don’t worry. I was excited to talk to them, but it ended up going downhill. I felt like I was overstepping my boundaries. It was embarrassing,” you continued.

“I know you don’t like it when I say this but it’s not as bad as you think it is. Know that you made progress compared to your pot– first year self,” Vil said, squeeze your hand, ���If you want help with your presentations, then I’m here for you— as always.”

Straightforward as always. He never tolerated things he deems piffling, but you were glad he didn’t pity you, not one bit.

“I’m sorry for bothering—”

He placed the tip of his index finger on your nose.

“What do we say instead of apologizing for something we cannot control?”

“T-Thank you.”

“Go on now.”

“...for listening to me.”

“My pleasure, Fairest.”

His finger shifted as he cupped your cheek with one hand, leaning in to kiss your forehead. He must’ve forgotten your birthday, but you mustn’t going to ruin the mood. You watched his back as he gathered his makeup brushes. Vil was a busy man though that was something you were used to as his lover.

[ Two Years Prior, Alchemy Classroom ]

“Are you just going to sit there while everyone picks their partners, little potato?”

You flinched at the sudden comment. Potato? You had a name. Did you do something to be labeled in such a way? Moreover, what was the Vil Schoenheit doing standing in front of your desk? You prayed for the conversation to be brief. Part of you also prayed for him to ask to be partners.

“What are you staring at? Answer.”

You shook your head. This was bad. You were staring at him for too long. While you were dying from embarrassment, you let your gaze linger for a little longer. He was gorgeous. You loved how his blonde hair transitioned into a pale lavender, complimenting his violet eyes, eye makeup, and fair complexion.

Vil snapped his fingers before your field of vision.

“I know you aren’t mute. Answer.”

“Probably…” you said.

“Hah? That won’t do, potato. I’ll be your partner then.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, ‘I’ll be your partner’. Now, move over.  We’re in direct sunlight here and it won’t do any good for our skin if we sit there everyday for so long even if we are indoors.”

You nodded, sliding one seat over. He sat down next to you, arms and legs crossed. He seems mad, concerned with something, something else. His body language didn't match his facial expressions though he wasn’t hard to read. 

“Why me?”

You bit your lip, cringing at your own inquiry.

“You seem responsible enough to be my partner for this project,” he said, propping his head on his elbow, turning to face the blackboard.

What did he mean by that? Sure, you were responsible, but were you worth noting of? You were decent, not the best but not the worse either. Failing a class meant coming the topic of conversation when a teacher asks you to stay after class for a brief checkup or tutoring sessions. Excelling in a class meant being called out on your exemplary work by teachers. Anxiety was not equipped for either circumstances therefore it tried to help you maintain your grades discreetly. But Vil noticed, indicating that you were overachieving. Perhaps you should purposefully miss a few questions on the next quiz. You got a perfect score last time. It wouldn’t hurt. However, you were partnered with Vil, someone who strived for perfection, someone who stood out against a crowd. The phrase goes “...like a sore thumb”, but Vil stood out like a well polished and manicured appendage. He was beautiful, so beautiful that one had to stop for a moment to admire his beauty.

That was Vil, your partner. You could feel heavy stares in your direction. They were directed at Vil, but you couldn’t help feeling nervous. You fiddled with the ends of your hair, fixating your eyes onto your textbook.

You flinched when Vil pushed your back lightly. You shot him a widened stare, opening your mouth to ask him why he touched you. He placed a finger on your lips.

“Bad posture isn’t good for you. Straighten up and pay attention.”

Heat rose to your face as you adjusted your posture. 

[ Library ]

“Mind telling me what this is, potato?” Vil said, throwing a stack of papers onto the table.

Your shoulders tensed. You set your textbook down, avoiding eye contact.

“It’s our project.”

“No. It’s your project.”

“I wrote your name on it too so don’t worry about it. I don’t mind sharing the credit.”

“It’s not about the credit. It’s about the integrity. I dropped by Crewel’s office hours today with a question about this project and he told me that we had already turned it in. Fortunately for you, I’m good at improvising so we’re off the hook. I got our project back so we can work on it together.  Scoot over so we can get started. I’m assuming you also did the slideshow, but I–”

As usual, you complied to his demands, allowing him to sit next to you. He was a bit too close for comfort. Your peers could manage with this proximity so you probably could too if you took deep breaths every now and then. 

“We only have a day left, you know.”

“I know.”

“So why bother?”

Vil clicked his tongue, throwing his French braid over his shoulder as he slid the stool closer to the desk, “I bother because we’re a team.”

He paused, pondering, “I don’t like things being handed to me either.”

“That’s gold especially since this is coming from someone who’s always too busy to even reply to my texts,” you replied.

As soon as those words left your mouth, you bit your tongue. Was that too much? Should you have just listened to him? Kept quite? How will he react? Will he shame you on social media? Spread rumors? Tell Crewel?

“Listen here, potato. I work various part-time jobs and I run a club. I apologize for my poor time management, but I am here now. You, on the other hand, have only sent me one text pertaining to scheduling and this assignment during the three weeks we had to do it. We are both at fault, got that?”

“Yes,” you murmured, pulling out your laptop.

“Wonderful. You won’t have to rewrite everything. Just subtracting here and adding some words there for smoother transitions. It’ll sound better.”

You bit your lip. You were hoping that because you made the entire presentation, Vil would take up the speaking part out of guilt. Unfortunately for you, he was too self-righteous to give in. He can’t be persuaded either. His eyes were glued onto his own laptop, typing the evening away.

You’ll have to make due.

[ Presentation Day, Alchemy Classroom ]

From the brief time you’ve interacted with him, you knew that Vil was meant to be in the spotlight. He shined brightly, you could feel his charisma even from the back from the classroom. His performance was worthy of a standing ovation. You could never compete with him, let alone get through a single presentation. You had made it through all of your slides, but every time Vil spoke, you felt out of place. Your hands were shaking and you were on the brink of tears. Your peers must think you were incompetent. Their intense stares were unbearable. Did they pity you? Or Vil?

“It’s your turn,” Vil whispered.

You refused. His hand twitched as he grabbed your shoulders. This exchange was awkward enough yet your silent plea for help didn’t reach him.

“Go, potato.”

“No.”

He enunciated his words, “It’s. Your. Turn”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand,” you cried.

Vil’s expression softened. He reached for you and you braced yourself yet it never came. He huffed and proceeded with the rest of the slides.

Ah… crying in the first semester as a first year in high school? Because of a presentation overwhelming you? Wonderful. You’ll never be able to live that down. Should you transfer to RSA then? No, that won’t do. They had mandatory choir classes or so you heard. Maybe an ordinary high school from your hometown then? But what if the headmaster disapproved?

You meekly walked up to Crewel, “I’m going to the infirmary.”

Your instructor only nodded with reluctance. Dissatisfaction was written across his face, but turning down a frantic student in tears for an unknown reason would be frowned upon. You heard him mutter something about the puppies this year being too sheltered. You gave Vil a second glance before heading out. He brushed you off and continued with the deliverable. 

You were hopeless.

[ Infirmary ]

You pulled the covers closer to your face, hiding behind your hair. He was there. Why?

“(y/n),” he said.

You inched away from him. He finally called you by your name. Not by “potato”. Why were you a potato in the first place? Was it because you were beneath dirt? Were you that ugly to be beneath him?

“Are you just going to stay here forever? Curfew is soon. You should hurry and get to the mirror chamber.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, potato.”

 You were beneath him. The tears won’t stop falling. You were trembling.

“What did I do this time?” he sighed.

His voice was firm. He must’ve been irritated by today’s stunt.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just leave me alone... please.”

The blanket shrouded your eyes. How pathetic. How could you let him of all people see you in such a miserable state? You’ve only seen his social media profile once or twice. Was he the type to post and gossip about others?

The mattress sank as Vil sat down. You hugged your sides.

“Fine then. Be a stubborn potato.”

“... You honestly did nothing wrong. I’m the problem. I can’t function as a human being. I can’t talk to people. I can’t- Well, I can but it’s...”

“Difficult?”

“Yeah.”

“What is there to be scared of? Follow that trick where you pretend everyone is potato.”

Is that where the potato shtick came from? How reassuring. His tone was unchanging in pitch. Was he trying to comfort or criticize you?

“It's more complicated than just being shy. It’s tiring. I don’t have a clear mind. I worry too much. I spend my days in fear. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

Vil pulled the covers off your small figure. You turned to him in a haze.

“I believe the term is ‘anxiety’, potato,” he said.

“Y-Yeah. Was it obvious? It probably was. Pretty silly now that I think about it, but anyways curfew–”

“Did you think I was stuck in some era where I don’t even acknowledge mental health? And would look down on you because you have anxiety? Please. Give me more credit than that. I’m not close-minded. You’re still a person and you have feelings. So you have anxiety. What of it? Certainly no less of a person.”

Oh how your heart fluttered.

“Get up. You can stay at the Pomefiore dorms tonight. I should get you cleaned up. I can’t stand the sight of those red and puffy eyes…. Cheer up a bit, will you?”

He held out his hand. Was this his way of apologizing? It wasn’t his fault you crumbled in the first place so why? What did he want? Did he want to help you out to boost his reputation?

“Why are you helping me?”

“You clearly need help don’t you?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yes or no, potato.”

“I can’t burden you more than I have,” you shook your head.

“I talked it over with Crewel. You’re fine.”

“I suppose I’m not excused either.”

You shrugged off the blankets and took Vil’s hand.

“No, you are. He seemed to be under the impression that you were actually ill,” he said, tapping his finger against his cheek.

“Then–”

“Leave it for now. We can discuss this over tea. After we clean you up though.”

“Do you pity me?”

What if you sounded desperate? What if you sounded needy? Was that needy? Would he change his mind? 

You clamped a hand over your mouth. Vil squinted at you as if he was trying to inspect a stain on a fine textile. He proceeded to grab your cheeks, squeezing them. He exercised his authority.

“I. Do. Not. Remember that. I don’t stoop that low. Good grief.”

“Then... what’s the price?” you cried.

“Excuse me?”

“Your time is valuable, isn’t it? You’re clearly busy. Why are you wasting your precious time on me? Shouldn’t you be compensated for the time I’ve wasted?”

“Yes, my time is valuable, but we can talk about compensation another time.”

He let his hand go, leaving you to gasp in sheer terror. So forceful… he scared you. What did he want from you?

“You coming, (y/n)?”

“Yeah.”

[ Pomefiore Dormitory, Vil’s Bedroom ]

“Hold still. After you cleanse your skin with this superfruit cleanser, you have to apply this fir extract to exfoliate. It’ll sting, and it’s even worse when you get it in your eye, so be careful. Try not to move too much, potato.”

Vil dabbed the cotton ball on your face meticulously. You felt like a celebrity with your own hair and makeup team.

“There. All done,” he beamed.

He spun the chair around so you faced the vanity mirror.

“Beautiful. One hundred points for you.”

You gripped the hem of his shirt. He shouldn’t say things like that and expect you not to combust. What’s more was that this attire was incredibly lewd. What if someone came in and got the wrong idea? What if they spread rumors? You were wearing nothing but his shirt after all. It was long enough to reach your knees, but it was his shirt regardless.

“What do you think, potato?”

“It’s nice, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It’s not for me?”

“Well, I think it does,” he said.

You patted your cheeks. Soft. Oh dear, you were soft.

“Ah, ah. Don’t touch,” he scolded, prying your hands away.

Goodness you were hopeless.

“Eh? Stop crying. No! Don’t rub your eyes either. Let me get you some tissues.”

Annoyance was etched into his speech, but his actions betrayed his words. He never left your side; he wiped your tears with his own thumbs. You held his wrists tenderly. His touch was like a thousand butterfly kisses.

“I’m sorry. I just… Annoying… Nobody… I’m not.. You…”

He sighed, “Don’t apologize for your feelings. You’re not that annoying as you think. Instead, why don’t you try saying thank you?”

“Thank you?”

“Yes, something like ‘thank you for listening to me’. That shouldn’t be hard for you now, is it?”

“Thank you… for not being annoyed with me.”

Vil palmed his face, “Not that bad. We’ll work on it. Twenty points for you.”

You sniffled and broke out into a small fit of laughter. He smiled too, standing up straight. He towered over you. He was a giant. You watched his back as he approached his bed, fluffing up the pillows.  His heels clicked and clacked against the flooring. He was still in his school uniform. When was he going to sleep? Didn’t he say he wanted you to stay here? People would really get the wrong idea now. You tugged at his sleeves. Vil turned to you, waiting for you to speak.

“I’ll be going now.”

He grabbed your wrist, “Stay.”

You pulled away from him.

“No, not like that. I’m not going to do anything to you, potato. You really have to stop associating me with other potatoes. I meant stay for some tea. Of course, if you really feel uncomfortable then you’re free to go, but at least let me walk you back.”

“I’ll stay,” you said.

“Wonderful. Give me a moment to fix the bedding. The tea should be ready by then.”

When did he prepare the tea? When you were bathing? When you were changing into his pajamas?

“Vil, if I do stay the night, where will I be sleeping?“

“We have one spare room left over since one student never showed up to the ceremony so you can sleep there.”

You sighed, shoulders at ease.

“Did you honestly think I would let you sleep here? No, potato, I need my beauty rest.”

“No, not at all.”

“You are terrible at lying.”

“I’m not dirty minded I promise!”

“Did I say you were?” he smirked.

Vil had a frisky side to him… how unexpected. Nevertheless, you were relieved. You had insomnia already. If you had to sleep next to Vil… you would never see the dawn again.

“Potato, your tea.”

You jumped.

“Careful! It’s hot and these pajamas are made of silk. I dare you to stain them,” Vil scolded.

You nodded. He handed you a tea cup. 

“I was hoping to talk some things over with you, but it’s getting late. You can take this to the spare room down the hall and relax. Self-care time if you will. Here’s a bag for you to put your dirty clothes in. You can drop it off in the morning to the ghosts for laundry. When you get the chance to change, return the top to me. Capeesh?”

“Capeesh...” you mumbled, turning to the door, fumbling with the tea cup.

“(y/n),” he said.

“Yes?”

“Don’t disturb my beauty sleep.”

“Got it.”

“You didn’t let me finish, potato. You can disturb me if you need help with anything else regarding your anxiety. I won’t do things on your behalf, but I’m there to hold your hand. Just not during my beauty sleep, okay?”

“Okay…”

Vil was not lying when he said he wouldn’t treat you any less of a human. Even if there was a monster in your head, Vil treated you like he would anyone.  Perhaps he wasn’t so bad. But how could he say such things with a straight face? It sounded like something out of a fairy tale. 

No, no, (y/n). You mustn’t catch feelings for someone this quickly. If anything, you were in love with the idea of him, his kindness, how he helped you out and cared for you. But was it even kindness?

Even if these feelings weren’t spawned from the idea of loving him, Vil would never return them. He seemed to be the type to be into someone independent. Or at least someone who was not broken. 

Mainly the former, it would seem. He didn’t pack your clothes even though he was the one who demanded that you strip, plunging you into a rose petal and lavender sprig bath. Admittedly, it was relaxing. He said something about lavender having a calming effect earlier. You smelt nice too. 

Maybe for today, you could be comfortable in your own skin. Just this once. You smelt really nice.

[ Four Weeks Later, Alchemy Classroom ]

“Alright, puppies. We have another lab project. The details are in the packet. You are to concoct a potion using the ingredients we learned about this unit. Any potion is fine, but Amortentia is forbidden– as usual. This project will be due in two weeks. You will present your findings to the class in small groups. You can choose your partners. You were good puppies for the last few weeks so I’ll let you choose this time. Do not disappoint me,” Crewel said, cracking his whip.

You watched as the class swarmed into a chaotic mass. Students laughed and embraced one another. You scanned the crowd, looking for someone as unfortunate as you, someone without a partner.

“(y/n). Would you like to be partners?”

Oh. Vil. After all this time, you were baffled by the fact that he continued to interact with you after your meltdown weeks ago. What’s more is that he even followed you back on Magicam. He engaged in conversations with you, asking to check answers with you despite passing tests with flying colors just as you did. You never minded per se. Vil always had something to say. He wasn’t talkative, but he was captivating and civil with a hint of sarcasm. He had a lot to critique. Moreover, you two were from different worlds. Whenever he shared stories about his life, from modeling to troublesome classmates, you felt like a child with a new toy. You were immersed, zoned out of your surroundings, your focus on that one, single thing. In turn, you shared your own anecdotes, anxiety struggles and small victories— to which he celebrated with you through small, almost satirized, cheers and affirmations. 

You were comfortable around him. Anxiety kept you from advancing your acquaintanceship to a friendship, but you were more than happy with sharing homework answers and making small talk. Vil most likely wanted to work with you because, as he said so before, you were reliable. Or was it responsible? Whatever the word was,  you were useful to him. You were noticed in the best way possible. A twisted way to put it, but that’s simply how you felt.

Vil was not what Anxiety said he was and that was more than good enough for you.

“Sure,” you said.

“Wonderful,” he smiled.

You slid over as he took a seat next to you. Away from the sun, just as he liked it. You remembered your first encounter well.

“We’re presenting in small groups this time so you don’t have to worry that much about it,” he paused before continuing, “We can practice. When are you available?”

“Any time, really, I don’t have any clubs.. Or part-time jobs.”

“How does this Friday sound then? I’ll ask my manager to clear my schedule for that day.”

“You don’t have to clear your schedule. I can manage even if you come back late… Just don’t come to me the day before the deadline?”

Were you being too bold with this request?

“Friday then,” Vil said, flipping through the packet, “What type of potion do you want to make?”

“You can choose. I’m not really sure.”

“No, you are sure. You keep staring at that one page. I know you’ve read everything the moment it was handed to you. You certainly weren’t zoning out either.”

If there was anything worth noting about Vil over the short time that you’ve known him, it was that he was observant. Profoundly observant. Perhaps even more than you.

Vil clicked his tongue: “Spit it out, potato. I won’t judge you. I don’t have much of a preference either. We can compromise if we don’t agree.”

“Amortentia,” you winced.

“Now, that we can’t do,” he waved, “Didn’t you hear the professor say?”

“I did, but the structure of this potion is so intricate. I want to try.”

“Aphrodisiacs are prohibited. We can’t do it.”

“I know. I can dream though.”

“Do you have a boy in mind, potato?”

“It’s not like that,” you huffed.

If only he knew. You were head over heels for him– or rather the idea of him, someone who accepted you wholly without ever wanting to tame the monster inside your head. You weren’t sure if you loved Vil for who he was or what he did for you as a classmate. Do mere classmates have afternoon tea in each other’s dorms? Did they engage in small talk frequently?

Vil chuckled, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, potato.”

[ Friday, Library ]

“You’re late, (y/n),” Vil said, leaning against the door frame.

“Sorry.”

“I hope you weren’t planning on skipping out.”

“No, sir.”

“Sir? I’m not that old, you potato.”

You weren’t fond of the session already. While you enjoyed talking to Vil, his strict attitude was oftentimes a trigger for Anxiety. Vil made it rage, rattling against the cage that encasing your heart. It didn’t fancy that. Neither did you.

“Come sit,” he walked over to the desk.

His braid swayed back and forth. You followed him in suit, taking a seat. Vil reached for your shoulders and the small of your back. You yelped.

“Posture is the first step to confidence. If you shrink, you’ll portray your nervousness in the most obvious way possible. Feet flat on the ground and shoulders back.”

You felt exposed, flustered, but not to Vil’s touch. You felt vulnerable to a nonexistent crowd. 

Vil stood up and took a seat before you, staring at you intently.

“Now, deep breath. Scan the crowd and focus on a point behind them, away from their eyes, but still in their direction. Remember to look around occasionally so it’s not obvious that you’re staring at the back of the room. You don’t have to make direct eye contact.”

You nodded sheepishly and obeyed. It wasn’t difficult. You could stare into his eyes forever. You hoped it wouldn’t be too awkward if you kept your gaze fixed on his.

“Shall we begin?”

[  Two Weeks Later, Alchemy Classroom ]

“Hold still, potato,” Vil hissed.

He held your jaw steadily as he applied a glossy red lip tint onto your lips. In a classroom. In public. How many people were staring at you two? What did they think? Did they think you were his plaything?

“I don’t see the point in dressing up.”

“Please. Lip tint and a few touch ups isn’t ‘dressing up’. Plus, you’ll feel more confident if you look confident. Own it, my friend.”

Friend? You were his friend? You could feel your cheeks getting rosy. At the same time, you felt a surge of adrenaline. Was it confidence? You were on cloud nine, feeling unstoppable. If he said so, then Vil would be your first friend at Night Raven College outside of your dorm. 

But… what if he didn’t mean it?

No, no. he meant it. There was no need for Vil to lie. For him, lying was pointless. It was a waste of time; he preferred to get straight to the point even if it might be harsh on someone’s feelings. You’d learn to accept that his words come from honest intentions.

Crewel blew his whistle, signaling start time. Students flocked to their not-so-small groups. Vil had volunteered for the both of you to go first despite your protests, saying that it would be best to go first so you would not overthink and compare your presentation to others. 

“I’m Vil Schoenheiit.”

He squeezed your thigh. The gesture was of chaste intentions, you were sure. Your leg was the only place he could touch in hindsight. Or so you assumed. Regardless, it set your insides on fire, but it made his presence known— as if to say “I’m here, don’t worry.”

Your breath hitched: “And I’m (y/n) (l/n).”

[ One Day Later, Vil’s Bedroom ]

“Potato, what are you doing here? It’s the weekend.”

You hugged your sides. He was sweating. You’ve never seen Vil in anything but his school uniform, Pomefiore’s dorm uniform, and pajamas. There he was… standing right before you in a stormy gray tank top. While he was wearing pajama bottoms, the look was foreign to you. What should you say? You never knew he worked out.  Were those weights heavy? Is he training for a certain role?

“I have something for you: a small thank you gift for yesterday,” you said, brushing past your thoughts.

“Oh? You don’t have to thank me. I wanted a good grade too so don’t think too highly of me… Simply improving is enough.”

You shook your head, “I insist. I want to do something for you too. I would feel guilty if it were any other way.”

Vil rested his palm on your head. You looked up at him attentively. The height difference between the both of you was immense. Compared to Vil, you were a dwarf.

“What is it that you want to show me?” he sighed.

You jumped with excitement, handing him a small container. He took them.

“What’s this?”

“Open them.”

“Alright, alright. Such a demanding potato…”

You watched him gingerly pop off the lid to reveal your culinary creation. Your eyes wandered back to his violet orbs.

“Potato, what is this?”

Did he honestly not know or did he think you were jesting?

“They’re oatmeal raisin cookies. I made them myself. It’s all organic ingredients, I promise. There’s apples in it too. I know you watch your diet, but I think it would be okay if you ate just one. At least?”

You scratched the back of your neck while Vil stared at them in bewilderment.

“Just one.”

“Yay~”

His furrowed eyebrows softened as he took a bite, “Not bad, potato.”

He placed it back in the container and closed the lid. Your heart sank. Was it just for show? Were they bad?

“Don’t take it personally. They are delicious. I don’t eat too many sweets though. I… also have a meeting with my producers after this. So perhaps later, my dear.”

“Oh alright.”

[ Someday– Your Birthday, Alchemy Classroom ]

You weren’t sure what kind of strings were pulled or if this class had free seating, but Vil gradually sat closer and closer to you. Now, his seat was next to you. He said that it was because he could not stand the other potatoes near his old seat and that he’d much rather sit with a friend who helped him stay on task– which in turn made your heart melt.

Answers weren’t the only things you two shared now. You often brought snacks to share with him. You brought healthy ones like apple crisps and celery sticks for accommodate the diet of your classmate. He only consumed workout smoothies in the morning. He would drink one before he went for a run with no post-workout smoothies to make up for the calories he burnt. For someone who claims to life a healthy lifestyle, Vil was oftentimes too busy to keep up with it. He rose when the sun kissed the tips of the hills. Granted, he could have risen earlier so he could consume his post-workout meal, but his work trails later in the night. Sleep was important to him. Between balancing his beauty sleep and fitness regime, he frequently came to Alchemy with his hair still wet from a morning shower, his eyes caked with concelaer, and an empty stomach.

The first time you offered him something to munch on and regain the calories burnt, he declined. But as these days became more frequent, Vil caved.  

“Potato.”

He slumped against his desk– a rare sight from the Pomefiore student.

“You should stop pushing yourself,” you said, taking out a container.

He shook his head.

“A break would be nice once in a while, Vil.”

He rolled his eyes, slipping off his gloves to take off the lid. God, he was so stubborn. He was going to burn out one day.

“I don’t mind sharing food with you, but you should pace yourself. Take a day off”

He shook his head again. Why though? Did his schedule not allow him to? Vil worked late sometimes, but was it worth it?

“Potato.”

“Hm?”

“Do you have anything aside from these cookies?”

You inhaled sharply, closing the lid and shoving it in your bag. They might have crumbled, but you didn’t want him to know. 

“Unfortunately, no sorry,” you sighed, clutching your bag’s handle.

“Fine then. I’ll just eat one then.”

“No.”

“Why not? “

“It’s not healthy for you.”

Vil lunged for your bag. His stomach growled. You did your best to stifle a giggle. 

“You just said it was alright to take a break,” he said.

“You can’t have them.”

“How come?”

“They’re for me…” you whispered.

“Come again?”

“These are mine.”

He hummed, clearly not buying into your excuse. Perhaps excuse was not the right word because they were for you. They were self-indulgent treats that you made for yourself around this time of year. They were self-indulgent with a miserable origin. 

At this point, he was gripping your wrist. Since when was VIl this forceful? He never crossed any boundaries. He was never nosy. Was he concerned? Or did the madness of hunger consume him?

He was akin to a stray kitten. You were the one to offer him food in the first place. There were two cookies. One wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine. Just one. Please don’t eat the other though. I’d like to eat one on my birthday.”

“Birthday? Potat–”

You put your hand over his mouth on impulse. He was going to throw a fit with you for placing your “breeding ground for bacteria”  on his face, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Don’t tell anyone,” you pleaded, “But, yes, today is my birthday.”

Crewel’s footsteps echoed through the room, “Silence, puppies!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Vil hissed under his breath.

“I’m not big on birthdays. The attention is too much– plus, rarely anyone celebrates with me.”

“You honestly remind me of that one miserable Diasomnia first year from the class next door.”

The conversation was left at that.

[ A Few Hours Later, Courtyard ]

“Potato.”

“Vil?”

Where did he come from? How did he find you? Class had ended a few minutes ago. What’s more is that you only saw him every other day due to the Alchemy schedules. It was the only class you had with him. You never saw him outside of class, aside from rare encounters in the cafeteria. You ate in the library to avoid people so that was partly your fault too.

“Come with me.”

“Pardon?”

“I won’t take no for an answer. You are the birthday girl, after all.”

He struck his signature pose, one hand on his hip and the other pointed, barely touching his cheek. When did he develop this again?

Wait. What did he just say?

[ Pomefiore Dormitory, Vil’s Bedroom ]

“Here. This is an anxiety journal. Think of it as a diary to write your thoughts down in case you don’t have anyone to talk to”

“Vil, I can't take this,” you said, pushing the notebook away.

“I insist.”

“Still…”

“You said you didn’t celebrate. And that others didn’t celebrate either, no?”

“Yes…”

“If you don’t put yourself out there and let people know, then how are others going to celebrate? And then you go mope around and eat cookies all by yourself in the library with the ghosts?”

Was he watching you? You were sure that there was no one there when the ghosts sang you happy birthday.

“I never said I was moping. I don’t care if I’m all alone. I don’t mind at all. I’m perfectly okay with that. I don’t need to be acknowledged or receive any gifts of pity so please just leave it at that…. I appreciate the gesture though.”

He leered. You took a step back. Was he angry? Why? This doesn’t concernto him. Why was he getting angry?

“I care. So take it.”

You caved, taking the journal. It was similar to the Pomefiore dorm leader’s grimoire: leather bound, decorated in gold decals in floral patterns and peacock feathers. It was pretty. You were a fool. A sensitive and broken fool. You were crying over a notebook, a gift put together at the last minute with tender loving care by a classmate you barely knew. It had been a long time since you felt this happy, this acknowledged.

Vil grimaced, “Oh stop crying already. I told you that I was here for you.”

He embraced you. It was awkward, but wholesome. You never hugged him before. He was warm. Perhaps a little bony for it to be of any comfort, but that was most likely due to the position you two were him. His head pats were stiff. It was ill at ease, but endearing.

Vil was your friend. Though not the closest, you treasured his actions. You weren’t sure how he put up with you. Or why even, but all you were concerned in at this moment was that he cared. It would be lovely to not assume the worst in people for once.

[ Present Day, Vil’s Bedroom ]

What would Vil surprise with you this year? He hasn’t mentioned anything yet.

The makeover was nice, but you weren’t big on makeovers. Did you get to keep this dress? It was embellished with lace and frills– fancy. It was white, pink and floral like the Heartslabyul croquet court. You felt pretty albeit out of your own skin. Vil hummed a soft song whilst cleaning his makeup brushes.

Would that be all?  It was your first birthday as a couple. Were you ungrateful if you asked if there was anything else? His schedule was tight. What would he say if you mentioned that today was your birthday? What would he say if you asked if he had forgotten? Would you sound narcissistic? 

Would he say the same thing he said to you when you were second years?

[ One Year Ago, Someday– Your Birthday, Hallway ]

“Vil!”

You were so excited to see him again. You couldn’t stop yourself from running up to him.

“(y/n).”

“I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you? Congratulations. It’s a bit late though. How’s being Pomefiore’s new dorm leader treating you?”

He brushed his hair off his shoulders. Ah... a new hairstyle. He was wearing the barette you made for his birthday. You missed the French braid, but you felt that he was more relaxed when he let his hair down (literally).

“Rook. Guide the baby potatoes back to our dorm. Give us a moment,” Vil said to the person he was walking with.

Rook, you assumed. He was bizarre with his exaggerated features and hat. You were certain that the accessory violated campus dress codes. Needless to say, he was beautiful in his own way– just like any Pomefiore student.

“Oui, Roi du Poison. I shall leave you with ta chérie~” he breathed, prancing away with the first years.

“Ta what now?”

“Don’t mind him,” Vil said, “I am doing well, thank you, (y/n).”

No “potato” this time? Not even once? You hadn’t seen him since your second year started, only keeping up with his life through Magicam and story replies. Sometimes, he messaged you to check up on you or ask to compare answers for Alchemy and Potions. You packed snacks for him though that routine eventually ceased as Vil began taking better care of himself, opting only to run when he had the time.

You missed those days, but his well being was more important than your own selfish feelings. You had grown fond of that nickname since he used it so often. It was a term of endearment. It saddened you that he called others potatoes as well.

“Happy birthday by the way,” Vil said.

“Oh! You remember?”

“There you go again. I don’t have the memory of a goldfish– of course I remember. Though I don’t have a gift for you this time around.”

Did you offend him? Did you sound needy? You weren’t asking for any presents. Did it come off that way?

“I don’t need anything so it’s fine.”

Or rather, you didn't expect anything.

“Good grief. It’s your birthday. Chin up. Have the attention on yourself for one day. It’s your day after all. Anyhow,I would love to chit chat more, but my schedule is tight. I cannot dilly dal–”

You reached for his hand, “W-Would you like to hang out at a café sometime then?”

You cut him off. Was that too abrupt? Rude? Uncalled for? You should have let him leave even if you did miss being around him, being friends with him.

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to. I was just thinking that maybe we could spend some time together and catch up. We haven’t seen each other in person too much. I’m not comfortable with too much attention either so yours is more than enough.”

God, what were you saying? That was cringe-worthy. You prayed that he would decline your impulsive proposal.

“I don’t see why not. Very well then, (y/n). Text me the details so I can adjust my schedule accordingly.”

Wait. He agreed? Was he pitying you? No, no. Stop doubting him. Vil was your friend. He must’ve missed being around you too.

[ One Month Later, Cafe Rosé ]

When he said he was busy, he meant it. A month had passed since your birthday and just now were you able to meet up.

You sat in the café idly. He watched you consume your third plate of strawberry shortcake. You glanced at him then at your growing pile of dishes. He squinted. Should you stop?

“Don’t.”

Did he read your mind?

“No, I’m not a mind reader.”

“But you did it again.”

“Your expressions are easy to read. Do yourself a favor and don’t feel bad if you  enjoy something and I don’t. Someone who makes you feel bad for getting excited about something– something harmless, something you enjoy, is the worst kind of person. Enjoy your cake, birthday girl. Don’t let me, or anyone for that matter, stop you.”

Vil sipped his hand-pressed superfruit smoothie vehemently.

That was oddly inspiring despite having relevance to your self-esteem and cake. Funnily enough, you did feel better about yourself.

“Excuse me? May I get three more slices of this cake? And another teapot, please?” you called out to a server impulsively.

What on earth were you doing? Was that rude? Did she find you demanding?

“Anything else?”

“That’ll be all for now.”

You turned from the waitress, bringing your attention back to Vil. You cocked your head to the side: “What?”

“Consume cake in moderation, you potato.”

There it was. You’ve been waiting all semester to be called a potato. Pomefiore first years have expressed a strong dislike for the nickname. You, on the other hand, treasured it. Time and memories were built into that nickname.

“It’s fine. I’m paying anyway so don’t worry.”

“You are not paying on your birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday though.”

“We’re here for a belated celebration.”

“So an unbirthday?”

“No, no. Don’t bring the Queen of Hearts’s rules and gimmicks into this,” Vil waved his hand.

He set his smoothie down, The ice shifted, echoing throughout the café.

“I want to pay. I wanted to go here in the first place.”

“Think of this as my belated birthday present for you, atonement for not getting you anything or talking as much we’d like.”

“Vil, I don’t require anything from you. You’re busy. You don’t have to talk to me everyday. I think I would combust if you did. My social battery would drain.”

“That’s reassuring.”

The waitress cleared her throat. Vil nodded, sliding his glass to the further end of the table. She placed the cake slices in a neat triangle before setting the teapot down in the center. Then she followed up with the teacups–one for you, one for Vil. He raised an eyebrow at you. Your server gave a polite bow and dismissed herself.

“Eat one slice. Then I’ll let you pay,” you beamed, sliding him the plate.

He glared at the confection, “Alright.”

[ March, Pomefiore Dormitory Hallway ]

“Bonjour, bonjour! What brings you to our humble dorm?”

Rook was his name right?

“Hello, Rook. I was hoping–”

He scared the living daylight out of you. Where did he come from? Why was nobody else around? You spun your heel and scanned the hall. It was empty.

“Echanté, mademoiselle! Let me guess!”

You yelped, falling backwards. Where did he come from? He was behind you a moment ago. His eyes widened as he lunged for you, hooking his arm around your waist, catching you before you made contact with the ground.

“Careful, careful, little fawn,” he chuckled.

Fawn?

He set you straight then pointed at you. His gloved index finger barely touched the bridge of your nose. This man, Rook, was sending your nerves in a downward spiral. 

He smiled at you, resuming like nothing ever happened: “Let me guess– you’re looking for your darling Roi du Poison?”

“Darling… Roi du Poison? Who? Vil?”

“Oui.”

“No, he’s not.. we’re not. We’re just friends. I’m looking for him though bec–”

“Are you here for compensation?”

Rook set Anxiety loose. With a few words, he sent shivers down your spine. Compensation. Would your friendship end the moment you fulfilled his request? It had always been in the back of your mind. The thought of Vil using you to make him feel better about himself shatters you into a million pieces. The thought of owing Vil something for helping you, for being your friend, was heart-wrenching. Was it pity after all this time? Was it so wrong to want to hang out at yet another café? You looked forward to those every month– ever since your unbirthday date. Was your relationship that superficial?

No, it wasn’t a date. You wanted it to be, but it was not a date. You never quite shook off those romantic feelings you felt when you saw a different side to him. Beneath the surface of the poised, strict and sometimes narcissistic prefect, Vil was extremely hard working, passionate, and observant. He was the greatest friend you could ever ask for. You can’t say that he was your best friend, but he was close. If he didn’t feel the same, then that was okay with you. You weren’t even sure if it was love. You’ve had this debate with Anxiety before. It kept telling you that you were in love with the idea of him fixing you. That was not love.

You shook your head. Vil genuinely was your friend. If those feelings were not returned, then you would still be friends.  He told you time and time again that you should never feel sorry for the way you feel. If so, then would it be alright to tell him one day? And feel terrible about it later?

“He’s here, isn’t he?” you asked.

“Oui~”

“Rook, (y/n),” a voice from the end of the half coughed.

Pomefiore’s vice dorm leader crossed his arms and gave you a smug smile. Vil. He was decked out in a trench coat and a black turtleneck. Stylish as always, but his hoarse voice told a different story. You rushed to Vil’s side.

“Vil, are you alright?,” you tugged his sleeves, “Your eyes are so puffy. Have you been crying? You’re burning up too. You should rest. Go back to bed this instant. Our café rendezvous can wait.”

He staggered: “No. I want to go with you. I finally have the time.. to see you… I have to make it count...”

“No, Vil. You have a fever. You need to rest,” you said, sliding his arm over your shoulders, ready to haul him back to his quarters.

Rook hummed a bird’s song.

“Would you mind helping?”

The height difference between you and Vil was awkward. His legs are dragged across the floor in a languid manner. One could imagine how uncomfortable that was.

“Non non, little fawn! My hands are dirty. Roi du Poison wouldn’t allow me to taint his beauty with such bacteria. Désolé!”

“Can you at least get the door then?”

“Will do, milady,” he bowed before complying to your request.

He held the door for you as you dragged Vil to his bed. You gasped as Vil’s limbs tighten around your neck.

“Would you mind getting the sheets too? Pull them out so I can tuck him in?”

Rook hummed in response. You plopped Vil onto the mattress. Your companion’s eyes widened, hands thrown in the air.

“Mademoiselle! Careful! Roi du Poison is fragile like a flower’s first bloom.”

“He’ll be fine don’t worry. Now if you could–”

Where did he go? You blinked for one minute and the vice prefect was gone.  You shook your head in dismay, turning to Vil and tucked him in bed. He looked so peaceful. His eyes were so distraught and dull before. Did he overwork himself to the point of tears? His room was a mess– shreds of fabric and crumpled balls of paper were discarded on the floor. You could hear his breathing as you made way to his desk.

What’s this? A script? And a sewing machine? What was he making? His sketches were stunning. Was this a side project of his? Was he too busy with films to continue with it? But why were his eyes so puffy?

Whatever the case was, it wasn’t your place to pry. Your fingers trailed off over the sketchbook as you made your way to his bathroom. You didn’t know where he kept the medicine or what kind he used, but it was worth a try to look around.

You opened the cabinet and your face fell. At a glance, he didn’t have anything aside from comesetics. There were a few bottles of potions, but you couldn’t make out the labels. It was best not to guess and check. The least you could do was place a wet on his head to cool down the fever. You peered over the bathroom’s door frame.

He wouldn’t mind. He was breathing heavily. You’ll face the consequences later if it violated his beauty regime. Hurriedly, you grabbed a small towel off the shelf, rinsing it in cold water in the sink. You squeezed off the excess and rushed to Vil, cursing at intervals where the water dripped onto whatever expensive material the flooring was made of. Was it expensive? You couldn’t tell. You placed it on his head gingerly. 

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Holy… what did you just do? You were taking advantage of him when he was out cold. If he was awake what would he say? Why did you do that? Why did that make your heart flutter?

“F-Feel better, Vil. I’ll be going now. Tell me when you wake up,” you sighed, patting your cheeks down.

You were a fool for initiating such an intimate act while someone was sleeping. You were also talking to said someone as if they were listening. It was best to excuse yourself now. Though maybe a little note would be helpful for when he wakes up. Your sleeves dipped. Your eyes went to the source of motion: Vil.

“Fairest… can you stay?”

You were at a loss for words. Vil called you “Fairest”– as if your other nickname didn’t exist. His face was flushed from the heat and his eyes were red and teary. What to do? What to do? What to do?

Vil tugged at your sleeves and pulled you onto the bed. Your mind went blank. You were on top of him, preventing yourself from crushing him with your weight, hands pinned on each side of his head.

“V-Vil?”

He pulled you onto him, then turned to the side, causing you to face each other. The blankets were ruffled, wrapping you two into a contorted position. The towel slipped off his face. You scrambled out of bed. Vil lunged for you, pulling you back in.

“I said stay,” he pouted.

“I know, I was just getting out of bed to get back in. Wait that doesn’t make sense?”

“It does,” he said, lifting the sheets so you could climb in,

You yelped as he pulled you into his chest, “Vil? What are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you today.”

“I’m here.”

“I wanted to go on another date with you.”

Date? Does he think it was a date too? Every single one? Great Seven, have mercy…

“You should rest. We can hang out here if you want.”

Your hold on his waist tightened. You inhaled the faint scent of his cologne. Perhaps to him, this was a fever dream. Stil, all love takes patience– if what you both felt was love, that is.

“Thank you for staying , (y/n).”

“...Do you want to talk about it? Usually you’re the one listening to me, but I’m here for you too. ”

Vil buried his head into your shoulders, “Nothing much. Just overworked. Stress came to me in the form of sickness, unfortunately. How inconvenient.”

He clicked his tongue while you giggled. Even if bedridden, Vil’s mind was as proactive as ever.

“Were you crying?”

“...”

“You don’t have to answer.”

How do you comfort someone? You’ve always been the one comforted, especially from Vil. Were you gaining more from the relationship than Vil did? You wanted him to cheer up though...

“No, no. It’s fine. It’s better to get it off my chest while you’re still here.”

What did he mean by that? You weren’t leaving. Why would you? How could you?

“Do you think I’m more than my appearance?”

He was shaking. Vil was shaking. What could have possibly happened from the last time you saw him? Was he alright?

“Why do you want my opinion? We both know you’re more than a pretty face.”

“Answer the question.”

“Alright, alright. I do think you have a pretty face. You’re gorgeous, very handsome… but you’re also hardworking, diligent, strong-willed, driven, intelligent, observant and more words that I can’t think of to describe how I feel about you. Oh and a great alchemist and friend I might add. Vil, you’re pretty. You’re beautiful. Inside and out.”

Your heart hurt. Calling him your friend didn’t sit right with you. He threw his head back in a fit of laughter.

“Did I ramble too much?”

“No, not at all. I feel much better so thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better then. Whatever happened, I hope you know that it doesn’t define you. If you feel like it does, then remember that I’m your biggest fan.”

Ah, too cheesy. You’ve gotten too comfortable around Vil to think about Anxiety or your verbal filter. When you were with him, words flowed as freely as time.

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

He didn’t say anything much about it. Was that not weird for him? Did you offer the solace he was looking for? He merely pulled away from your embrace. You thanked the heavens that his eyes were closed. If he made eye contact with you while you two were still sharing the same bed, you might as well ascend to the afterlife.

“Why do you ask though?”

“Oh I just had a miserable case of self-doubt is all. My manager kept taking roles that type-casted me as beautiful as the main character. I know I’m worth more than my looks- I want to be more than my looks-  but so far the industry has told me otherwise… but thank you, (y/n).”

He stayed like that for a while, inhaling and exhaling softly. Was he sleeping? How much time had passed?

“Vil. I have a question for you. You don’t have to answer if you’re not up to it. I know you have a lot on your mind right...” you said, breaking the silence.

“Shoot.”

“Will I be able to see you again after I compensate for the time I’ve wasted?”

“You don’t waste time. You don’t have to compensate for anything. I’m glad you’re here with me. If anything, I wasted your time.”

“But you said that we could talk about compensation later. It’s been over a year, Vil,” you whimpered.

“What do you mean by compensation?” he asked firmly, opening his eyes.

You choked on your own words. This was a bad idea. It might even offend him. Would if offend him? You wanted to know.

“Our first presentation. My anxiety attack. The infirmary. You helped me. I asked why then you said there was a price and we could talk about it later. But that conversation never came up. Why is that? Why did you come to the infirmary that night? Why did you take me in? Why am I here? Why do you still talk to me?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from spewing all of the questions you had for these past months. You needed to know. You needed your heart to shatter.

He sighed, “Good grief, (y/n). You remember all of that still? It’s not as bad as you think.”

He was offended.

“Please don’t say that.”

He inhaled sharply. 

“My apologies, potato. I didn’t mean it like that. But to answer your question, I felt guilty especially since I was the one who forced you onto the podium and made you redo the presentation because I couldn’t manage my first major acting role and my academics at the same time. I am sorry that you had to suffer the consequences.”

Vil turned onto his back. He brought his forearm to cover his eyes. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? Did it hurt his pride? 

“I didn’t think of it like that. I’m sorry that I ruined our project because I couldn’t manage to improvise.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for that.”

“You shouldn’t either. Your feelings are just as valid as mine. Even if you don’t have anxiety, you still can feel anxious and overwhelmed.”

“Touché.”

“And the compensation?”

“You needn’t worry about that. My time is valuable indeed but you’re not a waste of my time at all. You’re worthwhile.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” you muttered.

“Hm?”

“What would have been the compensation?”

Vil turned to face you, rustling the sheets, “Are you that curious, Fairest?”

“F-Fairest?”

“Hm, yes it suits you now more than ever. Close your eyes for a moment. This should be quick.”

You obliged, closing your eyes. Vil wouldn’t do something terrible to you would he? He gripped your shoulders and pushed you flat on your back. You felt him shift his leg so he could straddle you. You instinctively cursed yourself in a ball.

“You can relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You loosened your muscles, trying hard not to burst into a fit of nervous laughter. You were scared.

“Fairest.”

“Yes?”

“How was your day?”

“Well, it was—mmmphhh!”

Vil had told you to keep your eyes closed, but how could you? Not when he was kissing you. You had waited for this moment. You fantasized about it, daydreaming, pining for him on the daily. You never saw it coming. Did he return your feelings? After all this time? You mewled as he bit your bottom lip. You were hot, feverish just like your beloved prefect. Was he alright? He was flushed, coughing as you pushed him away.

“My time has been compensated,” he smirked.

His expression quickly changed, “Hey! Why are you crying? Did I hurt you? That was too bold wasn’t it… Goodness (y/n)...”

You cupped his cheeks.

“Not at all. I’m just so happy that you feel the same.”

“Feel the same?”

You faltered. Was he toying with you? No, he wouldn’t…

“I-I like you a lot, you know. I don’t know of a time I didn’t. You’re so confident and I adore you for that. I love how you’re always there for me, how you always listen to me, and how you lean on me too. I love how you include me and see me no less than anyone else. I love you so much that my heart hurts,” you paused and moved your hands to clutch your chest, “But if it isn’t love then I suppose that’s fine too. I think I might be in love with the idea of you. It might be a little presumptuous here, spouting nonsense to you, but I don’t want to be just friends. Even if I am broken, I want to make you happy so please accept my feelings-!”

Cheesy. Too cheesy! You’re oversharing, (y/n). Stop. It. Death suddenly seemed like a viable option. You loved him so much that you must die. Yes, that was the only way.

Vil kissed you. This time, it was more of a peck.

“This whole time… you… I love you too, Fairest. I accept you and your feelings.  Thank you for being so patient with me,” he kissed the trail of tears running down your cheeks, “You already make me so happy. I love your innocence, your beauty—inside and out as you would say. I admire your strength to help others despite being in a world of your own. I love your selflessness and... your adorable reactions to situations that make you anxious. Please, tug at my sleeves some more.”

You pouted at the last bit. Vil was observant. You’ve come to learn that the hard way. The trait never withered.

He continued: “I will be in your care from now on.”

Ah. He was crying. Smiling too. What a sappy mess of emotions you two were, sobbing in each other’s arms over a mutual confession.

He flicked your forehead, “And don’t you dare call yourself broken. You are not below me and I am not above you. We’re in this together. I love you and you love me and you better love yourself too. You hear me, potato?”

“Yes, but–”

“Did I stutter?”

You pressed your forehead against his, “Will do, Vil.”

He lowered his weight onto you, nuzzling into your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck and combed through his champagne gold locks. You were sniffling. You were relieved that he loved you the way you loved him. You were relieved that you didn’t fall in love with potential. He loved you for you and you loved him the same. What if you weren’t good enough for? No, no, he said he felt the same. Stop overthinking, (y/n). 

You were drained after all this worrying. Being plagued by thoughts assuming the worst about him and the worst case scenarios concerning your confession consumed your mind. There was not a single day where your head was clear.

You were exhausted. So, so, so tired. Tired of thinking. Tired of Anxiety. Sleep seemed nice right now especially with Vil laying on top of you. The monster inside your head had gone dormant. All there was the thought of Vil being by your side, loving you and Anxiety all the same.

Your consciousness faded.

[ April, Someday– Vil’s Birthday, Pomefiore Dormitory Hallway ]

“Vil. Vil!!!”  you squealed, tackling your lover from behind.

He staggered on his toes, but recovered swiftly. He was tall. The stilettos made him taller. You were up to his shoulders, giggling, slipping under the long sleeves of the Pomefiore dorm uniform.

“Au revoir, Roi du Poison. Mademoiselle (y/n),” Rook chuckled and excused himself.

Vil gave Rook a look of disdain yet the vice prefect skipped along the halls, paying no mind to the daggers coming his way. Your beloved turned to you and smiled.

“Happy birthday~”

“You’re frisky today.”

“I’m excited.”

“I can see that. Thank you,” he pats your head.

“Are you busy?”

“I’m finishing up something. You’re welcome to wait in my room. Might I tell you that you look beautiful today? Red lipstick suits you.”

You followed him into his quarters, seating yourself on the bed, fiddling with the ends of your hair. He called you beautiful. You were giddy over something trivial. It was normal for one to call their significant other beautiful. In truth, he was the fairest, not you. You never minded. You loved watching him flourish in the spotlight.

You watched him undo his bun, letting his hair fall loose. The ends were curled, bouncing on his shoulders. He stepped into the bathroom to shed the dorm uniform off, opting for a black suit with faint floral patterns. Your eyes widened, coming to terms with the fact that he wore no dress shirt underneath the suit.

“You’re eighteen now, Vil,” you mused.

“What of it?”

“Oh nothing. I was just thinking.”

He hummed in response, “Is that so?”

“It feels like yesterday when we were both- what? Fifteen? Nevermind that. It’s silly. Would you like to see your gift now?”

“How does after the party sound?” he asked, lining his eyes with a thick eyeliner.

A thin smirk creeped up on his lips.

The look was similar to the standard ceremonial robes makeup. His silver chain-like earrings, leather choker and red heels threw off the professional look. Vil was striking. From what he told you, his producers had invited him to a party celebrating the release of a film he starred in. It was conveniently on his birthday. He spent the last few weeks convincing you to go with him. 

You gave in, but the thought of attending a social gathering with people you had never met before worried you. Vil reassured you that he would remain by your side at all times. You agreed on the spot, putting on a brave face for his sake. He promised to spend time with you afterwards. Just you and him. He even agreed to eat cake.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Thank you. I know you’re excited, but I want to save all the birthday related things for after.”

He set his makeup down and handed you a container of gel, climbing onto the bed while you got on your knees. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You never let me do your hair.”

“Think of it as a reward for coming along with me.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that,” you said, letting go of your embrace and popping off the container’s lid.

“I’m thankful, but don’t push yourself for me.”

“I won’t, don’t worry. Besides, I want to. You’re going to be busy after today. I want to spend as much time as possible with you today.”

He smiled and helped you push his hair back. Dipping your fingers into the cool aquamarine substance, you combed through your lover’s hair, bringing his bangs back. When you finished, he turned around to kiss you. He caught you off guard, but you leaned into the kiss instantly. It wasn’t passionate nor was it chaste. It was somewhere in between as to not smear your lipstick. You reached for his hair to deepen it, but he grabbed your wrists. Right. You had forgotten. 

“Later,” he whispered.

Your cheeks were dusted with a rosy tint. Later? As quickly as he pulled away from you, Vil slid off the bed. He passed by his mirror, patting down his suit and hair. Then, he extended his hand to you, “Shall we go?”

[ Land of Pyroxene, Venue’s Rose Gardens ]

Vil said it was a small social gathering. A small party. The amount of people was fair to his description, but the setting was overwhelming. It was sophisticated. There were fae servers and ice sculptures. You were surprised to learn that the soirée was held in his homeland. You were expecting a carriage yet he simply led you to the mirror chamber where the headmaster bid him farewell.

And here you are. You were in a rose garden differed from Heartslabyul’s greatly as the roses were as white as snow. They grew on pickets and hung over your heads like grape vines. It was scenic, ethereal, like something out of a fairytale. There was also a castle in the distance, adding to the regality of the venue. 

“Vil! Oh thank goodness you’re here. I almost thought you were going to leave me to fend against all of these actors wanting to know more about you,” a stout woman said, scrambling towards him, “Oh? Is this your– ohhhhh–”

“Adella, this is (y/n). Fairest, this is Adella, my manager.”

Vil paused, cueing you for an introduction. He glanced at you.

“Chin up, dear,” he wrapped an arm around your waist, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Breathe. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Adella was Vil’s manager. Like he said, she’s nothing to be afraid of.

“P-Pleasure to meet you,” you extended your hand out.

She took it with a death grip. Sheer willpower prevented you from wincing. 

“No, no, the pleasure is mine. Vil has told me so much about you. And my, he calls you ‘Fairest’ how adorable~”

“What has he told you?”

You heard his breath hitch. Vil’s arm slithered back to his side. Was that too much? You were curious, but what if that made him uncomfortable? You should apologize later. 

“Nothing much. I didn’t even know what you looked like even! His pet name for you suits you so well. Oh! I do know that he frequently asks about his schedule because he said that he wants to spend time with the s–”

“That’s enough now, Adella,” Vil said, crossing his arms and putting his weight on one foot.

Shoot. He was displeased. 

“Yes, yes, sorry. Shall we go greet your colleagues? You are free to mingle afterwards. I know that there was this one actor who was practically begging me to see you. You weren't here yet though so what could I do? Fufufu~”

“Are you coming, (y/n)?” Vil asked, turning his head to see you trailing behind.

You halted and pointed to the dessert table, “You can go on ahead.”

He nodded and followed his manager to the east side of the garden. You made your way to your own destination. While you wanted to go with Vil, meeting Adella set your nerves ablaze and drained all the social energy you had. Plus, you felt out of place when you stood next to Vil.

Compared to him, you could never pull off silver earrings. A pair of red heels simply looked better on him than they ever would on you. Then there was Adella who was also gorgeous with her messy bun and nude lipstick. She wasn’t a public figure yet you felt small around her presence. She exuded a lovable aura that drew people around her.  If you had to meet more people who were meant for the spotlight, celebrities no less, you could never manage through the night. If you avoided strangers, you should be fine. There were cake pops amongst other treats at the table. You were going to have a ball of a time.

You plucked the confection off its stand, examining it thoroughly. It was as luxurious as the party’s decor. The dessert resembled the poison apple the Beautiful Queen from the stories you were told as a child. Gold foil acted as the poison while a red coating of candy melts acted as the skin of the apple. You bit the top off. It was a vanilla sponge cake. Odd for an extravagant event like this as you assumed the flavors would be bolder. Maybe it was the kind expensive vanilla. Were they all the same flavor? You plucked another one from the stand, biting into it. Oh this one was red velvet with a cream cheese filling. Were there other flavors?

“My, my, you sure like the cake pops, don’t you?” a voice cooed.

You turned your head to meet the owner of that sweet voice. He had hair as black as ebony and skin as white as snow. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown. He wore a yellow jumpsuit with a red ribbon which was complemented by a black beret. He strained a smile at you.

“You needn’t look at me like a deer in headlights. It’s okay I like cake pops too,” he laughed.

“Who are you?”

“Eh? You don’t know who I am?”

You shook your head. He blinked twice. 

“I’m Neige LeBlanche, lead actor of the film. But, say, since you don’t know who I am, I’m assuming you’re someone’s plus one? You seem kind of young though...”

He took a cake pop from the stand, peeling off the gold foil.

“I’m Vil’s plus one.”

“Vil? I would have never guessed. I thought he said he wasn’t bringing someone. He didn’t seem like he wanted to either...” he mumbled something and paused, “As expected of my senior! Say, what are you to him?”

You pulled the ends of your hair, “I-I’m his girlfriend.”

“Is that so? He never mentioned having a girlfriend. I always thought he was going to end up–”

“We started dating a few weeks ago.”

“Oh my, that’s–”

“I have to go so if you’ll excuse me, Neige. It’s been nice meeting you. Congrats on the film,” you waved.

“No, no, the pleasure is mine, (y/n). I’m glad I got to meet Vil’s girlfriend. You were so sweet! I hope we can talk some more in the future! Oh I know–You should follow me on MagiCam! We can talk there,” he exclaimed, clasping his hands around yours.

He was so bubbly… You didn’t know how to handle him. Was this interaction not awkward to him at all? Your cheeks flushed as you excused yourself. You held your head down low and avoided eye contact with everyone you crossed paths with. Where you were headed to was a mystery, even to you. Anywhere was fine. Anywhere secluded. Anywhere without people, but close enough to trace your footsteps back to the rose gardens should anything arise.

Of course, that was the ideal scenario. In your situation, nothing was ideal per se. You were lost. You had trudged forward whilst looking at the ground, not getting a good look of your surroundings at all. It was hard to tell where you were. If you had known better, you would say that you were in a children’s book. The rose bushes towered high above your head and the castle was closer than it was before. In the center of it all was a gazebo adorned with intricate floral details. There was also a well to the side of the structure. You made your way to the gazebo and sat down on the bench, gazing upon the beauty of the raven sky. It glittered like a thousand fireflies.

You sighed, “The moon is beautiful tonight.”

[ Some Ungodly Hour, Venue’s Rose Garden ]

“Nghh…”

“You’re awake now?”

Vil? What was he doing here? The moon was high in the sky. It was late. You were resting your head on his lap. You sat upright in an abrupt motion.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Ruining the party by running off and falling asleep, wasting your time when you could have been talking to someone more important–”

Vil put a finger to your lips: “I was getting exhausted of people commenting on my looks anyway. You did worry me by running off though. To think that I had to ask Neige of all people too.”

That last part about Neige. Did he not like his co-star? He ran his hand through his hair while you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. You opted to lean your head on his shoulder. Vil reciprocated by placing his head on top of yours, nuzzling it.

“The party is still ongoing so don’t worry,” he said, “Though you could have told me where you were.”

You exhaled. Thank goodness. It would have been embarrassing if it ended.

“Sorry about that.”

“Was it that exhausting for you? I told you not to push yourself for my sake. It makes neither of us happy.”

“At first, no, I wasn’t. I was a bit nervous around your manager but then Neige threw me off for a bit–”

“Neige? What did he say to you?”

“Nothing. He just asked what I was to you and I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“We’re leaving.”

“What? Why?”

Your stomach growled. You looked down at the ground. Suddenly the grass below your feet was the most interesting thing in the world. He took your hand firmly. His grip was different. He held you as if he was about to lose you.

“I had talked to everyone I needed to talk to. I’m done for the day and so are you. I would like to celebrate my birthday now with my dearly beloved if she would please.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a demand. There was no room for apologies.

You rose from the bench, grimacing at the soreness and took his hand, following him to the mirror.

[ Midnight, Vil’s Bedroom ]

Was he mad? He said he wasn’t. But then why was he handling you so roughly? Vil pulled you into the bathroom. He turned the faucet on, drawing water into the bathtub. He grabbed a bottle of bubble bath product and rose petals. He emptied the contents and discarded the containers onto the cool tiles. They rattled and echoed. Vil turned to his cabinets, searching for something. Strands of his loosely gelled hair swayed back and forth as he sifted through his cosmetics. He muttered gibberish as he found makeup wipes. Pulling you towards him, he began to wipe the gunk off your face. His motions were rigid, frantic, like he was wiping at a stubborn speck on a mirror. He turned you around and undid your dress’s zipper. The process was akin to a kitten’s first yawn. Slow, drawling yet somehow winsome. The act was intimate. Vil manhandling you was a first. It spawned many mixed motions. The positives outweigh the negatives, but was he alright? His eyes were ready to cry. They were glossy to the rim. When the zipper reached the end of its path, he pushed you aside and tended to his own face with a new wipe.

“Strip and get into the tub,” he instructed.

Strip? That was off-putting, especially from him. He didn’t want to have birthday sex did he? Or would he leave when he was done with his makeup? It had to be the latter. You held your sides, preventing the dress from slipping down your shoulders. But what if he did? What if he wanted to let out his frustrations on you? Was that it? He said he was more worried than upset, but his actions betrayed his words. He was tense. He could burst at any moment. Vil, as he was now, was a time bomb, ticking away. You feared he might break.

Vil snapped his fingers before you. You flinched. As you regain focus into the real world, you come to the sight of your lover in the tub, hair wet and his body leaning against the edge. His clothes were hanging on the laundry hamper. You looked away, excusing yourself under your breath. A tug on the hem of your dress stopped you in your tracks. He had broken. His eyes were red and puffy though no tears trailed down his fair complexion. You knelt down beside the tub, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Vil…”

“Could you stay?”

“In the tub?”

“Only if you want to.”

Why is it that he could always see through you? Was your discomfort obvious? No, no, he was merely attentive. Then again, you were equally observant to everyone, especially towards Vil. Your darling was an open book, an easy read– the merit being that his words rarely matched his actions. He was a novel full of metaphors, eloquent tones and arbitrary words. Underneath the complications, he was as simple as the next composition. He was as insecure as any other person, if not more. To read Vil Schoenheit, you mustn't analyze his speech. Words fail in this case. You had to look for the little things: his weight shifting on one leg, his shoulders tensing, his eyebrows furrowing for a brief moment, his shortness of breath, his eyes.

In this very moment in time, Vil needed you. He said there was no obligation, but the small frown on his lips told you otherwise. He was aware of your own boundaries, but at times like these, when he needed you most, your instinct to reach for him, to hold him, triumphed over your murky thoughts. There was mutual trust between you and Vil, two profoundly regardful people. One was observant because he had a keen eye for details and all things beautiful. The other was observant because she was wary of the opinions of others.

Vil turned away from you as you let your dress and undergarments fall to the ground. His eyes were closed when you climbed into the tub.

“You never have to push yourself for my sake, Fairest,” Vil said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your back closer to his chest.

“I don’t mind if it’s for you. I will tell you when I can’t do something, I promise.”

“You better,” he sighed.

You turned around and cupped his cheeks, “What about you? Are you alright? You’ve been so stiff ever since we left.”

You scooped some soap suds onto his hair, lathering and combing though his silky locks while you waited for him to formulate the right words.

“Fairest, do you think I am more than my appearance?”

You stopped mid-caress and nodded. His looks were always a touchy subject. Vil had a severe case of type-casting, a situation where he was only casted for roles with “beautiful” as the main attribute of the character. At first, he was content with them, but as time went on, he felt defined by his appearance. His hard work was futile in an industry that valued beauty over effort. Comments such as “you only got to where you are now because of your face” was a stab in the heart for Vil. He often sought out you or Rook for comfort. It came to the point where Vil frequently declined callbacks.

He continued, “No matter how much I talked to others about my role in the film or attempted to make more connections to those in the industry, they would always comment on my ensemble first. Sometimes they comment on how I look and nothing more.”

“So you feel invalidated for your efforts?”

“Yes, I feel like none of the work I put into getting where I am now. I feel like all I had to do was look pretty and everything will be handed to me… just like Neige. I want to be as pretty as him. I want to be as popular as him. I want to be recognized for my skills and get casted for the best roles. Not superficial ones. I want… I want....”

You embraced him as he choked on his own words.

“This is hypocritical since it’s coming from me, but you should never compare yourself or your efforts or progress to anyone else. You are enough as you are, at your own pace.”

His arms engulfed you. He kissed you, intertwining his tongue with yours.

“I’m sorry,” Vil said, pulling away. 

“I’m sorry too.”

“What did I tell you about saying sorry for something that’s out of your control?”

“But you’re apologizing too,” you laughed.

He snorted.

“But I do feel guilty for leaving you alone though. Maybe I could have said something for your sake. I feel even worse since it was your birthday.”

“We’re both pathetic in that regard.”

You scooped water onto Vil’s head. He did the same for you. You looked him into the eyes before averting your gaze. They were as intense as ever.

“I accept your apology though. In turn, you should accept mine.”

“I can’t. Sorry, Vil. You told me that I should never apologize for how I feel. Neither should you.”

“But I don’t have anxi–”

“You don’t have to have anxiety or anything to have a bad mental health day. You don’t have to have anxiety or anything to feel insecure or worthless. Those feelings are valid for anyone”

“You do have a point there,” Vil said as he tousled his hair.

“I have something for you. It may not be your birthday anymore,” you glanced at the clock, “but we haven’t slept yet so in my mind the day isn’t over yet.”

“What kind of logic is that?”

“Does it still feel like a ninth of April to you?”

“Yes, but technically it’s not.”

“Think of it as a feeling then,” you said and climbed out of the tub.

Vil assisted you in the process and got towels for you both. He languidly dried your hair.  His touch was soft like a ghost’s embosom. You could barely feel his touch. Then, he waltzed over to his dresser and gave you one of his silk pajama tops. While he was getting dressed, you grabbed your gift for him, sitting on the edge of the mattress waiting for him.

Shortly after, he plopped down on the bed. The pillows bounced on impact. You held the gift bag over his chest. He looked up at you then at the bag. Sitting up, he opened it.

“Well?”

Your lover tore through the tissue paper, revealing a small box wrapped in brown wrapping paper, red ribbon and twine. His eyes sparkled like a child on Christmas Day.

He read the present tag aloud: “‘To my darling: Vil Schoenheit. Happy birthday.’”

He undid the bow, careful not to ruin the label. He found the edges of the wrapping paper and picked off the tape piece by piece and discarded it on the ground. It fell with grace. Vil lifted the lid of the box.

“A book?”

“Open it.”

Granted, you were more nervous than he was. Would he like it? Today was not his day. You hoped to make him feel better. If he didn’t like it in the slightest, you wouldn’t know how to feel. You wanted to see him smile. It was his birthday. He did not deserve to feel insecure because of soirée guests. He did not deserve to feel so small when he was your world. In fact, he deserved the world for all that he was. He worked too hard not to. His efforts deserved to be paid off. Perhaps not every day, but for his birthday, he should have. It was his day.

Vil obliged, turning to the title page.

“Eighteen things I love about you,” he read.

You leaned over his shoulder.

“Did you honestly write an essay about your love for me?”

“No,” you said, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “Just look.”

“I jest, Fairest.”

Vil licked his finger and turned the page.

“Ah. A scrapbook? Let’s see… ‘Number one: I love how—”

You put a hand over his mouth, “It’s embarrassing if you read it out loud.”

“I think it’s endearing. Besides, I live for your flushed face.”

You whined and he let out a laugh.

“I’ll spare you. I’ll only read the first one aloud.”

“That’s fair,” you mumbled.

“I hope it is. Anyhow… ‘Number one: I love how you carry yourself with utmost respect. I love how you know your worth. I love how angry you are when you are undermined– because you know you are worth more than what the current situation offers. Your confidence is contagious as it inspires me to acknowledge my own worth, to be bolder and seek opportunities that are on par to my own capabilities.’”

He paused.

“What?” you asked.

“I like how you included a photo of us as freshman potatoes,” he said, running his fingers over the image as if he was wiping away dust.

“You always were always like a star to me, ever since we first met. It was hard to start off this scrapbook without referencing that.”

You twirled the ends of your hair.

“I’m glad that you see me in such a way.”

His voice was so soft, inaudible even.

“Vil?”

No response. He flipped the book to page two. Then to page three and so forth. He was still. His chest did not rise and fall each breath. He didn’t even blink. He stopped at the last page. It read: “I love you. You as a whole– the person you present to the crowd and the person you present to a select few. I love you for every flaw and insecurity. I love and accept you in the same way you love and accept me and more. I promise to love you forevermore– no shunning, no judging, just staying by your side and watching you grow into a person I fall in love with more and more every day.”

He pushed you down onto the bed and kissed you, dropping the book onto the ground.

“V-Vil…”

A sense of déjà vu washed over you.

He was vulnerable. He knew, you knew. His lips were quivering and his eyes were glossy. But did he like it? You tried so hard not to say that you liked him because of his looks. That was a touchy subject for him. Did that last one come off as too cheesy? You were told you were quite sappy on top of having an ability with words but still…

“What are you doing writing a bunch of wedding vows, you sweet potato?” Vil muttered as he cuddled you.

“I didn’t mean for it to come off like that. We’re barely a month into this relationship so that’s out of the question. I’m pretty sure we’re still in our honeymoon phase too. But that’s how I feel right now. So… What if I wrote a bunch of wedding vows to you? What of it?”

You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. Hopefully, he didn’t find your sudden confession cringe-worthy.

“I never said it was bad... I feel the same.”

He let the last part of his sentence trail off into silence.

“Do you feel better now?”

Was that out of place? Did that kill the mood? What if you soured his mood?

“Much better, thank you. I appreciate it and… I love you too. I know I don’t say it a lot, but I think you know that already.”

“I do.”

He peppered your face with kisses. Some were on your lips, Others were on your cheeks and forehead and occasionally trailed down your jawline.

“I also have something else for you,” you spoke up, pushing him off of you so you could grab another bag that you left by the foot of his bed.

“You spoil me, Fairest.”

“It’s not much. Just a cake I made for you.”

“A whole cake?”

“A cupcake, I mean. I know you’re not one for sweets.”

“And you left it in my room with no refrigeration.”

You pointed to the ice pack. He nodded. You pulled out a cake box, propping it open on Vil’s hands and told him to hold still. You placed a candle in the center and lit with a little spark of fire magic.

“Make a wish~”

“What am I? Twelve?”

“You have to make a wish.”

“Fine,” he said as he blew out the taper, “I wish to be with you for as long as possible.”

“You can’t say your wish out loud. It won’t come true!”

“Do you have any intention of separating from me?”

“N-No.”

“I don’t see why my wish won’t come true then,” Vil said as he cut the cupcake in half, handing you a piece.

“I guess you’re right about that.”

“Careful. If you get crumbs on my bed, you’re sleeping in the spare room.”

“...Understood.”

[ Present Day, Pomefiore Hallway ]

One moment he was dolling you up, the next he was wrapping a blindfold around your eyes and led you down the hallway to god knows where. You were still walking straight so you only assumed that you were still in the Pomefiore dormitories. Unless you walked through a mirror. Or maybe you simply had a terrible sense of direction. Whatever the case was, it did not change the fact that you were trembling.

“Vil. Where are you taking me?”

He exhaled. You could hear his chest heave.

“Darling, are you scared?”

Like how you could read him like an open book, he knew you like the back of his hand. You nodded and you felt him undo the blindfold. He held the ribbon in his hand and yours in the other. You looked into his eyes for comfort. He was wearing a single French braid. It was nostalgic. It was like you were first years again. He wasn’t wearing a school uniform, but it was enough to stir up fond memories. Instead, Vil wore a casual ensemble with a kimono-esque silhouette. He wore a white dress shirt with a pair of shapeless, high-waisted black dress pants. A cardigan with an ornate pattern accentuated the look, He wasn’t wearing the barrette you made him for his sixteenth birthday either, but you felt nostalgic regardless.

“I still need you to close your eyes for me though,” he said, putting the hand with the ribbon over your eyes, “I know you’re scared, but please hold on for a little longer.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. You felt his hand leaving your face, but the other was holding yours tightly, guiding you to your destination.

“Fairest, are your eyes actually closed?” Vil asked, breaking the silence.

“Y-Yes.”

You had been walking for a few minutes now. Where was he taking you?

“Vil, do you know what today is?”

No response.

“Vil… You’re scaring me.”

“We’re almost there, don't worry.”

Would it hurt to trust him for a little bit? You trailed behind him aimlessly. Your steps lagged behind his.

“You ready?” he asked, cupping his lanky fingers over your eyes.

You nodded. Whatever could it be? Lacking sight made Anxiety rattle against your skull. Was Vil going to push you off a cliff? Send you to your doom? No, no, no. He wouldn’t. That was too extreme, (y/n). Calm down.

He lifted his fingers off of your eyes, whispering a faint “happy birthday” to you. You gasped. Pomefiore lounge decorated with streamers and balloons– color coordinated to match both the dorm’s interior as well as your favorite colors. Rose petals were sprinkled on the ground. You heard Vil step away from you. You jumped as you heard something pop and turned around to find the source. Before you could react, a swarm of confetti went your way followed by a loud “surprise!”

You blinked twice, pulling bits of paper out of your hair..  You stepped forward and spun your heel. Were you dreaming?

“Hey, are you crying? I forbid you from crying. Your mascara is going to smear. Stop touching your face,” Vil scolded, running to your side, whipping out a handkerchief to pat your tears dry.

He had no confetti on his person. He was pristine.

“Vil… it’s wonderful. Thank you. I’m so glad you didn’t forget.”

“How could I forget? You must give me more credit, Fairest. I may not have the time to be with you every day, but I’m not cruel as to forgot your birthday,” he huffed, pulling you into a hug.

He was right. He could have never forgotten. Was he mad that you doubted him? He didn’t seem irritated. It wasn’t like him to forget such an important date. You’ll give him credit for being a good actor; he fooled you well. He ignored you for almost two weeks. Whenever you brought up your birthday, he brushed over it and changed the subject. You were on edge the entire time. A weight was lifted off your chest.

“I know you’re not one for parties, but I figured I’d go all out for a small group of people you are comfortable with. You’re seventeen now. Rejoice, my dear.”

You pecked his lips, “This is fine. Thank you so much.”

Snap!

“Cute~ Hashtag: Vil-Did-Not-Forget. Hashtag: (y/n)’s-Growth Record. Hashtag: (y/n)-And-Vil-Forever. Hashtag: Birthday. And posted! Happy birthday, (y/n)-chan~”

“Ah. Thank you, Cay-kun.”

“Did you have to do that?” your lover asked, hands on his hip.

“It’s fine, Vil.”

He nodded. You hoped he wouldn’t bicker too much with Leona as the upperclassman was lounging a bit too close to the throne for [Vil’s] comfort. You sighed as he went to the refreshments table.

“You’ve grown for much,” Cater said with crocodile tears, hugging you.

“I’m still the same height.”

“I didn’t mean that, silly.”

“What did you mean then?”

“Nothing, much. You just look happier. Anyways, here’s your present. Continue to blossom, m’kay?”

You took the gift: “Alright?”

“Cater. Mind your manners. You’re being rude. According to the–,” a voice called.

“I don’t think I am, right, (y/n)? Tell Riddle for me~” he pouted.

His eyes widened as the complexion of Heartslabyul’s prefect grew as red as his hair. 

“Hey now. Let’s not fight,” Trey, the vice prefect, hurried over to pat Riddle’s back.

You sighed, “There’s nothing to worry about, Riddle.”

You could have sworn you saw a vein deflate on his forehead as he mumbled something about the rules. He handed you a bouquet of roses.

“Happy birthday, (y/n).”

“Let’s take a Heartslabyul selfie to celebrate! Say cheese!”

No one said cheese. The flash flickered before your eyes as you held the flowers close to your nose. Riddle’s eyebrows were scrunched together. He was socially awkward in that aspect.

“Hashtag: Heartsla…”

Cater’s words faded. Since when have you been comfortable taking pictures with him. It was nice. You felt pretty today. Was it because Vil dolled you up to a T? You hugged the bouquet closer to your chest as you walked towards the refreshments table.

“Oi. Herbivore. Watch the tail,” an all too familiar voice groaned.

“Good afternoon to you too, Leona.”

“Here’s your present.”

He handed you a small box and he waved you goodbye. Was he not going to stay? You watched his back get smaller and smaller as he walked out of the Pomefiore Lounge. He wasn’t big on parties either. That was alright.

You continued the refreshments, stopping occasionally and accumulating presents here and there, engaging in idle chatter. Soon, your arms were full of trinkets and parcels. You panted as you set the gifts onto a spare table.

“You’re quite the attraction,” Vil said, sipping on a glass of apple cider.

“I don’t really think I’m–”

“Own it for a day, will you? You look absolutely divine.”

“Thank you, Vil.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “My pleasure, Fairest.”

[aonesteddybear]

Fixation

Nishinoya had always had a fixation on your chest. From even before you two had started dating he’d sneak peeks at them anytime he could, and once you were dating, he couldn’t keep his hands off them.

nishinoya yuu x  female reader* x hinata shoyo tanaka is..also there in the background

warnings: e for explicit, 18+, exhibitionism, voyeurism, lots of breast play, very slight dub-con?  (noya pushing readers limit a little. he doesn’t really listen to initial no but reader is consenting. i don’t consider it dubcon, but better safe then sorry!) 

word count: 2533

notes: noya is a tits man and i live by that. also let me know if you want a part two?

extra big thank to my beta @thisisthehardestthing​ <3 (also i apologize for the gif but it is..perfect l m a o)

*no gendered terms are used however breast/tits/chest/etc. wording is used. so a male reader who is comfortable with that wording could be able to self insert also! 

Nishinoya had always had a fixation on your chest. From even before you two had started dating he’d sneak peeks at them anytime he could, and once you were dating, he couldn’t keep his hands off them. He would always hug you a little too long, insist on resting his head on your chest with an excuse that it was to hear your heartbeat, or try and be the big spoon where he could drape his arms over them.

The first time you two had sex, he had immeditaly fixated on your chest, sucking and nipping at your nipples until they were sore and you had to push him away. You had continued on that night, but any chance he got he was either touching them or had his face pressed into them. 

After, it only got worse. No longer was he happy with clothing covering you, and any chance he could get, his hands were sliding under your shirt, groping at your breasts or pushing your shirt up where he could suck on them.

It became a pastime for him; any chance he got he was sucking at your nipples. Tongue running over it as you relaxed on the couch, or pressed against them as you two slept. He was obsessed, and although you didn’t mind his attention, there were times when you wished he would just calm down with his risky behaviors.

He didn’t seem to care if others could catch you, and his confidence only increased with time. He had started with just gentle touches, wrapping you in hugs from behind where his hands gently cupped your breasts, to sliding them up your shirt even in public. 

You had gotten used to telling him to ‘knock it off’, to leave it for when you two were at home where he was quite happy with you walking around without a bra for easy access. However, this silent agreement of “if you were home, it was fair game” often became a problem when you had others around and Noya still insisted on the same amount of contact. 

Occasionally you could persuade the man with just soft touches, or allow him to steal you off into a room where he could suck at your chest in comfort for a moment before returning together as if nothing occurred. 

Yet as time went on, he started becoming more bold. Especially when it came to his friends being present. Which is exactly how you ended up in your current situation; you two were cuddled up on the couch, your back to the corner as his head leaned on your chest while you watched a movie.

Across from you, Tanaka and Hinata sat on the other loveseat. Their eyes were glued to the screen as images flashed across, but you couldn’t focus on anything other than persistent nuzzling from Noya into your chest.

“Knock it off.”

Your voice was low, refusing to turn to look at him as you forced yourself to continue staring at the movie, even as he pressed his face firmly into your breast. 

“Why?” he whined back, matching your volume and you knew if you looked down you’d see wide brown eyes staring up at you as he shifted to look up at you.

“They’re right there,” you responded back, and he let out an irritated huff. His face turned back into you, his mouth ghosting over your shirt.

You could feel his lips moving carefully over your nipple, hot even through the thin layer of your tank top. Bras had long since been banned in the house at his request, and now, you had started to regret agreeing to it when you felt his hands slide up your side and push at your shirt.

Your hands flew to grab his, glaring at him as he pouted out his lower lip in annoyance at being stopped. “No,” you repeated and he nipped at your breast then in objection causing you to shove at his head. 

“Why not?” he repeated and you frowned in frustration, eyes flicking to where the others observed the movie, still unaware of what was happening a few feet from them. “They won’t care.”

His words were muffled in your skin as he stared up at you with pleading eyes, his hands shaking yours off as he once again attempted to pull your shirt down where he could have access to it unrestricted.

“Yuu,” you hissed out in frustration, grabbing at his hands even as they pulled at the side of your tank again. 

“They won’t care.” He repeated, “they all stare at your tits anyway.” He stated voice low, his voice further muffled in your chest as nuzzled into your body. “They’ll be jealous.”

His hands rubbed at yours, moving to again pull at your shirt and you, again, considered pushing him off. 

You thought about making some excuse to why you wanted to move so dramatically, or even go to the other room (and why Noya would without a doubt follow you) but as his tongue flicked at your nipple yet again, you realized you’d also have to possibly explain the wet spot he was attempting to leave on your shirt also.

Which is why you let out your let out a still annoyed huff as you shifted slightly, turning to try and focus on the movie even as your boyfriend accepted your resignation at his actions and finally pushed your tank top to the side, revealing your breast to him.

If his touching and licking hadn’t already made your skin pebble up, the cool air rushing over it certainly did. Especially as Noya pressed his face into your warm skin, then wrapped his lips around it.

He was gentle as usual. His eyes focusing back onto the movie as he sucked lazily at your skin.

His tongue ran over your nipple occasionally, teeth nipping from time to time but over all, he just lighty sucked on it. Just enough to keep your skin taut and your body on edge in excitement at the treatment to it. 

Despite Noya’s relaxed demeanor, you couldn’t relax, body tense with the knowledge that at any moment, his friends could look over and see clearly that your shirt was pushed to the middle of your chest with Noya’s lips on your breast. 

You knew the three of them were all pretty close friends, but the idea of them catching you two still filled you with dread, unsure of how they’d respond to the fact that Noya was blatantly sucking on your nipples in such close proximity to them. 

Especially with the fact he wasn’t even trying to hide his suckling from view with his head turned slightly to the side so he could still watch the movie.

His other hand slid up your stomach. Rubbing at your skin lightly as he felt your muscles tense while he groped at your other breast over your shirt. He was content with this for a moment before his hand dipped in your shirt.

He palmed at the skin, kneading at it in appreciation for a moment before he pushed the shirt aside so both of them were in view. 

Noya continued the lax playing with your tits, his mouth occupied with the one closest to his face as he pinched and tugged with his hand on your other. As he squeezed particularly tight, you winced, shifting as you pushed at him in objection.

You could feel the smile on his face as he repeated his action, unashamed as you rolled your eyes in annoyance. Your eyes flicked back to the screen at the same time a sharp gasp of “Oh!” sliced through the room. 

You felt as if a glass of ice water had been dumped over you, embarrassment turning your body too warm as you looked back at Hinata who seemed just as startled as you were by the sight in front of him.

As you started to move to readjust your clothes, Noya���s hand spread out firmly across your chest, holding you in place as he continued his actions. His teeth dug into your skin in silent warning as you let out a squeak of objection.

Your eyes flicked to Tanaka then, who looked rather curiously at you two before you glanced back at Hinata who seemed just as red as his hair as he made eye contact with you. His eyes dipped down to your chest which was still partially on display.

“Noya-san, what are you doing?” Hinata’s voice was strained, but you could hear something extra brimming in it even if you couldn’t identify what exactly it was. 

“Nothin’,” his response was muffled, his lips still pressed to your chest as he held you.

“Oh.”

Silence filled the room as Hinata and Tanaka both stared transfixed at your chest as Noya continued his lazy movements, as if he was just resting on you rather than actively lapping at your nipple under their eyes.

Your cheeks were burning, embarrassment filling you even as Noya rubbed at your skin soothingly, reassuring you that he was right and the two of them truly didn’t care.  

Hinata seemed utterly fascinated by Noya’s actions, leaning forward in his seat while Tanaka’s face remained blank while he watched, not giving any hint to his thoughts.

“Noya-san,” Hinata began again, voice trembling, and this time you recognized what he was hiding in his voice: excitement. “Can I try?” 

He seemed almost shy at his request, and you couldn’t help the soft squeak in surprise and objection at the idea as Noya paused his playing with your other tit, considering the request. 

His lips popped off your chest with a slight pop from suction, and you couldn’t help but blush as he looked up at you adoringly before his eyes flicked back to Hinata. He shrugged lightly, looking back at you patiently. 

“Sure, I don’t mind. She has two. Babe?” he questioned, and you swallowed under his watchful eyes, looking back at Hinata who looked ready to vibrate out of his seat at the idea.

Briefly, the question of if he had ever even seen a woman’s tits in person crossed your mind, but you were drawn from your thoughts just as quickly when Noya rubbed at your chest soothingly. 

It was a comforting touch, a reminder that you didn’t have to let Hinata try if you didn’t want to. That, if you voiced your concerns, Noya would just as quickly kick both of his friends out and follow you to bed as if nothing had ever happened.

Yet you knew at the same time, that wasn’t what Noya wanted. If it was, he would have never let it get this far. He would have denied Hinata’s request before he even voiced it, and he certainly wouldn’t be watching you like he was right now. 

That fact alone was the reason you found yourself nodding, even as more blood rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“It’s ok,” you promised and both boys grinned at you in excitement. 

As Noya gestured to Hinata, the red-head bounded over before he hesitated at your side. Noya shifted then, sitting up as he pulled you up with him.

A pointed look from Noya had Hinata sliding onto the couch next to you, his eyes still glued to your chest as he waited for further instruction. 

Noya’s hands found the bottom of your shirt, waiting until you nodded before he pulled it over your head and draping it on the side of the couch as he reached out to knead at your chest with his hands in appreciation.

You could feel Tanaka’s and Hinata’s eyes on you as he played with your chest, Noya’s eyes flicking up to you as he smiled in excitement. He leaned forward to kiss a soft kiss to your side. 

His eyes darted back to Hinata, who was watching quietly, leaning forward on his legs with his lips parted. As Noya’s lips closed around your nipple, Hinata took it as his permission as well. He leaned forward, his lips eagerly attaching to your other side as his eyes fluttered shut.

The contrast between the two men was immediately clear. Noya had long since gotten over his eagerness, usually favoring a slower approach and treatment knowing he’d have plenty of time at your breast, but Hinata was the exact opposite.

Hinata sucked eagerly at your bud, teeth grazing it as he nipped impatiently, excited as he was.

You couldn’t help the soft tenses against the rough treatment and Noya immediately sensed it, smacking the back of Hinata’s head with an open palm as he yelped, “oi! Shoyo, be nice.”

A snort of laughter suddenly reminded you there was another man present in the room, who now looked quite amused even as Hinata apologized to you. Eyes flicking up from your chest where the two men were still bickering, you looked at Tanaka in concern.

Sensing your worry, Tanaka smiled softly at you. 

“It’s okay,” he promised before you could speak. “I just want to watch.”

Noya hummed in response to Tanaka, rubbing his face against your breast, drawing you back to the men below you before his lips returned to your breast, this time watching Hinata as he carefully imitated Noya. 

Hinata’s lips slowly wrapped around your nipple this time as he laved at it with his tongue. 

“Better,” Noya responded, voice muffled by your breast--which he refused to give up as he pressed you back slightly with his face, and Hinata chased after it. 

Your hands idly came up to both men’s hair as you played in it lightly, smiling as they both sighed happily into your skin while they played with your tits.

Your attention flicked back to the now-forgotten movie for a moment before they flicked down to Hinata’s hips, which were now rocking slightly at their own pace into the press of his hands onto his clothes.

Again, you felt your cheeks heat softly in embarrassment, you don’t know why that action would get that response from you. Surely it was a normal response; much more normal than Noya’s content attitude to just simply want to suck at your chest.

Yet you couldn’t look away from Hinata’s relaxed face as he nuzzled further into your breast, sucking at it firmly as he pressed his own palms deeper into the bulge of his pants. The idea that Hinata was getting aroused by the simple action had a pit swirling in your stomach, alongside the gentle sucking of the two men.

A quick glance up at Tanaka showed you he was also palming himself through his jeans at the sight, and meeting your eyes, he smiled bashfully, dropping his gaze to avoid your glance.

As if he could sense the other men's reaction to you, and your quickened heartbeat, Noya pulled back from your chest. As he looked at you with puffy lips from his sucking, he smiled.

A sight that caused you to squirm under the glaze which had Hinata pulling away from your chest in confusion. He looked between you both, unsure what the issue was.

“Oi, Shoyo.” Noya mused, “Wanna see what else is fun?”

[nxrthmizu]

Hello!! Could I request a number 7 and fluff for Nishinoya? platonic to romatic if possible? I'm a very friendly and energetic person. I'm very talkative and outgoing, and I tend to show my affection for others a lot! Thank you~~

| Pandas and Bamboos | Nishinoya Yuu 

»»——⍟——««

prompt | #7- Animals 

pairing | Nishinoya Yuu x Reader

words | 1.9k 

author’s note | Hello! Here’s my first Nishinoya piece, so I hope it’s accurate! Enjoy~ 

»»——⍟——««

“You promise?” You asked one more time for good measure, delight making your toes curl. “You promise?” 

Nishinoya Yuu, your best friend- Rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yes! If you help me practice, I promise I’ll take you to the zoo next week.” 

“Deal!” You grinned from ear-to-ear, picking up a ball from the net. “Here we go!” 

The two of you were in the the backyard of your house, where there was a small volleyball court that your older brother used to practice in. You had dragged up a wooden board that blocked the view of the other side of the court, and Nishinoya was stretching his muscles in the centre of the court. 

“Here we go!” You told him, taking a deep breath and sending an overhand serve straight at the wooden board. The ball bounced off the wooden board and changed direction in less than a second. It ricocheted towards the court, but before it could touch the concrete, your golden-eyed bestfriend dove for the ball, sending it up into the air. 

A wave of thrill brushed through your body as you jumped, spiking the ball towards the board. It bounced off again, like expected, and once again Nishinoya was there to dig it up. The two of you repeated the spike-dig-spike-dig routine over and over again until one of your spikes shot out of court. 

Pants clouded the air as the two of you caught your breath after an exhilarating five minutes of practice. 

A spark glinted sharply in his golden irises as he looked up at you. “Again!” 

»»——⍟——««

In the end, the both of you had worn yourselves out for the next three hours until your muscles were sore and you were ready to drop. Nishinoya’s energy seemed to never deplete. By the end of three hours, your mother hollered for the two of you to come for dinner- Yuu was at your house so often that your mother had started making dinner for him, too. 

He did keep his promise, though. 

One week later, at 5am in the morning, Nishinoya had greeted your mother, who was out early to feed the chickens, and let himself into the house. 

“Y/N!” He whisper-yelled into your ear, making you jump and scream simultaneously. “Let’s go! We’re going to the zoo!” 

You caught your breath and your heart, wanting to slap your bestfriend for scaring the hell out of you at the crack of dawn. “The sun isn’t even up yet!” You complained, burrowing yourself back into your covers. 

“We’re taking an early train so we avoid the crowd!” He yanked your blanket away from you. “Come on, I’m skipping volleyball practice for this. Get up! We don’t have time to waste!” 

A groan rumbled down your throat as you begrudgingly dragged your sorry ass out of bed. “How are you always this energetic?” You whined. 

Five minutes later, the two of you said goodbye to your mother, and then the two of you were on your bike, Nishinoya cycling with your seated on the main seat with you sighing sleepily on the pillion. Both of your bags were tossed in the basket in front of the bicycle, jiggling against the metal frame as the two of you descended down a hill. 

A smile spread across Yuu’s lips as you leaned forward, your cheek resting on his back as you dozed off lightly. His heart fluttered quietly while he biked on contentedly, trying to pedal softer as not to wake you. 

“Y/N-chan.” He whispered, feeling your stir awake behind him. “We’re almost at the station.” 

You blinked sleep away from your eyes as the two of you rolled up to the front of Sendai Station, the sun just barely rising over the horizon. “That’s fast.” You yawned. 

“Of course!” He huffed. “You weren’t the one that had paddle up and down numerous hills.” 

»»——⍟——««

“Look at that! We’re the earliest.” Yuu said triumphantly. You gave him a deadpanned look. 

“Yuu, the ticket counter isn’t even open yet.” You told him dryly. “Come on, that coffee shop’s open. We could go grab some coffee and wait for them to open.” 

He pouted as you dragged him into the shop. 

“Sit. Keep an eye on the ticket counter.” You told him sternly, plopping him down at one of the tables next to a window that had a view of the zoo’s ticket counter. “Don’t go anywhere, Yuu.” You warned. 

A soft laugh bubbled out your throat as you watched Yuu sit quietly by the window like a freshly-scolded puppy. “I’ll have... A mocha and a hot chocolate with extra cream, please.” You requested with a smile at the tired-looking barista. 

“Here you go.” The barista told you with a sigh. “Enjoy.” 

“You can stop looking so sad now, Yuu.” You flicked his forehead with your finger, grinning at him. “Here’s your hot chocolate with extra cream.” 

He brightened immediately. “You do love me!” Nishinoya exclaimed victoriously as you rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. 

“I do not.” 

“You do!” 

“I do not.” 

“You do!”

In the end, you stuck out your tongue at him childishly, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Fine, I do.” 

“Ha!” 

“But that’s only because no one else would love an idiot like you.” 

»»——⍟——««

Nishinoya bit his lip, deep in his own thoughts as he waited for the ticket counter lady to give him two tickets. Did you mean it when you said you did love him? And... Did you love him romantically? 

“Sir.” The ticket lady snapped him out of his daze. “Here’s your tickets. The entrance is over there.” She pointed, giving him a weird look. It was not common to see teenage boys get up at the crack of dawn just to be the first one into the zoo. 

“Y/N!” He called out to you, who was sitting on a bench, scrolling through your phone as you waited for him to get the tickets. “Here you go!” He looped the ticket around your wrist, holding out his for you to do. 

“Don’t move.” You instructed, tying the plastic around his wrist. “Okay, let’s go!” 

Nishinoya bounced through the entrance with you, the two of you too overly-excited for the security guard’s liking. 

“Thank you!” You shot a bright smile at the security guard; Nishinoya dragging you off even as you spoke, already rambling about [your favourite animal]. “Oh my god, Yuu, slow down!” You panted, your hand slipping away from his as you stopped, panting. The libero of Karasuno’s volleyball team had dragged you across half of the zoo, having already memorised where the [your favourite animal] enclosure would be. 

“Hurry up, Y/N-chan!”  Yuu grinned brightly. “If we hurry up, we might be able to see the [your favourite animal] before it wakes up!” 

Your eyes brightened. “Really?” 

“Yeah!” 

»»——⍟——««

The two of you had eventually stopped running around like maniacs and had turned to walking around the enclosures one by one. 

“What is that?” Yuu’s jaw dropped as he stared into the platypus enclosure. “It looks so weird.” 

“That’s a platypus.” You snorted, speed-reading through the information panel next to the enclosure. “It looks like you.” 

Yuu’s eyes shone brightly, his golden irises glistening like the sun. “You think I look special?” 

“I never said that!” You reeled back indignantly. “Did you know platypuses are mammals but they lay eggs?”

“That’s so cool!” He exclaimed, jumping up into the air to get a better view of the platypus, who looked unamused at him. “Hello platypus! Y/N-chan thinks we’re both special!” 

»»——⍟——««

“So cute!” You squealed, your eyes fixated on the giant panda that was munching happily on a piece of bamboo. “That bamboo looks very tasty, too.” 

“I’m going to go steal the bamboo from it.” Yuu decided before you jerked his shirt harshly, giving him a stern glare. 

“Don’t you dare steal someone else’s food.” You hissed at him, glowering. “The bamboo is very important to the panda! Look at it!” You pointed at the furry black-and-white animal. “He looks at the bamboo like it’s the thing he loves most in the world!” 

Yuu nodded like he had just been enlightened about his purpose on the planet. “I see now! You’re right!” 

“I wish someone could look at me the way the panda looks at the bamboo.” You sighed dreamily. Nishinoya turned to fix his golden irises on you, watching the way your [hair colour] hair swayed in the slight wind, feeling his heart flutter at the way you stared at the panda in utter adoration. 

“I do.” He muttered softly. 

“What was that?” You glanced up in surprise, not having heard what he said. “Yuu?” 

He grinned brightly. “We’re totally buying panda plushies at the souvenir shop later!”  

»»——⍟——««

“Thank you!” You squealed, jumping into Yuu’s arms, enveloping him with a bear hug. Other visitors around the souvenir shop shot the two of you weird looks, but the two of you were too absorbed in your world to notice. “It’s so cute!” You grinned, squishing the cheeks of your new panda plushy. “I’m going to name him Yuu!” 

Nishinoya cackled victoriously. “You’re naming him Yuu because he’s cute like me, right?” 

“Oh, keep dreaming.” You scoffed, whacking his head lightly. “Say one more word and I’m naming him Ennoshita.” An evil laugh rung inside your head as Yuu reacted, looking offended and horrified at the thought. 

“You wouldn’t!” 

---

“Yuu?” 

He hummed in response, his feet constantly pushing the bike forward as the two of you rode out of the roads leading to Sendai Station. 

“Thanks for today.” You mumbled into his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his waist. “And the plushy.” 

He coughed, feeling a blush paint itself onto his cheeks in the shade of Nekoma’s uniform. “I was just repaying you for practicing with me. Practice with me again next week, and we’ll go to...” 

“The fox village!” You suggested happily. “Squishy foxes with squishy cheeks.” 

Squishing the cheeks of foxes didn’t sound very safe to him, but what the hell, Nishinoya thought. If any of the foxes dared to bite you, he’d rolling thunder them. “Sure!” He agreed quickly. He got to spend time practicing with you- And then he’d get to bring you out to places you wanted to go. Yuu really didn’t see any downside at all. 

“And... About what you said at the panda enclosure... Did you mean it?” You asked suddenly, your voice getting softer as you burrowed your face into his back in embarrassment. 

The bike screeched to a stop as Yuu pressed the brakes too suddenly, almost sending the two of you flying forward. “You- You heard that?” He turned to look at you with an incredulous expression. 

“Y- Yeah.” 

“Oh. Um.” He coughed awkwardly.  “Yeah.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, too scared to face whatever teasing remark you would throw at him. Instead, he felt your lips on his cheek, but by the time he shot his eyes open, you had already drew back, a fierce red on your cheeks. 

“Um. I look at you like the panda looks at the bamboo too.” You admitted. “When you’re not looking.” 

A grin slowly spread across his cheeks as he tried to keep his heart from bursting from the sheer amount of affection he had for you. “So. We’re going to the fox village next week?” 

He turned back, pedalling up the hill with renewed energy as you wrapped your arms around his waist tighter. “Yeah.” 

»»——⍟——««

Thank you for the request! 💕

@owlywrites one day we are going to go to Miyagi and we’re going to cuddle foxes- Look up Miyagi Zao Fox Village, they’re too cute for me- 

»»——⍟——««

[mlkytobio]

loving isn’t easy, but it’s bearable with you

a/n: for the cheese cult fic event <3 i tried my best lol

genre: little bit of angst if you squint + fluff // hanahaki au

warning: mentions of blood, but nothing too graphic

pairing: nishinoya x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k 

the hanahaki disease was something that everyone knew of. there were people covered head to toe in flowers, each one a reminder of a time where they had loved. and then there were the few lucky ones, the ones who just happened to have their soulmate as their first love. the ones with only a small flower tattoo over one of their body parts.

everyone covered all over with tattoos always knew that it was harmless at first, little flower petals being spat out, and then becoming thorns that scratch the inside of your throat as they come up. the process of coughing out the flowers was always quick, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful. more often than not, blood comes out with the flowers and thorns. it depends though, on the type of love.

you had fallen in love exactly three times. and for one of those three times, you had a trail of forget-me-nots trailing up your right forearm. for the memories of true love, and like the name suggested, “do not forget me”. for the time you had loved miya osamu and he loved you back, and it only ended because you had to move to miyagi. maybe there were more reasons for it, but it was a mutual agreement. he was your first love.

-

terushima yuuji was your second love. and as a result, tulips bloomed across your left wrist, for unrequited love. and it was also the first thing people see when they looked at you. because well, the flower was highlighted with red, like blood, almost. maybe it was a little cliche, for you to have fallen in love with johzenji’s resident playboy. but you couldn’t help it. every little smile he sent you while from his usual seat at the cafe you worked at, every brush of your fingers against his when you went to take his order sending electricity running up your spine.

with osamu, it had been small flower petals and smiles about the flowers that came tumbling out. sometimes you even saved the flowers, but they wilted soon after. still, before you knew that osamu felt the same way,the coughing out the flowers wasn't painful. but why was it with terushima? there were thorns sitting in the bathroom sink, crimson red pooling all around them. and it only got worse after that.

still, you fell in love with terushima yuuji. you fell for his smirk and his tongue piercing and his sly words. and when he walked into the cafe that day, he broke your heart, having a girl draped on his arm and she looked at him the way you thought you looked at him. he broke your heart unknowingly, perhaps, but it was heartbreak all the same. you half expected it, but there was a part of you that hoped, nevertheless, that he would feel the same way.

that day, you coughed out tulips among pools of blood, and it was in the same night that you chose to go get the surgery. you knew you were one of the more privileged to get the surgery, and it was foolish to waste it on a teenager’s stupid crush. but it was better to have others look at you with pity. maybe it was a little dramatic, but you knew you were doomed from the start. this only gave you more reason to do it.

the doctor had given you a look of pity, but everyone did. everyone saw the way you looked at terushima yuuji and felt nothing but pity. and if that doctor expected a story, he had to wait a damn long time for it.

it didn’t hurt as much as you expected it to. just prickling along the skin, and then when you looked down, your left forearm was covered in blood-red tulips. maybe it didn’t hurt because the thorns had hurt more. the unrequited love hurt much more than getting your lungs pried open than living with thorns creeping up your throat every single day for the rest of your life, knowing that once upon a time you were stupid enough to fall in love with terushima yuuji.

-

everyone at karasuno knew you as the girl who couldn’t live with her love anymore. the girl who squandered away her privilege for the surgery for a mere high school crush.

the volleyball team were the first people who understood your decision. the first people who didn’t talk about you behind your back about how you wasted your probably only chance of getting the surgery and how you were a spoiled brat that deserved the pain anyways. you had heard of every single rumour that people spread about you, and although you tried to ignore them, they were like a thousand little knives cutting into your back every single day.

the volleyball team was where you felt at home. the sleek wood floor of the gym and the frequent shout, mostly from kageyama to hinata. there was some sort of solace in the walls of the gym, almost like it was its own little world set apart from all the rumours on the outside.

becoming their manager was one of the best choices you ever made.

“y/l/n! come and see my new move!” you looked over to nishinoya, his blond tuft of hair slicked against his forehead. you smiled to yourself, knowing that it was probably some other variation of rolling thunder or of the sort. still, it was one of the things you loved most about practice, the players’ enthusiasm and desire to win was forever unwavering.

nishinoya received the ball in a sort of speed that made you dizzy when you first saw it, but even after so long your eyes could only adjust slightly to it. he’s grinning, and you couldn’t help but give a smile back, because it’s nishinoya yuu and his energetic self that could put everyone to shame.

you never paid much attention to nishinoya yuu. sure, he got suspended from the volleyball club for a month for breaking something, but you saw what happened. you saw that he didn’t mean to, that he was just trying to get his friend back. the blond tuft in his hair was the first thing you saw when you first stepped into the classroom, but still, you never stopped and looked at him carefully. until you joined the volleyball club as a manager, and then suddenly you see the bright energy surrounding the short libero, and wondered how exactly did you not notice him before.

you chalked it up to curiosity, to the strange spike of his hair and the way a room lit up somehow when he walked into it.this boy was like the sun, too bright for his own good and probably burns anyone who got too close.

practices only made you notice him more, of course. and maybe he noticed you too, from all the little smiles that looked like they were directed at you and the glances he kept giving you.

to most people, flowers were things of beauty, but to you, they represented a dark time. they represented getting your heart broken and the person who broke it didn’t even know. love was the same, crushing and suffocating you, and the two just so happened to be linked. every flower you saw, especially tulips, made you turn away at the sight. so did love.

love was a curious little thing, taunting you and when it pulled you in, only then will it reveal itself to be deadly. coiling around you, your heart, more like it, and every waking thought, like some sort of boa. it suffocates you, then brings you down with it.

-

nishinoya yuu heard about you before he even met you. about the girl who had red tulips imprinted on her skin, basically a form of public shaming. he never thought about you as someone who wasted away their chances, though. everyone had heard of at least one story where because of love, people had squandered away their lives, and he was no exception. your life was more precious than some unrequited love, so what was wrong with getting the surgery? he had never understood why people held a grudge against you, and so did the rest of the volleyball team.

most of the second years walked home together, and you were in front of nishinoya when he suddenly grabbed onto your shoulders and started jumping up and down in the air. you saw him doing this before, but with other members of the team, and your first thought was: why did he have so much strength?

“oi, noya! don’t be so hard on our manager!” tanaka laughed, and noya’s hands released their grip on your shoulders, his face cherry red. you found it a little cute, actually, if it weren’t for the ache in your shoulders from how tightly he had held on to them.

“i’m so sorry y/n-san!” he sputtered out, even as you said that it was fine, you weren’t injured, but as he kept apologising, all you could say in that moment was “okay, then i’ll let you make it up to me.”

his head lifted up, eyes filled with something indescribable, as he agreed. “i promise you that i’ll make it up to you, y/l/n-san! i’ll take you out on saturday!”

-

a flower petal was floating in his teacup when he sat it down. you looked at him, surprised, but stayed silent, giving him a napkin. he looked at you with a grateful look in his eyes, the tuft of blond hair being swept to the back as he ran his fingers through his hair.

it was spring in japan, when all the sakura flowers started blooming and there were couples all around you. you never liked spring, or maybe you did, and the hanahaki just made you despise it. anything related to flowers you didn’t like, you realised.

“do you know who is it?” you gently asked as both of you walked down the street together. the pink flowers were everywhere, on the cobblestone path that your shoes scuffed against, and on the tall trees looming over you. he looked at you then, slightly surprised, but answered it anyway.

“i think so, i mean, i have a vague idea of who it is,” he gave a reply that was strange of nishinoya, but perhaps it was due to the fact you weren’t that close with him as you were with maybe tanaka, or ennoshita.

“well, i hope they feel the same way,” you gave him a small smile, and he returned it, but there was something lurking deeper in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

he walked you home, and when you were about to say goodbye, his gaze fixated on you, as if there was something he wanted to say but didn’t want to.

you were about to ask what was it when he yelled out, “y/l/n-san, i like you!”

how ironic, was the first thing that went through your mind. how ironic that you were intrigued by him and now here he was, confessing to you. how ironic it was that this exact scene gave you deja vu, of when you confessed to osamu. how ironic it was that when the thing you tried so hard to avoid doing turned into you being on the receiving end of it. falling in love.

“i-i’m sorry, nishinoya-kun, but i don’t really want to fall in love right now,” the words left your lips before your mind could even register them. his face fell at that, and you wished you could take it all back, say that you would give him a chance, but all he said was “that’s okay! i hope you can reconsider. have a good night y/l/n-san!”

you watched his figure retreat into the shadows, until all you could see was the faint outline of him walking. you thought about his words, and of a time you loved terushima yuuji. the memories of that were laced with regret, but then again, when you loved him, and osamu at that, all you could feel was pure euphoria. the climax of a roller coaster ride, when you’re tipping at the top and it felt like forever before it made its decent again.

-

hoodies weren’t your favourite piece of clothing, but they made well for covering the red ink on your forearm. as you pulled the hood over your head again, hoping to cover your face, you heard the familiar jeer. it wasn’t foreign for you to have insults hurled wherever you go, only for the person who shouted them to disappear into the crowd when you looked over your shoulder. and so, you always said to yourself not to look. it was better not to place a face to the voice.

“attention-seeking bitch,” you heard someone mutter, followed by the laughing. don’t look, don’t look, was all you thought as you made your way through the crowd in the hallways.

“i hope whoever you ‘loved’ is dating someone much better and more deserving right now,” was one of the more prominent insults that were in your range of hearing. gasping to yourself, you felt an empty ache in your chest, probably where your feelings had been. still, it hurt. it hurt for people to not understand your decision, for them to constantly belittle and insult you as if pain was something to be made fun of. you felt blood rushing in your ears, vision growing blurry as you tried to walk, run, even, out of that hellhole. throat constricting and breathing growing ragged.

“stop!” you heard someone say. you only increased your pace. “stop it, right now. all of you.”

it wasn’t directed at you, but to the people crowding around you. “it’s not funny to ridicule someone who has been through pain,” you recognised the voice this time. the voice of the person who constantly shouted excitedly in practice, even at the smallest things. nishinoya yuu.

he walked over to you, placing his hands lightly on your shoulders as he led you away from the gaping students. “if you feel uncomfortable, i’ll stop right now,” he whispered, just loud enough for your ears to pick up. you shook your head, the only thing you could muster then.

he led you to an isolated space behind the gym, where only then did you release your tears. and he was there, not uttering a single word, just silent companionship, and that was enough.

as you regained your breath, a single flower petal floated delicately out of your lips. he noticed it too.

“thank you, nishinoya-kun,” you said, gaze not leaving the flower as it sailed on the wind. no blood or thorns, though, you thought.

“i feel like the word love has been taken out of definition with me,” you whispered. “but i want to give you a chance, at changing the definition with me.”

he smiled at you, his hands on your shoulder once again. “i’d like that.”

-

the sakura flowers were in bloom yet again, and for once, you found them beautiful.

“do you remember-” the boy started, but you cut him off.

“when you took me out as an apology for jumping on my shoulders? yeah,” you grinned.

“i always thought you were beautiful, you know. and never understood why you got made fun of for choosing to have the surgery,” he said.

“well, i’m glad they did. it led me to you, didn’t it?” you smiled at him.

his hand found yours, and the two of you walked down the same cobblestone path you did a year ago. maybe love wasn’t easy, but there were some people that made it bearable. like nishinoya yuu.

and that was the third time you fell in love.

-

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[bakutae]

haikyuu headcanons #4

today's menu:

a shot of bokuto kotaro, drip of sugawara koushi and a glass nishinoya yuu

scenario:

losing their child in the supermarket

author's note:

i had a lot of fun writing this~

bokuto kotaro

honestly speaking, are we even surprised that he forgot about his kid?

if you are then hi there, you must be new to the haikyuu fandom

leaving bokuto and his kid alone in the supermarket was one of the worst things you could ever do

but you had no choice; or rather, they had no choice

bokuto wanted to go to the supermarket to get some ingredients for the surprise anniversary dinner for the two of you and he didn't want to leave your two year old kid alone at home

you just so happened out with friends during the day and could not take care of her (it's gonna be a girl that's going to be spoiled rotten by bokuto)

so the two of them went, using the public bus and he almost lost her, since he almost forgot to pick her up when they left the bus stop at their stop

it was only until an elderly woman asked him if that was his child, and only then did he realise that he actually had a daughter and was there with her

oh my god bokuto i swear-

he felt so guilty when he saw his daughter on the bus seat, with her brown eyes that she got from kotaro staring at him, with a hint of confusion in her eyes

"babyy i'm so sorry for leaving youu! daddy will never ever forget about you again okay?" he'll tell her, pouting

and literally fifteen minutes later he lost her again

he was so excited and was so absorbed in looking at the cuts of meat that he, once again, completely forgot about the existence of his daughter

spent a good amount of time choosing between sirloin and ribeye and kept asking the staff what the difference was when he was interrupted by the intercom in the supermarket

"attention please, we have a lost child at cashier number one, i repeat, cashier number one. she's wearing a pink dress with a ribbon on the top left, and has both...black and white hair?"

bokuto heard it, but decided that it had nothing to do with him and ignored it

"she appears to have...brown eyes *distant crying sounds* and oh my- please don't pull at my hair! *static noises*"

"pfft, what a feisty kiddo." bokuto mutters to himself, while listening intently to the butcher, eyes fixated of both cuts of meat

"*weird muffled sounds* waa! daddy!! *thumping sounds on mic*"

when he heard the kid's voice, bokuto jumped and hastily looked behind him

his daughter was gone

looks at the butcher, a horrified expression on his face

"i-is that my daughter..?"

to which the butcher is confused and replies with "i...don't know sir. is she?"

"shit."

and he drops everything and leaves for cashier number one while almost tripping over himself smh bokuto are you the baby or is your daughter the baby

sugawara koushi

let's be real, he'll never lose his kid at the supermarket

he's way to father material to even do that

but because he's father material, he will lose his children at the supermarket because he has... too many kids

alright let's say you popped out five kids within the span of three years; one oldest boy, one pair of twins, both girls and another pair of twins, one boy one girl

you and him hadn't actually planned to produce that many offspring in that short period of time but you two were in a blissful family and wouldn't trade it for the world

okay so, the oldest was six, first pair of twins were five and the second pair were four; basically a nightmare to take care of in the mornings

but somehow, he does it? cause he's THAT sugawara koushi if you get the reference you're a real one

okay so, you were trying to make dinner, when you realise that you ran out of ingredients to feed your big family and asked sugawara to help you get them at the supermarket

at first, it started with the oldest boy wanting to follow him, to which he said yes to

but soon, every single one of the children wanted to tag along with him

he found it too difficult to say no since he didn't want to see any creases on their faces so he reluctantly agreed

you knew how fatherly he was anyways so you didn't object and sent him off at the door

it was quite the journey though, the both pair of twins kept chasing each other in the streets and almost gave sugawara a heart attack when they ran out to the roads

luckily, there were no cars around

he really let his emotions get to him and lectured the four young ones in a harsh tone on how important road safety was and how they only had one life and they should be careful

if it were you lecturing them, the kids literally would not care

but since it was their precious father doing so, they decided to be obedient and walked like a normal human being while the oldest one is just there oops

honestly, sugawara would have had it handled before they reached the supermarket so it would be all good in the end :)

nishinoya yuu

he was out with his son to the supermarket because he was asking for some power rangers special chocolate bar that all his friends in kindergarten had so he wanted one too

noya, who loves his son to bits, agreed to buying him a couple bars to bring to school throughout the next few weeks and thus goes to the supermarket with him alone

you wanted to come, however, you were suddenly down with a cold and couldn't join the both of them

when he reached the supermarket, his son immediately goes in a frenzy at the thought if the chocolate bars and runs away

and soon enough, could no longer be seen

he panics

he starts to panic because he's afraid of what would happen if he doesn't find him (i feel like his kid would be a boy that will be a splitting image of him) and would be really scared of your reaction towards it

so when that happens, the first thing that comes to his mind is to panic-call you

he really didn't want to disturb you when you were sick but to him, that was the best option available

"u-uh, y/n? i lost our baby."

"what? *cough* oh my, yuu, maybe going to the cashier would help? they can make an announcement after all."

you knew better than to lash out on him so you decided that giving him advice on how to tackle the situation would be better

"thank you so much, i love you. sorry for calling you while you're sick!"

he ends the call and scurries along to the cashier where the announcement machine thing was

"h-hi there. i-i'm..."

before he could finish his sentence, the lady working at the cashier asked him

"hi there, little one. are you looking for your parents?"

nishinoya: 0-0

he was about to get annoyed when he reminded himself what he was there for and shook his head briefly

"no, i'm not. i'm actually looking for my child? he's a boy, around six years old, wait no he's six years old this year. has black hair and brown eyes, is wearing a tayo the little bus shirt with snoopy pants. could you make an announcement for him? thank you."

the lady was shocked, needless to say

"ah...right. i'm sorry! i thought you were-"

"it's fine, just please hurry page for my kid thanks"

so after she paged for him, he was waiting there, pacing back and forth, worried sick as he shoots longing looks towards the shelves, hoping that some kind soul would bring his son back to him

with you still in his mind, he'll send you a quick text on how he already paged for y'all's son and was now waiting for his return

soon enough, he heard someone scream 'daddy!' really loudly while making a beeline for him

he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders and sighed with relief when he saw the familar silhouette of his son

he'll bow and thank the cashier before running to the kid

"where did you run off to? i was so worried!"

"to the choco bar area daddy! that's why we came here right?"

nishinoya has never felt more dumb in his entire life

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