#i may maybe delete this later sigh

[nomazee]

a month ago i said i would yell about misogyny and patriarchal themes in fanfiction and eventually i will but there are so many thoughts and feelings in my head that it will take me forever to type it down. But i will say this

Be critical of the things you read. i’m not saying you CANT read for enjoyment—you CAN and SHOULD read for fun. But i’m saying that sometimes you should take notice of the themes in writing and think “wow, i wonder why that’s written like that. Is this harmful or is this helpful?”

it’s a given that fanfiction is widely heteronormative because society and media blah blah blah We know all of this … but in my opinion i think it’s important to think about why women in hetero fics are portrayed the way they are sometimes. I think reader insert fics have gone a long way in being more inclusive and less harmful than they were years ago BUT. Do not let that stop you from recognizing themes in the works you read right now

like; Why are misogyny-affected people written a certain way?? Why are there often degrading themes in a lot of tropes and fics regarding women?? Why are there certain roles that misogyny affected people are expected to fulfill even in fiction?? why are women often the “default” for fics with male characters?? think about any of these questions for like longer than two minutes, read a bad fic, and you will probably see where i’m coming from

#this might be mindless nonsense #but i hope whoever is reading this can see where im coming from #there are a lot of harmful tropes in fanfiction #even those without a feminine leaning reader #and i think it's importnat to read for enjoyment while also thinking about the underlying meaning in writing #Everything is written the WAY it is written for a reason #whether the author realizes it or not #whether YOU as a reader realize it or not #i think very strongly of this #there’s a video i watched that re-ignited a lot of strong feelings for me about this #'booktok brainrot and why its okay to be a hater' by alisha not alihsha #very good points and that video mainly talks about like actual PUBLISHED books but that still very much applies to fics #all writing is important #i may maybe delete this later sigh #i really hope i do not come off as some elitist writer #the point is. read and write for fun. but sometimes its important to take the time to think about why things are the way they are #and if what youre writing/reading contributes or takes away from the harm #nora speaks

[slayfics]

Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fan fiction about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Katsuki gets his provisional licenses.

Chapter links

You tossed and turned in bed, unable to get comfortable or fall asleep. You turned to your side and gazed at the stuffed bear Katsuki had given you- or more like shoved into your arms.

Your mind raced with regret. You should have spoken up and agreed with Eijiro that you wanted to say good night to Katsuki alone but- you couldn't help but feel nervous and overwhelmed.

Why didn't Katsuki say anything?

You let out an exhausted sigh and grabbed your phone. Unlocking your phone and staring at the text thread between you and Katsuki, you contemplated something to say. You typed out a sentence, decided it sounded stupid, and deleted it.

Then to your surprise as you were trying to think of something else to say, you saw three dots appear on the screen indicating Katsuki was typing as well. You set your phone down and decided to wait for his message before you sent one. 

You felt your eyes get heavy as you patiently waited- and before you knew it you had dozed off to sleep.

As soon as you came back to consciousness you reached for your phone to see if Katsuki ever sent a message but- your phone had no notifications from him.

Could it be that he was also struggling with what to say? Or maybe the three dots you saw were a mistake.

Either way, it was too late now. Katsuki was at his last supplemental class for his provisional licenses by now. You put your phone down disappointingly and got ready for the day.

Later in the common room, your classmates talked about Shoto and Katsuki taking their final class.

"They will pass, won't they?" Kyoka asked.

"Oh yeah- Bakugo may be a jerk, but he's been doing really good lately," Toru said.

"Maybe I'll make a cake while we're all waiting," Rikido suggested.

"Yeah, we could have a little surprise party for them," Momo encouraged.

The rest of your classmates agreed excitedly.

You shuffled uncomfortably on the couch, "I don't know- something tells me Bakugo would hate that," you spoke. While your classmates did have good intentions- you knew it would just be a reminder to Katsuki that he had fallen behind everyone.

"Bakugo is always a grouch no matter what! Besides they both worked hard and I'm sure Todoroki would appreciate it," Toru countered. 

Being outnumbered by your classmate's enthusiasm, you decided to go along with the plan.

When Shoto and Katsuki returned to the dorms, everyone turned off the lights in anticipation of surprising them.  

The two boys walked in confused by the vacant common room.

"Did we have a blackout or something? Katsuki asked.

"Maybe everyone else left the dorms?" Shoto suggested.

Your classmates then turned on the lights and popped some party streamers causing Shoto and Katsuki to jump in surprise.  

You stood timidly in the back of the group as you watched Rikido present the cake to the two boys.

"That thing is massive!" Katsuki barked his face in a scowl from surprise.

You rolled your eyes as multiple of your classmates fawned over Shoto. Then just as you had predicted Katsuki yelled in a rage at Izuku who attempted to praise him.

"Congrats! Now we can do hero work together! It'll be great, Kacchan!" Izuku sang.

"What do you think you're better than me 'cause you got your license first!?" Katsuki yelled.

"No no! That's not what I meant!" Izuku cried out as Katsuki continued to yell.

You made your way to get cake as the squabble continued. Eventually, Eijiro worked his way over to Katsuki and got him to relax. You eyed the situation as you kept to yourself. You knew Katsuki hated big crowds and too much attention- so you decided not to add to it.

Plus, with the awkward way things left off between you- you weren't sure what the right thing to say was.

It didn't take long for Katsuki to make a swift exit as soon as he could sneak away. You noticed him walk out the front door and shut it quickly behind him.

He must be super overwhelmed to go outside in the cold you realized. The cold was something he hated more than parties. Although he probably thought he couldn't sneak his way all the way to his dorm without someone noticing and trying to make him stay.

You took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to go outside and check on him.

You slipped out the door trying not to make a scene and avoid anyone following you.

Katsuki was sitting on the steps outside the door, "What do you want?" he barked before turning around, "Oh- it's you," he said glancing at you slightly and then resting his cheek back in his palm.

"You ok?" You asked.

"Hah!? Of course, I'm ok!" He yelled.

You sighed and sat next to him, "I just know you aren't a fan of parties and a lot of attention. I told them you would hate it," you spoke.

Katsuki let out a huff, "Yeah well- I get that they were trying to be nice. But... I'm just tired," he said.

"That's understandable, I'm sure it was a long day for you. It must be nice to be all done with those supplemental classes though," you said trying to lighten his mood.

Katsuki grunted in agreement his gaze still away from you, "Yeah glad to be done with that bull shit. It did have its moments thought," He spoke.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" You asked.

"Guess I never finished telling you," Katsuki said, a laugh escaping him. You smiled at his mood finally shifting. "During that test where we had to work with kids- the damn brats started calling Todoroki, Five Winnies," he said bursting out laughing.

"Those kids have better nicknames than you," You laughed with him until the short moment of laughter subsided and you both fell into an awkward silence once more.

"Hey um- I'm sorry about yesterday." You finally had the courage to say.

"Hu?" He murmured and looked at you for the first time of the night,

"After the festival when Kirishima tried to leave," You reminded him.

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about. But- what are you sorry about?" He asked, his eyes looking at you curiously.

"I uh- I just should have said something," You responded.

"Yeah? And what should you have said?" He questioned.

You felt yourself freeze. You hadn't expected him to pressure you into clarifying.

"I uh- I don't know-," You began to stammer. No matter how many times you replayed that scene in your head you couldn't bring yourself to tell Katsuki in-person what you would have liked to say.

You would have liked to thank Kirishima for giving you both privacy and then-

"Ugh," Katsuki grunted bringing you out of your thoughts, his face scrunching up back into his usual scowl. "Stop being such a damn coward and tell me how you feel already!" He barked.

Your face flushed at his words- had Katsuki noticed your crush on him this whole time??

"Come on, you think I'm stupid?! I always catch you watching me during training, you- snuck out to come find me when I was kidnapped, and you practically begged to come see me when I was on house arrest- and, at the summer camp... You were going to tell me you thought I was attractive, right? So just- ugh," he grunted in frustration again. "Look- I- I don't hate being around you like I do everyone else ok- and I know you feel whatever this is between us too, right?" 

You nodded shyly completely overwhelmed by his outburst of emotions.

"Good so just- let me kiss you yeah?" He proposed.

Your whole body trembled as your eyes scanned his for any sign that this was a joke. You had imagined scenarios like this playing out between you two so many times that it was hard to believe what was happening now was real.

"You- you do want that right?" he asked again, beginning to get impatient with your lack of response.

You nodded eagerly, unable to form any words.

"Tch- don't be so damn nervous, like I said- I... I like you too," he said, then awkwardly scooted closer to you.

You hadn't seen this expression on Katsuki's face before- was it nervousness? You never once saw him nervous in any sparring or training but- this seemed to be uncharted territory for him.

"Just- don't move ok," he said sternly as his hand shook, placing his finger under your chin and guiding your lips to his.

Katsuki rested his lips on yours, his touch shattered any doubts you had about this being real. The simple gesture transformed what was a friendship into something more meaningful and answered all your questions about how your classmate felt about you.

The blissful moment was over too soon, and your eyes locked on to his as he pulled away- the look on your face full of emotion.

"What?" Katsuki said, his face blushing as he looked away from you.

"Uh- nothing-... that was- that was nice..." you said looking away to hide your own blush.

"Tch- well... you better have enjoyed it because that's all you get," He barked.

"You're kidding right?" You said playfully scooting even closer to him.

"Hey careful brat," he said squirming at your closeness. "Look- I'm... not good at this stuff so... let me go at my own pace, alright?" He requested.

"Ok Bakugo," you agreed.

Katsuki winced, "I just kissed you- there's no need to be so formal with me anymore," He spoke.

"Oh- ok Katsuki," you said blushing once more.

"We should probably go back inside to that dumb party before someone comes looking for us," he said standing up.

You followed his lead standing up but as he was about to reach for the door you called out to him, "Hey Baku-... Katsuki?"

"What?" He asked, turning around.

You reached out and grabbed his hand interlacing your fingers with his.

Katsuki's face was taken over by another blush as he gazed at both your hands. Handholding was a small gesture- but walking back inside to the rest of your classmates like this was a big step. His nose scrunched up as he contemplated the consequences.  

You second-guessed yourself and tried to pull your hand away, "It's ok if that's too much," you said.

"No-," he said tightening his grip on your hand, refusing to let you pull away. "It's fine- I don't give a damn about any of those extras anyway. It doesn't make a difference to me if they... know about us- Come on let's just go- it's cold as fuck out here," he said swinging the door open with his other hand.

As if on some silent cue, the whole inside of the common room went silent as your classmate's heads turned to take in the sight of you and Katsuki holding hands.

"Ohhh~ does this mean it's official now~?" Mina sang, bringing her hands together with a huge grin on her face.

"YES FINALLY!" Eijiro yelled.

"WHAT?!" Denki exclaimed. "No way Kacchan gets a girlfriend before me!"

Your face flushed as you looked away from the prying eyes of your classmates.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!! ALL OF YOU! THE NEXT PERSON TO SAY A WORD GET'S THEIR FACE BLASTED YOU HEAR ME!?!" Katsuki yelled, the pupils disappearing from his eyes with rage.

Although your classmates were bursting at the seams trying to hold in laughter and comments, they respected Katsuki's wishes and said nothing else about your newfound relationship

Over time, with the privacy from your classmates, Katsuki slowly became more affectionate with you in his own way, and you both continued to learn how to navigate your relationship through all the stresses of working towards being pro heroes. Taking it one step at a time.

Thank you to everyone who supported this series! I appreciate all of you and I hope you’ve enjoyed it!

Tags: @anon-mouse223 @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @sikuthealien @queenpiranhadon @melrs21 @poemzcheng @kazuumii @bakunianadecorazon @ur-crusty-uncle @reads-stuff-quietly @chixkadee @perfectsukii @faetoraa @fem-weeb @nagicats @lees-chaotic-brain @maelibo @zanarkandskylines @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55

#katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #katsuki fanfic #katsuki fluff #bnha katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki #bakugou katsuki #anime x reader #anime x y/n #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo x reader #mha bakugo x reader #bakugo x gender neutral reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x self insert #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #mha fluff #mha bakugou #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x self insert #bnha x y/n #bnha x you

[lowgothree]

004. ༺BUT WITH EASE༻∘

a/n: OH MY GOD i feel so awkward abt this chapter lmaooo...probably gonna delete later. probably offensive.

summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.

contents: reader is (still) down bad. paige pining after an ex situationship. kinda angsty. smut (oh lord).

previous. next. masterlist.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

paige was being weird. and maybe you didn’t know her well enough to decipher that with certainty but you just knew. she didn’t knock on your door to beg for some of your snacks or inform you she was going to shower or to ask if you wanted to watch a movie with her anymore. she didn’t tell you goodmorning or goodnight…she didn’t tell you much of anything, really. in other words, paige was being fucking weird. 

it probably definitely shouldn’t bother you. after all, she’s your roommate and she has that thing with olivia. but it’s fucking killing you. slowly, from the inside out. 

TO: SEAN

i think my roommate hates me idk

FROM: SEAN

The sexy roommate that you want so bad? 

TO: SEAN

SHUT UP

her name is paige

FROM: SEAN

I know

The basketball player

Why does Paige hate us?

TO: SEAN

idfk

she’s just being weird

FROM: SEAN

Maybe you’re being weird…

Always staring at her and shit

She’s probably terrified for her life😬

TO: SEAN

u r a really bad person

FROM: SEAN

Remind me why you can’t just flirt with her again?

TO: SEAN

cause she’s dating someone

kind of

they’re weird

FROM: SEAN

So they’re weird

She’s weird

But you still want her?

TO: SEAN

real bad

FROM: SEAN

Oh lord

How serious is she with the girl she’s dating(?)?

you start to type a message back and then you see her. 

in a sports bra and shorts.

damn. 

you try not to stare at her perfectly lean stomach or her toned legs or her back or –– you’re staring. the moment you realize it you’re looking down at your blanket, pulling at the loose strings.

should you say something? would it be awkward to say something…? it’s awkward saying nothing though. before you had enough time to change your mind you cleared your throat and whispered. “hey…”

if the house wasn’t so silent she might not have even heard you.

“hi.” she muttered in response, back and shoulders tensing, doing nothing to soothe your nerves.

weird. weird. weird.

“um, i’m watching a movie…” you clear your throat, trying not to be obviously nervous. “do you wanna watch?”

paige turns around, sighing and shoulders relaxing. “why not?” she shuffles over next to you, plopping down on the couch. she smells fucking good. she sits close enough so that your arms and legs are touching, she doesn’t move for distance and neither do you.

you look over at her, noticing the way her eyes are glued to the screen. “are…are you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

“you sure? cause you’ve been acting off the past week…”

“it’s nothing…” she dismisses again. this time, you don’t push for more information, deciding that no matter how unbelievable they may be, you’d take her words at face value.

you nod and the two of you watch the movie in silence for about twenty more minutes before paige asks a question that makes you heart stop beating for a moment.

“how many girls have you been with?”

you immediately look over at her only to find her eyes trained directly on you. your eyes flutter a few times, as if trying to blink away the question. “...what?”

“sorry…that’s probably inappropriate to ask but i guess i’m just curious.” she looks ashamed and turns back over to watch the movie as her face turns red. 

“five.” you mumble after a few seconds.

she looks at you again, silently. you feel like all the breath is getting sucked out of your lungs a little more every second she doesn’t say anything. 

“olivia ended things with me. for real this time.” paige whispers like it’s a secret only meant for you to hear. you aren’t exactly sure why she’s telling you this…and you definitely aren’t sure why that makes you feel a bit giddy.

“oh…i’m ––– ” ecstatic. “sorry. that must suck. i know you said you didn’t love her but i’m sure you care about her deeply regardless.”

“i did.” past tense. eye contact. that slow, sultry voice. you feel like you’re drowning in her.

you remain silent, not sure of why her words bring you so much pause. 

“you wanna know why she ended things with me?” she moved fucking closer. her hand brushing up against your thigh and that causes the rational part of your brain –– the part that would tell you things like ‘no it’s too soon’, ‘she just ended things with olivia’, and ‘this isn’t how you wanted this to happen’ –– to shut off completely, only leaving you shuttering and nodding.

“cause she thinks i’m attracted to you.”

oh.

paige slowly trails her hand down to rest on your knee and you’ve never felt so stiff. “she isn’t wrong.”

there she goes with that warm, tempting and inviting voice again. before you even have time to react, she kisses you. you go from surprised to melting within seconds. it’s so natural pathetic how quickly you open your lips so her tongue can sweep in and steal what small fraction of sanity you had left. you couldn’t help it –– you actually moaned into her mouth as one of her hands slid down your body, gripping your waist just enough to pull you to her. both your hands come up and grab onto her shoulders so that you don’t sag to the ground from the pure intensity of it all. this is not the kiss you wanted…but you’ve pined after her for long enough that you forget to care. that’s a problem for future you. 

she pushed you down, separating her lips from yours so that she could position herself above you. you stretched your thighs to make room for her. you blink and clear you throat. “wait…wait –– ”

she immediately pulls away and stares at you. 

“this isn’t a good idea…you just got out of a relationship.”

“it wasn’t technically a relationship.”

paige mutters defensively and you have to physically restrain your eyes from rolling. “you know what i mean.”

“i want you.” she whispers, leaning back into you, hovering her lips over yours and it’s pure temptation. “i’ve wanted you ever since i moved in here…now i don’t have to feel guilty about it…”

“i know you want me too. i’ve seen how you stare at me…just let me have you.” she practically whimpers and you shudder. “it won’t change anything…”

you can’t help but think of all the reasons why saying yes would be a bad idea…you think of every bad reason and then some and ignore them all. “okay…” 

she smirked, wasting no time to rid you of your shirt, sucking in a deep breath when she sees you’re not wearing a bra. for a moment…she just stared. it made you feel awkward enough that you reached up to cover your face, she immediately pulled your hands away from your face, giving you a stern look.

“don’t do that.” she huffs. “lemme see you.”

when you nod, she cups your tits and kisses you again. when you tug at your pants, tossing them somewhere to the floor, she pulls back to stare at you again. 

“you’re so beautiful…” she whispers softly, she trails her hand down to your underwear, groaning at how soft and warm and wet you were. she reaches her hand inside and you gasp at the feeling of her fingers brushing against you. your whole body tenses.

she starts off so slow, so gentle. “harder. please.”

paige snickers at your politeness. “well, since you said please.” she teases and you roll your eyes.

“shut up––” your words are cut off by a moan when she applies more pressure to your clit. 

she laughs again and smirks triumphantly. “you were saying?”

“you’re awful…” you moan. “i...hate you.”

“yeah? your body’s telling me something different, baby.” baby. you moan again. “look at how wet you are, how your legs are shaking…the way you’re moaning for me. you do all this for someone you hate?”

you don’t respond. you can’t. cause she’s speeding up, increasing the pressure. it’s not enough too much. “don’t stop.” and you’re so embarrassed at how quickly she’s gonna get there but you can’t do anything except keep moaning as orgasm washes over you.

she rides it out for you, slowly pulling her hand out of your pants as you try and catch your breath. afterwards you reach for her shorts and shimmy her out of them. this time, she freezes. 

“you okay?” you pant, chest heaving from the afterglow. “is it too much?”

“no, no it’s not that it’s just –– i, uh…olivia didn’t really like to give, i guess?”

you look at her in disbelief. “wait…like, never?”

paige shakes her head and you bite you lip. “well that’s a fucking shame…you gonna let me rectify that?”

she swallows thickly and nods. you guide her to lay back, once her back is against the couch she lets you take off her underwear and she slowly spreads her legs. she’s so wet. it shocks you for a second. 

“don’t start.” she rolls her eyes when you smirk up at her after you get a good look at the evidence of her arousal. “do i need to remind you how –– ”

you lick a long stripe from her entrance and she immediately stops talking. “oh, so that’s how i shut you up…” you tease but she’s too distracted to respond.

you continue your movement, only stopping to suck her clit which causes her to shift away from your mouth on reflex but you’re persistent, keeping your mouth on her despite all your movements. 

she’s moaning, a mixture of your name and pleas and the sounds she makes are addicting. you don’t stop until she’s trembling, physically pulling you away. you lick your lips and she shuts her eyes, trying to catch her breath.

“come here…” paige whispers and you obey immediately, she kisses you –– sloppy and tired and then she wraps her arms around your frame.

she’s so warm and intoxicating, and you try not to let yourself think of the consequences this would have. Especially not when she falls asleep clinging onto you. you allow your eyes to shut with a silent, daunting acknowledgement…this would change everything.

#rock the boat! #paige bueckers x reader #im gonna hide now #thanks

[starrbright]

Haven

I had a really shit day yesterday, so.....this is just me venting.

It eats you. It makes your nerves creep, it twitches and itches. And you want to forget about it. You so badly want to forget about it that maybe you'd do anything to have it.

That includes begging your man.

You were already home, just burying yourself in some chores that needed to be done in your home, or distract yourself with other things, be that as it may as the hours passed by of him still not coming home yet—that gnawing feeling still stirs you. No matter how distracted in the moment you were, when it ends, it comes back again.

So what do you do when he finally comes home?

The second you heard the door opened, you laid down whatever that was you were doing, your feet so light as it stepped on the floor but one could not miss the heaviness you were keeping in just to keep it light.

He could never miss the suddenness in your gentleness despite it all. Easily seeing through you. He embraces you back, letting out a low chuckle as he does so, holding you tighter as you bury yourself in his arms. A shuddering breath you make as you tried to let go of what burdens you. He takes it willingly, wholly.

Finding yourselves in your bedroom then as he gets out of his work clothes, there you are on the edge of the bed."Do you wanna talk about it?" He asks simply.

You love him, you do. You trust him, with your whole life, yes. You rarely keep anything to each other, very much so....But this....is different.It's just a bad day, you tell yourself. Just one little thing that you wish to forget.

So, "No." Is what you answered. "I don't, I don't wanna talk about it, I don't wanna think about it." You begin, mind and mouth threatening to ramble. You don't stop it. Creeping thoughts finally being free from you. "I'm fine, I swear....I just—a heavy sigh that leaves you immediately—"I can't get it out my head, I feel so fucking terrible, I didn't do anything wrong or maybe I did—I know I did even though I did it for the right thing. I still feel bad and a completely stupid person"—your chest heaving at that point, your voice close to breaking. His gaze never left you, as he kneels in front of you, holding your hands. You break. "I just wanna forget, please...I don't wanna think about it anymore, I can't. Please, just help me, make me forget about it, please."

He knows when to not pry even if it was for the sake of comforting you, knows when to only listen and utter his gentle assurances, knows how much patience he should have.

So for now, that's what he does. He makes you forget.

Kisses that began all too gentle and slow. He knew how to work with your mind. Knew what to do to leave you breathless, that all what you'll be thinking of is how you'll be taking your breath back without panting like a puppy. He knew just the right amount of force of him grasping your throat that'll make you gasp. He knows that keeping up his agonizingly slow kisses will have you feel your cunt leaking in your panties, knows that what you'll be thinking of is to seek for some pressure down there, knows that a second later he'll be feeling your thighs twitch and you're gonna whimper and whine for more.

And he gives it, but not before he teases you, not before he makes you beg, not before he makes you call out his name over and over again and again while barely giving you what you need, not before he's made sure that all of you're thinking about now is him, just him and all of him. Because all the long hours of night, to dusk till dawn—what you will only know is him.

—may or may not delete this some time soon.

#starr's creations 🌟🍭 #sighhhhhhhh #angst and fluff #smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #mha x reader #mha smut #mha fluff #chubby!reader #chubby reader #anime x chubby reader

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,794 Words

Summary: The solar eclipse after Solar's death has an energy to it.

Warnings: Character Death, Caps, Cursing, Overworking, Self-Hatred (from Moon, of course), Sleep Deprivation, Blood (minor), Minor Injury, Ghost, Magic, Mind Meld, Soul Bond, Sharing A Body/Brain, Pain, Nausea, let me know if I should add anything else.

Binding And Bonding

Solar woke up in an abyss. Everything around him was darkness. He could see a vague ring of light around him, lighting up the rest of his surroundings decently well. He could vaguely hear something being said into the void around him in a vaguely familiar voice but he was knocked out before he could acknowledge the voice.

-Two And A Half Weeks Earlier-

"I don't wanna go…" Solar muttered, body deteriorating and slowly disintegrating as it collapsed to the floor like his dimension likely was. Moon was quick to grab him and try to keep him steady but it wasn't any use given he couldn't feel his legs anymore.

"You don't have to!" Moon insisted, holding Solar as close as he could, Solar feeling Moon's hands slip through him as he could feel himself fading into an abyss.

"Solar? SOLAR!" Solar could vaguely hear Moon screaming as he went into a void.

-A Week Later-

"Moon, you're pushing yourself. You aren't charging or resting." Eclipse finally broke and snapped at him.

"Maybe I would if I hadn't fucked everything up!" Moon screamed back at him, too stressed to not scream at the inconveniences anymore, too focused on getting Solar back now.

"Moon, you're at a max of five percent." Eclipse reminded him.

"I'll charge when my brother is back." Moon growled venomously, eyes turning to glare that Eclipse dare interrupt him but Eclipse had gotten used to Moon being like this fairly quickly. Eclipse knew Moon would inevitably run himself down and then Eclipse could carry Moon off to bed.

Thankfully, Eclipse got that opportunity sooner rather than later as Moon stumbled and his hand hit a tray, knocking it to the floor with Moon collapsing to the floor as well a few seconds later.

Eclipse went and finally was able to scoop the poor sap up and groan at how heavy Moon was, muttering complaints about how much Moon weighed as he kicked the door to Parts & Service open for him since he was busy carrying Moon.

"You." Ruin caught Eclipse's attention before Eclipse was able to leave.

"Yeah, what about me? Want me to come in there and kill you finally?" Eclipse asked.

"No, actually. I would like you to forget Protocol 87.775.2, actually." Ruin told him and Eclipse tilted his head in question, not really knowing what Ruin was talking about.

"Forget about what?" Eclipse asked.

"Exactly! Good job! Thank you! Be on your way now!" Ruin cheerily told him and Eclipse shook his head and carried Moon up to the daycare and through the portal to the house, sighing seeing Sun's cats practically waiting for Moon, though they hissed as if they hated him anyway, but Eclipse knew the little cretins were pretending they hated Moon.

Eclipse laid Moon on the couch and put a blanket over him for the cats to crawl on top of and purr now that they knew Moon was sleeping. Eclipse chuckled at the little gremlins. They sure loved their uncle, they were purring on his unconscious body.

Eclipse plugged Moon's charging wire into the wall outlet near the couch and left to go figure out what the hell Ruin was talking about, landing at the daycare computer inevitably. It seemed the computer knew everything anyway so he may as well try.

"Nice attempt, but you are not a member of the Celestial Family." The computer told him.

"Nice joke, I actually am. But I came for answers." Eclipse told the machine.

"Whyever would I give you answers?" The computer asked.

"Ruin mentioned a protocol in me, basically asking me to delete it but I don't know what he was talking about. I will let you scan my code if you look for Protocol 87.775.2." Eclipse told the computer.

"…I will agree to these conditions, only because it may serve well for Moon." The computer agreed. Eclipse plugged himself into the computer for it to scan him and just sat back waiting, all he could do was wait. The computer was doing two things at once and it was taking a while.

Eclipse ended up falling asleep for a bit in the computer chair while the computer did its thing. However, the computer also decided to be an alarm for Eclipse as it woke him up with a loud bussing noise through his circuits.

"HEY!" Eclipse jolted awake, pulling out the cord and thoroughly startled by the computer.

"Ah, good, awake. I have found Protocol 87.775.2 as well as scanned your code." The computer told him.

"And you wake me up like your about to try giving me a controlled shock?" Eclipse snapped.

"Yes, I found it amusing." The computer would've laughed if it could, Eclipse could tell.

"Fine, what is the protocol about?" Eclipse asked.

"This protocol entails a means to what Moon has been working on. A way to undo what has been done." Eclipse scoffed at that.

"So that's why he wanted me to get rid of it. I haven't been alone in a room so he couldn't give me an order to try to get me to delete it until today." Eclipse muttered.

"Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult as it works with the essence of an energy." The computer told him.

"Tell me what I have to do."

-One Week & Four Days Later-

Eclipse walked into the room Solar had died in. He had finally made good on getting everything else ready and Sun and Moon were out with Earth and Lunar, watching the solar eclipse on the roof of the PizzaPlex.

Eclipse had chalk, blood, and a dagger. He hated this, it felt so weird. It felt so awkward to probably be the first person Solar sees when he comes back.

"Solar?" Eclipse calls to whatever remained of Solar's energy, which he had attuned himself to over the last week and a half.

"Solar." Eclipse called to Solar again, sitting down in front of where Solar died. He could feel the energy around him swirling as though Solar was trying to tell him he was there still.

"There you are." Eclipse closed his eyes, holding the chalk and drew a circle of runes with his eyes closed, following the images of runes the protocol was feeding him on the back of his eyelids. The circle was around Eclipse himself and the spot Solar died in, interlocking them.

"Solar, I can feel you. God that sounds weird." Eclipse muttered the last half. The energy jolted like it was laughing at him. "Yeah, laugh it up, idiot. Sit with me." Eclipse sighed. He could vaguely see the outline of Solar's energy sit with him.

"Thank you." Eclipse muttered, knowing he had to thank Solar. He hated that he had to. Eclipse cringed as he poured the blood on the inner ring of the rune circle, watching outside as the sky began to go dark.

"I willingly open this connection for Solar." Eclipse stated as the protocol had, cutting open his right hand with the dagger in his left dominant hand. Eclipse could see that the whisp in his vision that was Solar's energy was interested.

"Hold my hand, Solar and only Solar." Eclipse told the energy. The energy seemed to hold his hand and Eclipse sighed at the feeling, relieved Solar was just listening to him, probably out of curiosity rather than genuine willingness.

"I connect what is mine to what is yours. Wire for wire, energy for energy. I share willingly what is mine with you." Eclipse spoke evenly, making sure to read word for word.

"This day is a connection." Eclipse felt the rune light up with light, blazing as the room went completely dark. "I bind us. Mine is yours. under this light, we become connected." Eclipse lost his breath after these words of the spell, making him choke a bit as he could feel Solar's energy binding to his own, coughing to get air as he could feel his mind breaking in half, body feeling aches and pains as Solar's energy was bonding to him.

Eclipse lurched forward, nauseous as he felt Solar's AI blooming into his head, using the broken-off half of Eclipse's mind, their mind? Eclipse didn't know but he was nauseous. Animatronics weren't supposed to get nauseous. He leaned with his hands on the ground, hearing someone screaming. Was that him? Was he screaming? He still had to say the final words and get Solar to say them too.

Eclipse reached his energy into his mind, making Solar take half control with him, each having control of one half of their? body. Eclipse fed the final words into their vision to make Solar say it with him. Once Solar nodded using their head Eclipse nodded back.

"We claim the energy of the solar eclipse given to us." Both of their voices echoed and the pitch-black void of the room glowed with a peace around them, the white ring around them calmly pulsing with their energies. Eclipse finally felt a peace now as he curled up on the ground, trembling with everything that had happened, too overwhelmed to move but he had to finish it. He had to finish this. He fed to Solar in their optics the final step and words.

Solar was the one to drag their body upright again. Eclipse was shivering, Solar was shivering. The room felt cold. Everything felt cold. Solar seemed to have more force than Eclipse, Solar was learning how to share their energy.

"We undo the damage that has been done through false trust." They made sure to echo each other and Eclipse felt a bloom in his chest of the energy they claimed from the solar eclipse above in the sky still, the ring around them, practically burst into a running visual of universes coming back into being, rebuilding themselves, lives being brought back immediately, everything blooming around them in the circle of light like flowers.

Eclipse gave a soft, exhausted chuckle seeing it and seeing the sky begin to get light again. Once the ring around them finished, the warm feeling slowly dissipated and Eclipse and Solar simply collapsed onto the ground, shaking and taking deep breaths.

"Thank you." Solar whispered.

"I know." Eclipse tried to laugh but all that came out was a wheeze.

"Are you okay?" Solar asked.

"I'm exhausted." Eclipse whispered back.

"Well, you gave up your magic to bring everything back, you're probably going to be exhausted for a while." Solar sighed.

"I expect Moon to thank me, you tell him that if you wake up first." Eclipse told Solar before letting himself ease into unconsciousness, giving Solar control for a brief moment before Solar fell asleep too from being brought back and losing a lot of energy himself.

#sun and moon show #sams #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #souls bind au #fnaf solar #fnaf moon #fnaf eclipse #fnaf ruin eclipse #snoweywrites #tw death mention #tw caps #tw cursing #tw self-hatred mention #tw sleep deprivation mention #tw blood mention #tw injury mention #tw ghost mention #tw pain mention #tw nausea mention

[lightseoul]

asymptōtos

synopsis. you needed him to meet you halfway. he couldn't.

cw. fem!reader, student-turned-worker!reader, busy prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~22 yrs old), established relationship, fluff, hurt/(may or may not have) comfort

word count. 5.8k words

The first time it happens, it leaves you more in a state of awe and adoration than worry and disappointment.

In your defense, you never thought you’d end up dating anyone in college, let alone during your very busy senior year marred by senioritis and thesis woes, but the universe decided it has other plans for you.

And so here you are, on your first date with the #2 Pro Hero, no less.

Of course, credit must be given where it is due. All of this wouldn’t have happened without the notorious meddler and your elementary best friend Ashido Mina, who took it upon herself to be Bakugou’s wing-woman during her housewarming party two weeks ago.

Not only did she serve as the pesky glue that resisted all of your attempts to stray away from Bakugou’s immediate circle, but she also later on confessed to having begged him not to delete your number that she not-so-sneakily saved in the man’s phone.

You got so embarrassed when you received your first text from him, imagining him being held at gunpoint by Mina just to send the darned message. You contemplated not replying to save the poor guy but decided against it. You’re glad you did, though, because he ended up surprising you with his responsiveness and consistency, resulting in daily texts until he finally asked you out on a date.

In a very roundabout way, too:

Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime.

Which brings you to the present, post-said dinner, seated on one of the benches in a park you’ve never heard of until now, admiring the view.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Your head whips to look at Bakugou, surprised at his sudden statement. Things have been silent since you left the sushi restaurant.

Well, until now.

“What—go out on a date?” you joke, meaning to lighten the mood.

At that, he visibly reddens, and looks away.

“Dumbass,” he mutters under his breath.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” you start, “I just thought—you being you—you’d have far more experience than I have.”

You can see him hesitating before looking you right in the eyes, “Wow.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “This is the first time someone’s referred to my being ‘me’ as a compliment.”

“Really?”

He merely gives you a firm nod. You can tell he’s trying to be cool about it, despite how much vulnerability this topic is requiring out of him.

You sigh, shaking your head, “Well, that’s bullshit.”

His voice is quiet when he replies. “...Ya think so?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him, “I mean, I like you. Being Bakugou Katsuki should make you proud.”

You don’t realize the carelessness of your comment until you see his eyes widen in shock. Yours follow suit upon realization, “I mean–”

“Yeah–”

“I didn’t–”

He interrupts, “Don’t worry. I get what ya mean.”

You could only stare at each other in astonishment until you look away in embarrassment.

Fuck.

You’re about to change the subject in the hopes of clearing the air and replacing the awkward silence that has befallen the two of you when you feel a feather of a touch graze your pinky.

You hold your breath in anticipation—willing your palm’s sweat glands to magically close in case Bakugou’s making a move to hold your hand—but that’s when it happens.

A piercing wail echoes throughout the park, and you both rip your hands away from each other.

Embarrassed (Bakugou), confused (you), and alarmed (both), you whip your heads towards the source, only to find a crying kid and who seems to be his father crouched down, frantically shushing him.

You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out what’s the matter from your spot on the bench.

“Kid’s dumb cat got stuck in that tree,” Bakugou points with his right hand, and sure enough, an orange Tabby cat is perched comfortably on the sakura tree near where the kid and his father are standing.

How he managed to figure out the problem in a millisecond is beyond you, but you couldn’t spare a single moment to marvel at his hero senses because Bakugou’s now standing up, palms cracking with mini-explosions.

He sighs heavily, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was annoyed.

Whatever scowl he might’ve had on his face is schooled into a neutral expression when he turns back to tell you to give him a second.

You nod, too stunned to speak, and the explosions on his palms begin to heighten in degree. He starts toward the direction of the civilians, before hesitating in his steps.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, back still turned towards you.

“...For the record,” he looks up to the cat still balanced expertly on the tree’s branches, possibly to avoid your gaze for what he’s about to say next.

“I like you, too.”

The second time it happens…is a bit different. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware this sort of thing was coming. On the contrary, you anticipated it, knowing full well what you were getting yourself into the moment you agreed to become Bakugou’s girlfriend.

But expecting and dress-rehearsing for pain doesn’t make it any less wounding once the actual thing does roll around.

It was your graduation day, and everything was going swimmingly. Bakugou got to officially introduce himself as your boyfriend to your parents while you were waiting for the ceremony to begin.

He didn’t want to admit it, but just by his body language alone, you could tell he was fucking nervous.

(Later on, during dinner, he’d whisper to you how he barely got any sleep the night before. Who was the one graduating between the two of you, again?)

Your parents’ reception of him was favorable, thanks to the briefer you gave them about his media presence not at all being an accurate depiction of the real thing. Your father tossed you a somewhat withering look after the encounter, but you chose to let it go. You weren’t going to let anyone rain on your parade today.

By all accounts, everything was going great. At the end of the program, everyone who you wanted to be present was there congratulating you, giving you bouquets of flowers, and taking pictures for remembrance’s sake.

After bidding goodbye to your college peers, you then headed to your favorite high-end restaurant to celebrate, where you sit now, listening in amusement as Bakugou gets grilled by your family and friends.

“So, Bakugou-san,” your mother continues, “what do you like about our Y/N?”

“Mom!”

Needless to say, you didn’t expect to be dragged into the grilling session.

Your mother only looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost your marbles. To your left, you can hear Bakugou snicker under his breath. You elbow his side in retaliation.

“What? You can’t expect me not to ask him that.”

“Yeah,” your cousin chimes in from the end of the elongated table, “we’re curious.”

You glare at her, “Shut it, C/N.”

“Y/N!,” your mother exclaims, “Don’t be rude.”

You could only pout in response while Bakugou clears his throat beside you, and you find yourself anticipating his response despite the circumstances.

“Well, she’s the most caring person I know,” he eyes you, and you can’t help but look away, feeling bashful under his gaze. “And is incredibly sharp, and she makes me feel understood and appreciated.”

Squeals and cheers erupt from the table, and you laugh in embarrassment at his words and everyone else’s reactions.

Bakugou pinches your thigh to catch your attention, “What?”

You snort, “You’re so cheesy.”

He smirks, “Says the one blushing.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s sporting redness on his cheeks the same way he’s saying you are. You can’t help but grin in response.

The noise dies down upon hearing your father clear his throat, “Bakugou-san, what do you do for a living, again?”

You internally roll your eyes. On the outside, though, you look at Bakugou, who straightens his posture at your father’s questioning.

“I’m a Pro Hero, sir.”

Your father hums in acknowledgment, “You’re Pro Hero…Dynamight?”

“Yes, sir.”

Everyone’s silent as you watch the tense conversation unfold before you.

“You face a lot of danger in your line of work, then?”

Bakugou remains unwavering as he goes through the kind of questioning that would otherwise annoy him, “Yes, sir. But we’ve undergone extensive training and immersions to be able to handle them accordingly.”

This time, your father only grunts in reply, returning to his plate of Grilled Akita Beef Sirloin as if he hadn’t just interrogated a guy. In the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou deflate, from relief or disappointment, you can’t tell.

“Anyway, Bakugou-san,” your mother interjects in an attempt to salvage the conversation, “what’s it like having a job of a Pro Hero? Nobody in our family took that career path, you see.”

“Well, I—”

He barely gets two words out when All Might’s voice comes booming throughout the entire restaurant, and you see Bakugou lose his cool and scramble for his phone to turn it off. Everyone’s eyes are bugged out, probably reeling from the fact that the #2 Pro Hero has such a corny ringtone.

“Sorry,” he blurts out. You chance a peek at the caller ID, which reads ‘Deku’, and you look up to see the frustration in Bakugou’s eyes.

Despite yourself, a sense of worry settles in your stomach. Midoriya never calls Bakugou unless it’s something important, and he’d already been informed about Bakugou being MIA for tonight. Surely he’s not calling for nothing…

“Who was that?” Your mother asks.

Bakugou presses the lock button on his phone and pockets it. “Sorry—it was just a colleague,” he frowns, “I don’t know why they’re contacting me, I already filed a leave for today.”

“Well, if it’s nothing important, I guess we–”

The ringtone, once again, floods the entire room, but this time you urge him to take it as he tosses you and everyone else an apologetic look.

“Sorry. Please excuse me.”

With that, he stands up and heads towards the corner of the restaurant, leaving you with the rest of your family and friends in silence.

“He seems nice,” your cousin offers, and you shoot them a look of gratitude.

“Are you sure about him, Y/N?” your other cousin asks, and you can’t help but freeze upon hearing the question. “Dating a Pro Hero doesn’t seem like easy business.”

“I bet it isn’t,” your father adds gruffly.

You’re about to spit out the best defense in history when Bakugou rushes toward your side, although he doesn’t sit back down. You brace yourself for what’s about to come next.

“That was Pro Hero Deku—there’s been a sighting in the Chofu district of this high-profile villain we’ve been tracking down for weeks,” he fixes his gaze onto you, “And they need both top heroes on the field, ASAP.”

You spring onto your feet with no hesitation, “Okay, but be careful, Katsuki.”

He nods, “Of course.”

With that, he faces everyone else and bows, “I apologize for having to leave early. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.”

He doesn’t wait for their responses, attention now shifted back to you.

“Congratulations again, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, forcing a smile on your face in the hopes of easing his worries. He bends down to kiss your forehead, shooting you an apologetic look before excusing himself for the last time and heading for the exit.

You hold onto that congenial smile plastered across your face as your eyes trace his disappearing figure. Once he’s gone, you go back to your seat and will yourself to meet the eyes of those around you.

You see the all-too-familiar worried look on your mother’s face, while your cousins and friends have their eyes down on their plates. Your father, on the other hand, has the same withering look he’s been wearing around you and Bakugou the entire day.

“I bet it isn’t,” your father mutters under his breath, but you heard him clearly.

The third time it happens, it hits closer to home than you expect it to.

After a flurry of important firsts with Bakugou, as well as major life changes that have gotten you breaking down more often than you’d like to admit, your birthday finally rolls around.

As you’ve gotten older, birthdays have indubitably become more mundane. Nevertheless, you went ahead and took the day off of your new job as recruitment personnel in Mirko’s agency, not to celebrate it in crazy ways but in the hopes of spending the entirety of it at home with Bakugou.

Ever since you landed your first job, time spent with your boyfriend has become more and more negligible, with schedule conflicts and inflexibilities of work commitments barring you from seeing each other.

Today was no different.

You wake up to the scent of Bakugou and his citrus body soap, who, as per your request, spent the night prior in your apartment. When you reach out to his side of the bed, though, you’re met with cold emptiness, and your heart sinks in disappointment upon the realization that he’d left.

You at least wanted a good morning kiss for your birthday.

Half awake and reaching blindly for your phone, you bring it up to eye level and check your messages.

It’s only 9:07 AM and your inbox is already flooded with greetings, but none of them is Bakugou’s. Instead, the one text message from him reads:

Hey. Sorry I had to leave early, got some agency-wide meeting Shitty-hair and I are presiding today or something. See you when I get home.

Despite yourself, you deflate at his lack of acknowledgment of your birthday. You shake your head, feeling the ugly emotion of hurt creeping up your spine. Instead, you choose to focus on the fact that he just called your apartment home. Besides, he’s probably just busy right now, you think to yourself. He’ll remember later.

He didn’t remember.

At least, as of 11:45 PM, he hasn’t.

You were still optimistic about things when the day started, going around the house—cleaning to soothe your racing mind, as well as opening the gifts your friends and family had sent to your apartment. By the time lunch rolled around, you had food delivered from your favorite restaurant, which you happily devoured while rewatching a comfort film.

Now and then, you’d thumb at your phone to check if Bakugou’s messaged you a greeting or an update, only to be met with messages and notifications that were the least of your concern.

You lost count of how many times you’ve sighed in discontent, restless for the moment he comes home and proves to you that he absolutely, positively, certainly, hasn’t forgotten.

But before you know it, it’s already 11:45 PM and he still hasn’t walked through your doorway—the last you’ve heard of him being the one text message he left you this morning.

You’re staring blankly at the dinner you’ve prepared for the two of you, devoid of any more expectations, when the door finally clicks open at 11:47 PM and he stumbles in, decked out in his hero costume and visibly exhausted.

“Oh, you’re still awake.”

He seems stunned to see you.

“Patrol went overtime,” he curtly explains as he toes off his boots, “I’m fucking beat.”

You only stare at him from your position on the couch, eyes following his figure as he marches towards the bedroom, possibly to wash off the day’s dirt and grime, barely sparing you a second glance.

“Hey, babe,” Bakugou calls out from the bedroom, who, from the sounds and smell of it, has already come out of the shower.

You hear a rustling noise, “What’s with all these fuckin’ wrappers? Is it your birthday or some shi–”

He falls silent as realization dawns on him, and you shut your eyes in dreadful anticipation. Earlier, when you were still fired up with the day’s anger, you thought you could handle this confrontation (if he ever realized what day it was), but you might’ve overestimated yourself.

Because now, you’re on the couch, hugging your knees and feeling completely pathetic as you hear his footsteps get closer and louder.

Suddenly, your face to face with Bakugou Katsuki, who’s kneeling to peer at you.

And he looks absolutely guilty.

“Y/N, I am so sorry—”

You shake your head. That shuts him up.

“I’m not in the mood for apologies, Katsuki,” you start, “I’m—I’m not mad at you for not having prepared or set aside anything.”

Swallowing the ball in your throat, you press on, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I understand.”

He eagerly nods. You sniff to help hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out, and Bakugou’s hand shoots up to cradle your face in response.

You let him.

“I’m just…” you look down, unable to meet his eye, “disappointed, Katsuki.”

You will yourself to look at him again, “I figured you’d at least remember what today was.”

“Fuck,” he warbles, and now you’re both crying, “I’m sorry, princess. I…”

He trails off, and some twisted part of you is thankful for it. You already know what was going to come out of his mouth—either their staff was a pain in the ass today and he had to step in, or a villain came around to stir shit up, resulting in overtime and him not having the time or energy for anything else.

This way, he could spare both of you the excuses that have seemed to etch themselves onto the tapestry that is your relationship.

“Let me make it up to you,” he says instead.

You don’t know how he plans to do that, but at this point, you’re too tired and hurt to ask or fight back. You gingerly nod your head in agreement.

And with that, he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom, all the while trailing soft, almost hesitant, kisses at the expanse of your neck.

He lays you down gently on the bed, and he climbs on top of you, hovering, until he has his forearms at both sides of your head.

You find yourself melting under the intensity of his loving, albeit guilty gaze.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Bakugou whispers, before diving in for a scalding kiss.

And make it up to you, he did.

The day after your birthday, he files for a leave in his agency, as well as cashes in Mirko’s favor from when he saved her ass in a past mission together, successfully giving you an extra paid leave for the day.

He ends up taking you out to a fancy soba restaurant recommended by Todoroki, and to an exhibit you’ve been wanting to see for the longest time, but haven’t gotten around to due to the ungodly wait (thanks to his Pro Hero card, though, you were able to get special passes).

And, it was at the end of that art exhibit when Bakugou pulls you into a private room and tells you he loves you for the first time.

Needless to say, you were over the moon.

But as a great author once said, one can’t undo the pain one caused. One can only atone for it.

Despite yourself, a seed of unease takes shelter and grows inside of you.

The fourth time it happens, it finally escalates into a full-blown fight.

It was a Saturday night, and you were enjoying a nice, stay-in dinner with Bakugou in his penthouse. By some miracle, he was able to take the night off despite the busyness that came with December and the looming holiday season.

“Stop staring at me,” he had said while expertly chopping the assortment of vegetables you bought fresh from the market earlier that day.

You grinned at him, “Not my fault you look sexy when you’re cooking.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted, but there was no bite to it. If you knew any better, you’d say he was blushing. “Now come help me with this.”

And that, you did. More like fumbled around his luxurious kitchen while he took the lead, but you tried your best. Which brings you to now: you, seated across from Bakugou at his corner coffee table, overlooking the city skyline.

“Eat,” he commands.

You happily indulge him.

Scooping a spoonful of the imoni stew he graciously prepared for you, you bring it to your mouth, all the while not breaking eye contact.

“Mmmm!” you exclaim the second the flavors explode in your mouth, “this is so good!”

He only smirks in response, but you can tell he’s pleased with himself with the way his chest puffs up with pride, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.”

You giggle at how his words juxtapose the way his tone sounds so smitten. Hastily chewing the cabbage, you regard him after you swallow, “Right, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

At that, he visibly stiffens, and your stomach drops, feeling a shot of dread replace the elation that’s been coursing through your blood ever since the night began.

“Yeah,” he starts, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” you mentally slap yourself at how nervous you sounded.

He looks you dead in the eye, “And I think it’s about time we move in together.”

You can’t believe your ears.

That’s not what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he places his utensils back on the table, “Think about it, we’ve been dating for almost a year now, and my place is closer to the agency and Mirko’s.”

He shrugs, “And we rarely see each other these days. I figured we can solve that by having you move in with me.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out stilted, “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to move in with you, Katsuki.” At that, he deflates in what you think is relief.

“But I have to ask—what prompted this? We’ve never talked about living together before.”

He looks down at his clenched fists on the table, and you can’t help how your body tenses in anticipation of the worst.

“This has nothing to do with asking you to move in with me,” he starts, “but there’s another thing I have to tell you.”

Your voice comes out meek when you reply, “What is it?”

“I got chosen to go on a very important solo mission.”

What’s the caveat? your mind immediately conjures the thought. Instead, you say, “Really? That’s awesome, Kats. Congratulations!”

He flashes you a grim smile, “Thanks.”

You force yourself to smile back, chuckling, “But?”

At your utterance of the three-letter word, he sighs, smile now erased from his face, “It’s overseas. Estimated to take about two months.”

You stay silent, just staring at him. He takes this as a sign to drop the last bomb.

“It starts next week.”

At that, you spring onto your feet, “Seriously? Do you even know what you’re gonna miss?”

He follows suit, “Of course! Shit—I’m not a fucking idiot,” he looks to the side in frustration, “I know, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just pass up.”

The snarky rebut of ‘It actually is’ dies in your throat when the fact of how much being the best matters to Bakugou crosses your mind.

“...But you promised me you’d spend the holidays with my family.” Your tone is quiet now, in stark contrast to earlier. You don’t even get started on the two-month absence.

He huffs, “I know. But I—”

“I’m sorry Katsuki,” you look down in shame, unwilling to look him in the eye, “and I know this is unfair of me, but I just can’t help but feel like you’re choosing your career over me.”

“But this mission could possibly make me number one,” he pleads, “Over shitty Deku, Y/N.”

You can practically hear the pain in his voice when he murmurs the next few words: “Number one.”

You shake your head in resignation—you know where this is going. You’ve gone through the motions of these arguments a hundred times before.

You’re fighting a losing battle.

“I know.”

At your quiet affirmation of his reasoning, Bakugou circles the table and wraps his arms around you, albeit cautiously. Tightening his hold on you, he whispers a soft thank you, and you feel your heart clenching in pain at how awkward and distant he feels despite being so close to you.

You have the urge to ask him if he only asked you to move in with him to soften the blow of what he was going to say next, but you hold your tongue. The last thing you want is for you to go on your separate ways for two months while in the middle of a fight.

You did end up going back to your hometown for the holidays, although with one less companion. Having to answer your family about Bakugou’s whereabouts was a huge pain, with you eventually resorting to terse responses the more times the question got reiterated.

Your family got so involved in the state of your relationship, with your father dropping I told you so’s ever so often that you finally decided you’ve had enough on the night of Christmas, and resolved to leave for Tokyō the next day.

You were planning to just spend the rest of the holidays in your apartment (you never got around to moving into Katsuki’s home), and wallow in your sadness over your relationship, but fortunately (or unfortunately), you ended up going out of your unit to spend New Year’s at Mina’s instead.

You note the profound role her persistence has played in your life.

Fast forward to now, with you having stepped out of the crowded party in her living room and onto the balcony, grateful for the cool, night breeze.

You hear the sliding door creak open behind you, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to see who it is.

Footsteps pitter-patter against the floor until you find Mina standing there at your right, uncharacteristically quiet.

You don’t want to hear any comforting words about Bakugou’s absence, so you speak ahead, “Thanks, Mina.”

Her head whips to look at you, and she smiles warmly, “For what?”

“For inviting me to celebrate here,” you will yourself to smile back, “I think I needed this.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes you, “Of course. I—uh,”

She pauses, and you look over at her expectantly, “You what?”

She slowly lets you go and fully turns towards you, the ledge supporting her body weight as she leans into it. A serious expression now adorns her face.

“Just that…I’m not the one you should be thanking.”

You mirror her stance, facing her and narrowing your eyes, “What do you mean?”

She sighs, “Don’t tell him, but Bakugou’s actually the one who told me to check in on you.”

You take a step back from her in surprise (or hurt, you’re not sure—the emotions you’ve been feeling these days have been nothing but complex), but Mina’s quick to step forward and grab your hands, holding it in hers.

“He sounded really sorry about having to leave you alone for the holidays, you know.”

You feel the pinprick of tears at Mina’s words, bringing you to look down at your feet as a means of hiding your sadness from your best friend, even if you know that barely conceals how you’re feeling.

“Come here,” she ushers you in for a gentle embrace.

And you do.

You both stand there for what feels like an eternity, with her rubbing small circles on your back and you crying silently on her shoulder.

“He really loves you, you know,” she whispers, after a long pause, “Eiji and I have talked about it with the rest of our friends—we all agree how it’s practically clear as day.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and allow yourself to bask in the gravity of Mina’s words.

“I know.”

The fifth time it happens, you astound yourself with your lack of resistance.

While Bakugou was out in the US for his solo mission, you decided it was the perfect time to put in the extra effort in your own work.

Whether it was to make something of yourself or to distract yourself from the loneliness that came with Bakugou’s absence, it didn’t matter. The bottom line was you finally had something to work towards, and it felt good.

You’ve been eyeing this promotion to be the Recruitment Lead in Mirko’s hero agency for over three months now, with the deliberation process taking longer than you’d like, only for it to end with you falling short of the other candidate.

You clench your fists at the thought of having received the news earlier that day.

Insecure and dismayed, you’ve been waiting for Bakugou to come home so you can tell him about it. It’s gonna have to be a long story, seeing as you haven’t even gotten around to telling him about wanting the promotion in the first place. In anticipation of the conversation, you stocked up on his favorite snacks and drinks.

Finally, at 8:54 PM, you hear the lock open with a click.

You rush to the entryway of your now-shared home, and flash him an inviting smile, “Welcome home.”

He’s in his regular clothes, having stripped himself of the grime and dirt back in the agency. Good, you think to yourself, you’ll have more time with him like this.

You’re about to ask him if he’s eaten dinner and if he can spend the night talking when he practically, and unceremoniously, collapses on top of you.

You’re agile enough with your arms shooting up to help carry his body weight, clutching his waist and arm to keep you both steady.

“Katsuki?” you squeak.

He only burrows his nose in your neck and huffs, “I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Let’s go to bed, please?”

You can’t help but ache at the sight and sound of you Katsuki beaten to exhaustion like this. So, like the good partner that you are, you nod in affirmation and assist him as you walk to the bedroom, and help him out of his clothes until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

Now lying on the bed and under the covers, he holds his arm out open for you.

His voice is low and rough: “C’mere.”

And you do.

You climb into bed next to him, settling into his side as a muscled arm drapes across your waist.

You look up at his face, and a part of you hopes his eyes are still open and twinkling with invitation.

For conversation. For intimacy.

For anything.

But you’re only met with the peaceful, sleeping face of your lover.

That was the fifth time it happened.

And the last.

“Is there any reason you dragged me out of my pajamas to come here at–,” he checks his phone, “8:14 PM?”

You ignore Bakugou’s incredulous question, choosing instead to look around the view of the park from the bench where you’re both seated.

You glance at him, all in his bedhead and glasses-wearing glory. He had a long day, as per usual, having arrived home thirty minutes after 7 PM, but you had to have this conversation sooner than later.

“You seriously don’t remember this place?”

“‘Course I do,” he says in a heartbeat. “This is where I took you out on your best first fucking date ever.”

You snort, “That was yours.”

He sits up and scowls at you, offended, “Fuck that shit. That was both of ours.”

You laugh, unable to tease him any longer, “It was. You even flexed your hero skills to me and all.”

He slinks back into the bench, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Damn straight.”

You roll your eyes, “Show off.”

He snickers, “Simp.”

You shake your head, trying to fight off the grin that’s spreading across your face. Now was not the time for flirty banter. Not with what you’re about to tell him…

“But really, though,” Bakugou pipes up after a few minutes of silence, “what’s up?”

You can tell he’s trying to sound more playful than he usually does. Still, there’s an air of tense anticipation surrounding the both of you, and it’s been there since you asked two weeks ago if he could clear out tonight’s schedule, as you had something important to say.

Here goes nothing.

You exhale, albeit quite shakily, and close your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore, Katsuki. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes flutter open to see him holding his breath, visibly on guard.

Bakugou’s smart. You’re sure he knows what you’re talking about, if not because of his intelligence but of the way he gulps nervously, no matter how imperceptible that was.

But he still retorts with, “You can’t do what anymore?”

You gesture vaguely at the distance between the two of you. That’s only been growing in the past few months.

“This. Us.”

You heave in a deep, shaky breath, refusing to look at him. He takes your hand into his.

“I can’t bear it anymore. Forcing you to choose between your hero work and me.”

You chance a glance at your Katsuki, and he’s staring at you, eyes brimming with tears and with such intensity that knocks your breath away.

Still, you march on. You have to get this out of your system before you chicken out.

“It hurts me to make you choose. Especially knowing how much you love what you do and how much you’re needed by other people.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but you still end up choking, “But I need you, too, Kats.”

“And, I can’t keep on getting disappointed and hurt like this every time I don’t get chosen.”

At that, you finally let the tears you’ve been holding onto fall down your cheeks, “It’s all too much.”

A part of you still hoped he’d hop onto his feet in protest and beg for you to stay with him and proclaim how he’ll try harder, despite knowing, more or less, that no objections will pour out of his mouth.

True enough, Bakugou remains silent, like the tears that quietly drip down onto his clenched fists.

Because deep down, he knew.

He knew, from the very beginning.

Before he even decided to keep your number. Before he plucked up the courage to send you that first text. Before he sucked it up and asked you out on that first date.

He knew—that no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t meet you halfway.

tagging. @katsukis1wife

extra credits. katsuki's first date line (tweet). quote about atonement.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugo x reader #HSJAHSJAHSAJ i hope yall like this T____T #i wrote this in two days and significantly hurt myself in the process #i love and hate angst

[boyfhee]

⌕ TAKE TWO ━━ 24 : an odd solace

PRECIS. while riki constantly assured you that him being an idol under a different label wouldn't be an issue in your relationship, you start getting second thoughts when fans start shipping him with his co-mc at music bank.

w : angst this is the last time . trust . ( 1.6k )

n : written part below the screenshots ! happy reading ppl

you’re beginning to invent things lately. adding and subtracting from your memory, remembering things the way they should be, or rather, in a way you want to remember them. all the times you’ve seen riki and miya together is a blur, all the moments with jungwon are getting clear, all the moments with riki; they’re there, coming and going like random influx and efflux of ions, at random times of the day. processing things that way would be better, or so you thought. after all, they’re your memories, and you should be allowed to view them however you wish, deleting the ones you despise, but only if memories could be deleted.  

riki’s question still circles your mind, jogging around day and night— it has been three days since. saying you didn’t have an answer would be the half truth, claiming to have one would be half lie. in the end, you’re once again sitting with your hands full of confusion and what ifs. it’s one of the reasons why you think leaving for japan would be better.  

“i’m sorry for that day,” you whisper slowly, staring at your palms, hoping he could hear you. “i shouldn’t have done that,”

“it’s fine,” coming to the airport with jungwon wasn’t what you planned, but it happened anyway. in fact, he came much later, thirty-minutes or so, and now you both are waiting for you to leave. you feel the hesitation lingering around, the feeling of having so many questions but getting to ask none. been there, done that, you wish you could tell him that with a laugh, without feeling ashamed. 

“are you mad?” but you’re doing fine, actually. talking with riki, going through confrontations, you think you’re ready for a little more blame and regrets if jungwon directs them to you. maybe, it’s because of the acceptance of the fact that you deserve it, or perhaps you’ve just grown immune to feeling that over the past few weeks. 

“i don’t know,” he sighs, lips pressing into a thin line. one may think he’s talking to himself, but the next second, jungwon looked at you with an awkward smile. “well, it is my fault as well because i should’ve stepped back instead of giving in,” 

you almost forgot how pretty he looks when he smiles.

“still, i was the one who kissed you first,” for some reason, talking about it doesn’t feel awkward anymore. instead, it’s scary. are you touching a critical topic? maybe, and maybe, jungwon doesn’t want to talk about it but you do, because you have a lot to say. “you’re not a rebound. i used you and the feelings you have for me to make myself feel better without thinking about you even once, it was stupid. i’m not going to ask you for forgiveness,” but he will still forgive you. he’s too good, so much that he ends up apologising even if it’s not his fault. he’s too good for you. “all i want is for you to look after yourself a little. live for yourself, find someone who loves you the way you love them. you deserve better,”

and perhaps, you’re the one who took his smile away, even if it was for a little while. 

suddenly, you realise you never responded to his confession, not like it’s necessary. he knows the answer already, knew it the day he confessed. 

“is that why you’re leaving? because you think you don’t deserve me?” 

“i’m leaving because i need a break from all this. i need time to figure out my own thoughts. moreover, i’m going to be all over the news for at least a few weeks so, it’s better for me to fly back to japan and stay low for a while,” you explain with a nod, hoping that this time, you made the right decision. “but, yes, i don’t think i deserve you. you’re way too good, jungwon”  

you’re learning to speak his name with gratitude. jungwon has been there for you for as long as your memory takes you back. sometimes, it doesn’t feel like he has known you only for a little over a year. he feels too familiar, like someone you’ve known for centuries and far beyond. maybe that’s why he always felt so welcoming. you don’t think you’ve ever felt awkwardness with jungwon— apart from when you kissed him, of course. the second you saw jungwon, you found a friend in him, best friend, even, and riki, you and him, were inseparable. 

you wonder if things would’ve been the same if none of this ever happened.   

“make sure you tell riki’s mother about everything he did,” he snickers in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, a much needed attempt, might you add. you almost ran out of things to say. 

“hey, i am no better so i don’t get to complain,” 

“that’s right. you are heartless,” it’s a joke, you know, but a look into his eyes, and you see a hint of genuinity. honestly, even if he called you heartless and selfish, you wouldn’t mind. it’s the truth, you’ll have to accept it one day or another. the only point of this trip to japan is to accept your flaws and weaknesses and work on them so that you can return as a better person to the people you adore.

you’ve dealt with loss, walked side by side with your hands in his. you’ve wept on his shoulder, you’ve hugged him in sleep, you’ve been intimate with loss. you’ve been trying to come to terms with loss ever since you started seeing riki drifting away from you, ever since you realised your mistake and started seeing less of jungwon in your life. you don’t think you can ever experience love without loss, because you’re sitting here overflowing with love and no one to give it to. you’re sitting with your hands empty because of what you’ve lost, and you’re sitting so close to one of the few things you’ve lost that you’d kill to get back, but alas, you’ve already lost him. 

“do you really have to go?” he finally says the words he has been keeping in for hours. the truth is— jungwon hates you. you’re a coward. you had chances to fix things but you let your insecurities make decisions for you. jungwon thinks he’s going to hate you even more if you leave because he thinks the three of you can solve things out without having to create distances in between. distances never have resulted in anything good, you and riki are a good example. his heart knows what you’re doing is right, but his soul tells him otherwise. 

“it’s for the three of us,” and you give the same old response. you’ve said it so many times, it doesn’t feel like an explanation anymore. “we need to take some time for ourselves, away from each other,” 

the more you say it, the more it begins to sound like an excuse. 

jungwon chuckles in return. “okay, so how do i stay away from riki?” 

“uh, maybe you two can utilise this time to make amends,” okay, you do feel bad for being the reason why they aren’t as close as they used to be. riki and jungwon, the inseparable duo, the best friends who were attached to the hip all the time, they’re no longer the way they used to be and somewhere, you know you are to be blamed. not as long, definitely, because riki is equally responsible, perhaps jungwon too. you won’t make assumptions, you’ve never been good at those.

the boarding announcement goes off, you didn’t realise it’s time to bid goodbyes already. a part of you wishes the moment could last longer. you’ve missed jungwon, you’ve missed talking to him, you’ve missed hearing his voice. you’ve missed him so much over a weak, his absence didn’t miss you until now, and now that you’re leaving, you wish you could live this moment a little bit longer. 

you smile at him, getting your passport out of your clutch. “okay, it’s time now,” 

“it is,” and much to your pleasure, he smiles back. 

“see you soon,” another announcement goes off, another reminder that it’s time to let go. “don’t forget me,”

“i wish i could,” just yesterday, it felt like you both were losing track of nights, for you both were busy living in the moment. you remember staying up on nights gushing to him about things you liked and didn’t as you fought off sleep for another hit— another line of conversation. you’d tell him all the embarrassing moments from riki’s childhood, he’d send you pictures of your boyfriend that would add onto that list. but now you both are here, standing in front of each other with minds still living in the past. you’re walking away and it feels like a final goodbye. 

“jungwon,” you call his name, it feels like music to his ears. “thank you for falling for me,” 

and jungwon is back at his dorm, your words ringing in his ears over and over again. you’re probably listening to your favourite songs, or perhaps, you’ve already fallen asleep. he knows how sleepy you get on planes, riki didn’t miss anything when jungwon told him he wanted to get to know you better the first time you two met. jake and heeseung are playing video games on television but the living room feels oddly quiet. jungwon feels like his ears have gone numb, he’s walking towards riki’s room. 

a small conversation is shared in fluttering gazes, jungwon sits next to the younger boy. a few pats on the back— an attempt at consolation, an odd solace. both had their chances with love, both are heartbroken. jungwon is glad to have riki now that you’ve left.

and that makes the two of them.   

PREV | NEXT | MASTERLIST

#—approved. #@ : tt #enhypen imagines #riki smau #ni-ki smau #enhypen smau #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen reactions #riki imagines #ni-ki imagines #riki x reader #riki x you #riki scenarios #riki reactions #riki fanfic #ni-ki fanfic #enhypen fanfic #enhypen au #enhypen social media au #enhypen x reader #ni-ki au #riki fluff #riki angst

[jqhotchner]

love of my life

two

harry got the text the moment he finished up filming for the day. he couldn’t believe someone was following them. how dare they invade their privacy like that?

he was pissed. no he was livid! it’s one thing to mess with him. it’s another to mess with his wife, his family!

harry called jeff immediately. he needs to know who was responsible. when jeff finally answered the phone harry completely lost it. jeff knew he wasn’t mad at him.

jeff let him know that they’re getting to the bottom of it and whoever is responsible will be sued as soon as possible.

but harry needed to know what to do from here on out. jeff told him to lay low until the grammy’s. harry just sighed before ending the call.

he turned and was startled by olivia. harry gives her the best smile he could due to the circumstances. olivia was cool. but she was very flirty and touchy with the male cast.

she didn’t know he was married. in fact no one here knew he was married. you and harry only told people who needed to know. and that was mostly his team and a few of his friends he had.

he didn’t know anyone here really, so no one needed to know about you. especially now that you have maybelle.

“everything okay, harry?”

harry nods. “they’re great! did you need anything else from me?”

olivia shakes her head.

“if you don’t mind i have to head home.”

“wait! a few of us are going out. why don’t you join us?”

harry shakes his head politely declining. he needed to get home to you and make sure you and may are okay. he heads to his trailer, grabs his things, and drives home.

when harry gets home he hears you on the phone. he heard your moms voice on the other line and knew you were stressing.

when he makes himself known you tell your mom you’d call her later. harry grabs your hand and kisses the back of it.

“it’s gonna be okay, baby. i promise that we will catch this stupid ass pap and sue him for all he worth.”

you sniffle, burying your head into his chest as he kisses the top of your head.

“im more worried about maybelle. she’s just a baby harry. she doesn’t deserve to be exploited.”

“i know baby. i promise you no matter what may will be protected. they can’t do shit because may’s a minor.”

“i heard some of your fans already found my instagram. it’s private but im still worried. what if someone hacks it? there are some photos of may. should i delete them just in case?”

harry hums. “i think you should, babe. just to be safe.”

you nod. grabbing your phone and opening your instagram. deleting the four photos of your daughter you close the app and plop down on the couch.

the aftermath of everything was hectic. so many rumors were going around. especially since they found your instagram.

they called you a cheater because of your current bio. they called you a slut, whore, bitch. any name in the book. you tried not to let the comments get to you, you tried to keep up the charade, but harry could see right through it.

he honestly had enough. you deserved to get out of this house and enjoy yourself. maybe call up a few girlfriends so you could get your mind off of everything.

when he brought up the idea you shook your head. not wanting to risk being caught again. you’d rather suffer inside your own home.

but your husband wasn’t having it. he called up a few of your friends and told them to come over to get you ready for a girls night.

reluctantly you went. and you had an amazing night. going to the spa, going shopping, buying cute little clothes for maybelle. you felt happier. obviously still not feeling too great.

you kept looking over your shoulders to make sure no one was following you. but you still felt a bit more relaxed.

unfortunately that didn’t last when you got home. you saw jeffs car parked and knew this couldn’t be good news.

when you got into the house your suspicion were confirmed. harry was yelling loudly. you frowned even more when you saw olivia wilde was standing right beside jeff with a small smile on her face.

“i said no, jeff!”

“come on harry. this will be good for you. you could still keep your life a secret from the world and just state she’s a family friend who was struggling with something. then just show up with olivia here and there and no one will have to know about yn or may.”

harry shakes his head angrily. he couldn’t even believe what jeff was suggesting. he’s never been one to lie to his fans. not like this anyway! but he knew he wanted to keep the both you and maybelle safe.

he just knew this would hurt you. and that’s the last thing he wanted to do.

“we can figure something else out, jeff. i can’t put yn through that. she doesn’t deserve—”

“it’s okay, harry. i agree with jeff.” you made yourself known. everyone heads turned to you.

“baby, you don’t have to do this. i know you’ll be very uncomfortable.”

“im a grown up. i could handle it. its for may. we have to keep her out of the spotlight for as long as we can.”

harry sighs as he grabs his wife’s hand. he kisses the back of it before looking at jeff and olivia.

“fine! but two years, two years and that’s it. im not gonna hurt my wife for longer than that. do you both understand?”

they nod. jeff grabs the paper work and has both harry and olivia sign the contract. when everything was finished he holds you as jeff and olivia leave.

“you sure about this baby?”

you hum into his chest. “it’s just two years, yeah? and then we can go back to just being us. you, me, and may.”

“maybe another baby, huh?” you could practically hear the smirk. giggling into his chest you look up at your husband as he kisses you gently

god, seeing harry pictures at jeffs wedding made you a tiny bit jealous. he was gorgeous! so was olivia. seeing them holding hands though triggered you a bit.

you knew it was all to keep your identity a secret. but, damn! did you want to be the one holding his hand at that very moment.

sometimes you wondered if keeping your marriage a secret was worth it. you wished you could be the one holding his hand. but you also loved that you were able to hide your relationship this long.

you weren’t ashamed of being harry’s wife. your husband was hot! you could never be ashamed of harry. but you liked it just being you and him. you and harry in your little bubble who created your own beautiful daughter.

“babe?”

lost in your train of thought you didn’t even realize harry had just got out of the shower. a towel wrapped around his waist. you smiled at him lovingly.

“you okay, darling?”

you hum, lifting yourself up as you walked over to your husband and wrap her arms around him. kissing him passionately.

harry hums through the kiss. he pulls away and smirks. “what’s gotten into you?”

“nothing! just love you so much.”

harry caresses your cheek. he looks deep into your eyes. staring at you like you were the only woman to exist. and to him you were. you meant absolutely everything to him and he’d tell you time and time again.

“i love you too.”

today had been one whole year since your daughter was born. you couldn’t believe that she had been here a whole year.

you and harry planned a big party! you knew she didn’t know what was going on but she loved the attention. all of your friends and family surrounded her and showered her in kisses.

but she was one hundred percent a daddy’s girl. as soon as harry would pick her up and kiss her cheek she’s screamed happily.

her gummy smile was so adorable. maybelle made your heart sore every single time she smiled. she was definitely a happy baby!

“dada.”

harry chuckles as he kisses her forehead. “how’s my birthday girl, huh?”

“dada, cake!?”

“oh? my girl wants another piece of cake huh? gotta ask mama.”

“mama, cake?”

you giggle. “i guess. but only a small piece baby. don’t want you getting a tummy ache, yeah?”

you cut a small piece of cake. harry sits her down as you set the plate next to her. you feed her as she babbles.

you hum, pretending to understand every word she’s saying. everyone takes pictures of her. she smiles as she notices the flashes.

a few hours later everyone leaves while you and harry clean up.

“alright baby. you ready for bath time?”

“Bubbles?”

“yes, baby. bubbles.”

you head upstairs to start maybelle’s bath. harry ends up getting a phone call from olivia. he sighs.

it’s been eight months of being with olivia. she seems to always need something from harry. it was frustrating the both of you. it was almost like she didn’t understand this was all just to keep his family safe and private.

harry ignores her call, he heads upstairs to your shared bedroom, and hears his daughter babble as she splashes water.

harry laughs as he walks into the bathroom. “how are my three favorite girls doing?” harry asked as he looks at his daughter, bends down, and kisses your bump.

he was so excited to be having another baby with you. always wanting a big family.

“dada!”

“we’re great.”

and you were. you were very great. happy everything seemed to be in place despite everything you felt at peace.

if anyone wants to be added to the taglist just let me know! i hope you enjoyed. more to come

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x black!reader #harry styles x you #harry smut #harry styles fake ig #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles #jqhotchner #love of my life jq

[changingplumbob]

Chopra Household: Chapter 6, Part 10

I almost lost my mind but I took some time off to build so I didn't!

If Viola is attempting to say something it will be in brackets, otherwise you can assume it's just trying out sounds Mercedes has a speech delay and may get words wrong, correct wording will be in brackets if that is the case Savannah aka Honeybee Mercedes aka Little Ladybug Viola aka Green Bean

With everyone going through a tough time (especially the watcher) nana Lavina is having a stay over to help out.

Rahul: Thanks for coming mum

Lavina: Of course dear, I’m happy to

Cassandra: Okay Viola, nana is here. Do you think we can show her a crawl huh? Crawl to mama

The pair practice and after a while we get milestone lights!

Lavina: Oh how wonderful! Although she does look glum

Viola is up and crawling but is very pouty about it.

Rahul: Shucks, she probably needs more antibiotics

Lavina: Don’t worry, I’ll grab them for you

Lavina: My goodness what did I nearly trip on

Rahul: It’s a robot vacuum

Cassandra: We can set it to auto clean and it should take care of any dust bunnies

Lavina stomps off to the medicine cabinet grumbling about technology these days. After Viola has her medicine and is fed Cassandra gets her to bed. Both of them need sleep, here’s hoping they can get some.

Cluckton: *crows* hear ye, hear ye! We’ve survived a bad mod storm that involved sims being sick and unable to go to the doctor! Let us all thank the watcher for getting help and giving up on that module without deleting us. We came so close to DOOM!

Mercedes: Is Cluckton still crowing

Savannah: Maybe. He probably just wants to make sure we can hear him all the way over here

Cassandra: Good morning green bean! Isn’t it so much better without those nasty bugs? You look better

Viola: se na ma do (so do you mama)

Cassandra: I just finished pumping so this bottle is nice and fresh for my little guzzler

Viola tucks into the bottle with gusto, promptly finishing it. Cassandra takes her over to the changing table for a fresh nappy when Mercedes comes and sits on the rocking chair.

Mercedes: Morning mama. Did papa tell you they say I’m gifted

Cassandra: he did! But gifted or not you are my daughter and I love you for more than your brain, okay

Mercedes: Okay mama. Can you come to word class with me today? Papa can go with Savannah instead

Cassandra: If you'd like me there I’d love to

Savannah: And a drop here, and a drop there, and-

Rahul: SAVANNAH

Savannah: Huh what?

Rahul: Why did you dump this paint on the floor

Savannah: It wasn’t me!

Rahul: I SAW you Savannah, don’t start lying. No tv for a day and you will clean this up, right now!

Savannah: But… how will I get my fun need up without tv

Rahul: You should have thought of that before you made a mess. Now your mama and I are swapping after school duties and I expect you on your best behaviour for OT

Savannah: *sighs* yes papa

Cassandra streams her guitar practice this morning. Nursing has affected how much time she’s been able to spend increasing her skills and fame. While she strums the yard animals again inspect Viola. Seven in particular finds the infant suspicious. After playing with her rattle Viola sets off crawling around, the feel of grass under her fingers is a lot of fun.

Even though the yard is sheltered, with the rain Cassandra doesn’t like Viola spending too much time outside in case she gets windchill. Back inside it’s time for more standing practice. After a series of tries together Viola gurgles she wants to try by herself so Cassandra steps back and Viola looks up at the couch. She stretches her arms and up she goes! Cassandra is so excited she takes a small video to show Rahul in case Viola doesn’t feel like showing off later.

Lavina: Look at her go! She’s a star

Cassandra: Could you get her down for a nap? I have to go tell Rahul

Lavina: Oh course dear

…

Cassandra: Then she just pulled herself up

Rahul: That’s wonderful

Cassandra: It has got me thinking… she’s growing up…

Rahul: And the nursery will be empty… can’t have that…

Cassandra: shall we go try then?

Rahul: Don’t have to ask me twice

So the two head to their room and spend time… flipping pillows until their daughters are ready for after school activities.

Word class and OT went well, Cassandra does have to rush off to work pretty soon afterwards though. The girls head inside to do their homework while Rahul cooks.

Lavina: What is word class when it’s at home

Mercedes: Stuff. Helping stuff

Lavina: And this is meant to make you better at talking is it? Doesn’t seem to be making much difference so far

Rahul: Mum! Be nice, let's not teach them to be rude

Lavina: I want my granddaughters to succeed, is that rude? Now Savannah, are you sure that’s the right way to hold your pencil?

Savannah: *sighs dramatically*

Rahul: Mum! Don’t fuss. They’ve both done well today

Savannah: If I’ve done well... can I watch TV?

Rahul: No. I said no TV for a day and I meant it

Mercedes: But Savannah did good

Rahul: Yes but she still did bad this morning

Mercedes: She cleaned it

Rahul: After being caught and trying to lie about it

Lavina: And she should consider herself lucky. Any time your papa made a mess it was no TV for a week. He learned not to and so will your sister

Savannah: *fumes in silence*

Rahul: I’m sorry if you are upset Honeybee but your punishment was for earlier. Consequences are tied to our actions. When you’re grown you’ll understand

Mercedes: I thought we were grown

Rahul: Not yet little ladybug. Think of it this way Savannah… If I sheared some wool off Seven and cut her by accident, I could bottle feed her all I like but it wouldn’t change that I cut her. There’s only 12 hours left and you’ll be asleep for most of it

Savannah: Oh... I forgot about sleep

Mercedes: I guess I can’t watch TV either

Lavina: Why not?

Mercedes: Sol.. solid… together. We stick together (solidarity)

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0902 #Cassandra Chopra #RahulChopra #SavannahChopra #MercedesChopra #ViolaChopra

[eros-ghoulette]

Annoying

Dew is overthinking.

Characters: Dewdrop, Aether, Swiss Word count: 481

Dewdrop walked in the kitchen early in the morning. It was unusual for him, waking up before even Swiss did. He had planned to go back to sleep after taking a piss, but he just could not. His eyes had been closed for over an hour, when he decided he should get up; it was useless to lay in bed.

Yesterday had been fun, the pack had watched a film together before bed. Copia took Aether with him on some trip in Denmark, and he would not be back in the next three days, so Dew was left to cuddle with Swiss. He insisted on Swiss being not even half as cuddly as the quint, but everyone knew the smaller ghoul was lying. Dew was dozing off a few times, his limps stretched out on one of the sofas, his head nuzzles on Swiss´ tummy, when his phone indicated an incoming message. The fireghoul grabbed it immediately, a grin forming on his face, when he saw who it was from; he had waited the whole day for Aether to finally message him. 

“Aeth?”, Swiss asked, mumbling. He would never admit it, but he had been sleeping for the past twenty minutes or something, but Dewdrops motions woke him up.

“Yes”, came back the answer.

He had chatted with Aether for some time, just wanting to tell him about his day and that Omega needed to help him with some quintessence after practising guitar for too long. His left hand would not stop trembling and aching, something that sometimes happened since the element change. Aether answered to everything. The quint and Copia had taken the day off and had gone through some shops in Copenhagen, enjoying the spring weather.

Dew made himself a coffee and looked at his phone. There was this strange feeling in his gut, something that made his heart beat faster and his jaw clench. His messages had been long, every single one, and Dew regretted it. The thought that he may have annoyed Aether with his rambling… It made him want to delete the whole thing and just pretend it never existed, even though he had been so happy last night. Was he bothering the other with his whining about his pain and problems? Aether told him a thousand times before that he was not, that it was important to talk about such things. But what if the quint was lying? What if he was annoyed with him? Aether had messaged him first, but maybe he just wanted to tell him that he missed him and not to listen to all the rambling Dew had replied with.

His phone vibrated on the counter and a new message popped up:

Copia just told me that I will have the afternoon off today :) Can I call you later? 

Dewdrop let out a relieved sigh and felt his lips curl upwards.

__________________________

I am projecting again, even though i feel really good today. And i was bored, so my brain told me to write something and this is what i came up with 🤷‍♀️

#dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ficlet #eros writing

[iprobablyshipit91]

Twenty Minutes or Less

Genre: fluff / smut

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 900

Warnings: mostly just smut and a few swears! Please only read if you’re of age and comfortable.

I read a similar idea to this once for another fandom that has since been deleted. It was one of my fav drabbles and always makes me sad it’s gone. I know I won’t do it justice but it felt appropriate for Dean and I was in the mood to write something almost Valentine-y so I thought I’d give it a shot. Not exactly romantic but I hope you enjoy anyway!

SPN Masterlist

You flop on to the couch with a sigh and you just feel numb. It says a lot, you think ruefully, that you aren’t particularly sad about the fact your boyfriend of just over a year has dumped you the day before Valentine’s. You’re more annoyed about the fact you got him a fucking amazing present that cost more than you wanted to pay but it was too perfect to pass up. And if you’re truly being honest with yourself you’re also annoyed that he beat you to something that had been niggling in the back of your mind lately anyway.

A groan leaves you involuntary as you press your hands over your eyes hard. You feel like such a fool.

Before you can stew too long, you hear keys jingle in the door followed by a loud slam and heavy footfalls down the small hallway.

“I have the pizza, a fuck ton of chocolate and plenty of alcohol as requested. Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong, Sweetheart?” Deans gravelly voice reaches your ears before he finally appears, dumping his bags on the kitchen counter along with his keys and making his way around to you. “Why the S.O.S?”

Dean Winchester was a lot of things; handsome, protective and loyal to a fault to those lucky few he considered family and you found yourself firmly in that category. You’d been best friends as teens and when you’d both found yourself looking for a roommate a few years ago it made logical sense for you to move in together. He was a dream to live with too; just tidy enough to not be annoying, cooking plenty of mouthwatering meals for the two of you and always ready with the junk food and alcohol on occasions such as this.

And maybe, just maybe, you had a teeny tiny crush on him. Who wouldn’t? The man looked like a Greek god. The point was it had been years now and nothing had ever happened between you, so you were pretty sure it never would.

“Mick dumped me,” you sigh heavily, seeing the look of annoyance twitch across Deans face at the mention of your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. They had never got on somehow.

Within minutes the little coffee table is full of your evening feast and you have your legs propped up on Deans lap as he listens to you lament about the last few hours while munching your way through the food.

Three beers later and you accidentally reveal to him that you have never actually had an orgasm.

Dean nearly chokes on his beer at that and you find your cheeks getting hot, wishing you could take the words back immediately.

To his credit, Dean recovers quickly, placing the bottle aside and gently questioning you until you confess that your now ex-boyfriend has never gotten you there. And, since you'd never been able to get yourself there either, you were starting to think that there was something wrong with you.

"First of all,” Dean says with a grin, his emerald eyes glinting mischievously "There's nothing wrong with you. Second of all, stop saying there like it's a geographical location."

"Yeah well it may as well be," you snap back, still feeling embarrassed and crossing your arms over your chest, "And nobody gave me the damn map to get there."

Dean raises an eyebrow at you, cocky smile firmly in place. "I bet I could get you there in twenty minutes or less.”

So here you were, stretched out on your best friend's bed, a little distracted by your own thoughts as Dean slides your jeans down your legs. You’re still worrying that you're going to end up embarrassing the both of you if this doesn’t happen, but Dean insisted that if he couldn't do it he'd do all your laundry for an entire month and fuck passing up an opportunity as golden as that.

“Hey,” you feel Deans hands on your thighs gently, as he looks up at you with concern. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

“No, I want to,” you say firmly. “I’m just…”

“Stop worrying,” Dean smiles, already reading your mind. “You’re either about to get a mind-blowing orgasm, or your laundry done for the next month. I’m pretty sure that’s a win win for you.”

A laugh bursts out of you before you can help it and you find yourself completely relaxed as Dean pulls your knees up over his shoulders and puts his face between your thighs, effectively stopping your giggle with an “Oh!”

Dean works quickly, his fingers finding your core and slipping inside you while his tongue locates your clit and starts to draw teasing figure of eights on the sensitive nub before gently sucking it.

Every so often your back arches off the bed and you feel him smirk smugly against your centre. The symphony of your low moans and his fingers slipping through your wetness seems to spur him on and you feel your grip tightening on his bedsheets.

The coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter until it finally, finally snaps and you scream, your whole body convulsing as your core clenches and your thighs shake and your toes curl.

Dean pulls his fingers out of you and you immediately feel the emptiness, whimpering at the loss. His face appears from between your legs, mouth wet with your juices. He licks his lips with a huge grin and eyes dancing with amusement.

"By my watch, that was twelve minutes," he smirks, "But let me do it again and I'll throw in the laundry for the hell of it?”

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #Dean Winchester smut #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #smut #room mates au #spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #iprobablyshipit91 writes #Twenty Minutes or Less

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

heyyy i Hope you have a good day <3

I really hope i dont make you feel um , uncomfortable with that or anything but uh you can totally ignore this but i recently got sick and i have a emetophobia which is why i got a Panic attack .Aswell i have way too much homework and exams to do so i had a really tough start in the Week . Also i had to call my School to Tell them that i won't able to make it there and then i needed to Go to The doctor but they Just sent me away :/

I hope i m Not wrong for calling this a emergency requests .

Please just some comfort with shuichi and/or rei furuya Just comforting The Reader mabye?Mabye they make an appointment for them at the doctor?Insted of the Reader after having a hard time doing so?

Thanks a Lot ,youre work really makes me Happy <3

Take youre time and it IS totally fine to ignore this !<3

Stay hydrated and have a good Week!

Oh no, I hope everything gets better soon 🥺

I'm keeping it slightly vague so I don't make any mistakes - if I still make some, let me know, I'll fix it right away 💕

Take care of yourself and remember to rest when you need to 💕💕💕

Akai x gn!reader, Furuya x gn!reader

Warnings: only slightly edited (i read it through once while already laying in bed 😅) exam/homework stressed and sick (relatively unspecified) reader, implied panic attack in the (not so long ago) past (also mention of hacking?)

"Baby, let me." Shuichi took the phone gently from your hands. "Just sit down and let me handle the call, okay?"

"But-"

He shook his head and led you to the couch, heavy hand resting comfortably on your lower back.

"You've been pacing the room for ages, sweetheart. I'd prefer it if you laid down so your body can get some well-needed rest and you get better soon."

You bit your lower lip, looking at him with uncertainty in your eyes.

"What about my exams."

He hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Don't worry about it, yeah? It won't get better if you stress yourself. Just - relax for a while, and I'll take care of the rest."

You murmured an 'okay' as you nuzzled against his stomach. Maybe a small nap really wouldn't hurt.

He sighed when he saw you slumped over your homework.

"You need to take a break," he said while he lightly massaged your shoulders to relieve you off at least some of the tension.

"I can't, you know that."

He clicked his tongue, but stayed undeterred, simply turning your chair for you to face him. Your eyes widened in surprise.

"Don't be stupid," he murmured while his hands moved to cup your cheeks so that his thumbs could brush over your skin. "You need to rest, sweetheart." He hummed for a moment, as he thought. "How about this? I'll look over your stuff and choose the tasks that I think will appear in the exam. We can go through them together later. I'll do the rest of your homework after."

"You say that as if you didn't need rest yourself," you chuckled tiredly.

He smiled and kissed your nose.

"Nah. I've got a lot of energy still left in me. So just let me hold you while you take your power nap. I promise everything will look a lot less bleak when you wake up again."

(Btw both of them may hack your teachers' computers to either delete some documents so your workload lightens or to view your exams and thus be able to prepare you as efficiently and perfectly as possible - by giving you the solutions 👀)

#i hope it's somewhat of a help #i'm posting it now so you have it as soon as possible #i haven't fully edited it yet though i onlt read it through once #akai shuichi x reader #akai #akai shuichi #subaru x reader #subaru #subaru okiya #furuya rei x reader #furuya x reader #rei furuya #furuya rei #amuro tooru x reader #tooru amuro #amuro tooru #bourbon x reader #what-the-stories-have-foretold #x gn!reader #akai x reader #detective conan

[so-many-fandoms-here]

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice)

• Characters: RK-800 (Connor), fem!Reader

• Genre: fluff, slight angst

•Warnings: logic mistakes for the plots sake

Unforgettable

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Connors POV

My eyes scan the office until I found the person I was looking for: Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I approach him with a nod.

„Hello Lieutenant. My data reset was successful, meaning that I am able to focus fully on our missions again.“ I don’t know how much data they deleted and what was the reason in the first place but I am positive that CyberLife had their reasons.

Andersons expression looks like a mixture of annoyance and and disappointment. Whatever CyberLife deleted, he doesn’t seem to enjoy my reset.

With a resigned sigh he stands up from his chair and motions me to follow him. „In case you worry about my reset: I kept all the data important to the case, so there is no need for you to-“ „Shut up.“

A familiar… feeling? spread inside me at his remark and I instantly know that this is his typical behavior.

„We‘re gonna pick up (Y/n) real quick“, he informs me when we sit inside the car, driving through rainy Detroit. I could swear I‘ve heard that name before but I can’t seem to find any data about a (Y/n). I probably stumbled about a statistic about names in the USA one day. It may be either a really common or a really rare name based on the fact that I connect something with it.

I turn my head to my left and realize that Anderson looks at me expectant. As I don’t say anything he sighs again, looking back at the street.

After a six minute drive he parks in front of a high apartment complex. Like always I stay close behind him and follow him inside the building, the elevator and eventually in front of a door in the 4. floor. He knocks against the door and shortly after a young woman opens it, a shocked expression in her face as she sees us.

I scan her face but to my surprise no data appears. Instead an error sign pops up in my program. Like she even doesn’t exist.

„What are you doing here, Hank?“ the woman asks while she just watches the Lieutenant slipping between her and the doorframe into the apartment. Her (e/c) eyes lock with mine for a second before she follows him inside her home. Again I follow. I find myself inside her neat living room.

„Wait here Connor. We’re back in a second“, Anderson orders me before he goes with (Y/n) into another room. They seem to argue slightly I realize. But I follow his instruction and start to look around the room while I wait for them to come back.

A gray sofa is placed in the middle of the room with a small table made of glass is in front of it, covered with a tea cup, a book and a tv remote for the tv that hangs on the wall in front of me.

While I look at the sofa glitchy pictures appear in front of me. I see myself sitting on the sofa with the woman that just opened the door, but before I can look further into it, the memory (I suppose that’s what it was) is gone again, leaving me back confused and unsettled.

I walk over the open kitchen, only separated by a single step, and take a look around there too. Maybe I can trigger another… whatever that was.

And I indeed can. As I look at one of the sticky notes at the fridge, the writing way too neat and symmetrical for a human, another picture appears in my vision.

„I wrote you a shopping list while you showered, so you won’t forget anything later.“ A voice speaks. My voice. „You’re the best Connor“, her voice responds while she steps next to me, leans closer and… kisses my cheek?Again before I am able to take a closer look at everything, it’s gone already.

I look at the note again that’s reminding her in form of a few checkpoint to buy utensils like dish soap and new sponges and then I continue my expedition.

My next stop is the bathroom, which door is opened wide. I look inside and see myself standing in the mirror next to her again. I watch myself drying her (h/c) hair while smiling at her even wider smile.

This time a wave of sadness washes over me as the picture fades again. I want to figure out what these pieces of memory will look like at the end, when I put them together.

The door behind me, opposite to the bathroom opens and as I turn around I see Lieutenant Anderson and (Y/n) step out of what seems to be the bedroom. A short glance inside to the bed is enough to trigger the final puzzle piece. (Y/n) and I sit on the bed, her hands in mine and her lips against my mine. And with that everything crashes over me. The fear when they took me to reset my data, the pain I felt on the way there even though I can’t remember details like how I got there or who took me.

What I know is who is in front of me. Who they tried to make me forget.

„Tell him your name“, Hank pressures but (Y/n) shakes her head. „We’re gonna get in big trouble if someone finds out.“

Four eyes are glued to me while my eyes switch between Hank and (Y/n) at first before they focus on her. „You’re (Y/n) (L/n)“, I start to speak before I am able to think. „You’re 28 years old and were born in Texas. You’re favorite color is a light blue. #9BD3FF to be exact. Your favorite song is Mr. Brightside by The Killers and you like to bake. Your first pet was a red-eared slider turtle named Rocky. The first time you kissed me was on your bed at 9:34 pm on a Friday.“

With every spoken word of mine, (Y/n)s and Hanks eyes got wider and even I was a little bit overwhelmed by the sudden amount of information popping up. But it feels good to remember.

„You… You remember me?“, (Y/n) asks with a shaky voice to which I nod. „But… They deleted your memories.“

„They can delete data, but they can’t delete my feelings“, I answer. „You’re unforgettable.“

It has only taken about two hours for me to get all the data back they tried to delete. Probably because this is more than just some data.

#fanfiction #x reader #fluff #Angst #detroit become human #dbh #detroit become human rk800 #detroit become human connor #connor detroit become human #connor rk800 #rk800 #connor x reader #dbh rk800 #dbh connor

[izukuwus]

thinking started feeling like burning - nishinoya yuu/reader

m.list - deleted smut scene - read on ao3

A/N: would you believe I wrote the majority of this BEFORE having a complete mental break and quitting my job without any sort of plan? this one is gonna have a smut spinoff oneshot sometime before the end of the month but no clear ETA yet due to school and job hunting. this boy needs more love and goddammit I may not be confident in my noya but I'M GONNA GIVE IT TO HIM

Summary: Nothing had changed since you left. Not him, a brilliant hurricane, and not you, a lost robot moving forward with no goals or dreams of your own. Opposites attract, after all.

Warnings: past minor character death, suggestive themes. reader is gender-neutral but for purposes of the deleted smut scene coming later is afab. reader basically has an anxiety disorder and it's implied they have not great parentage but no major detail is gone into.

Word count: ~8600

desolate

/dĕs′ə-lĭt, dĕz′-/

adjective

1. Devoid of inhabitants; deserted

2. Barren; lifeless

Yeah, maybe that was it. Desolate. In this hotel room—small, furnished but empty—you set aside your phone and its little dictionary definition of what’s wrong with you and the definition imprints itself on your brain all over again. Hardly the first time you’ve known the meaning of the word, but perhaps the first you’ve recognized it in your face.

In high school, you’d occupied your time with almost nothing but studying. There had been friends, one or two, and a blip towards the end in the form of a boyfriend, but you had potential and didn’t need to focus on things like going out to karaoke or making out with a guy when you had exams to study for.

You had so much potential.

You recall, dimly, having memorized the definition for desolate one day among all your vocabulary. More than that, reciting it for a hopeless light in your life who just didn’t get all this school stuff.

Your nose wrinkles at the memory. Best not get caught up in that spiral, yeah?

Against your better judgment, you flop onto the hotel room bed face-first and sigh. What the fuck are you even doing here? None of this was necessary. None of this was planned for.

There’s, of course, the simple textbook facts of the situation: you attended a work event, and halfway through, went to the bathroom and just stared at yourself in the mirror—much like the way you spent the past half an hour in a hotel bathroom—went home, got in your car, and drove to a hotel precariously close to your hometown. Sure, there’d been some kind of internal monologue going on, but you don’t remember any of it anymore. Nothing beyond what you’ve known for the past six years:

Something is fundamentally wrong with you.

“So, what, we get in our car and drive away and don’t show up to work and hope it all works out?”

The desolate room does not answer the desolate you.

~

Some species of sea turtle have been observed returning to the beach where they were born in order to nest, a phenomenon known as “natal homing”. There are many theories as to how they are able to return to their birthplace…

Like the sea turtle, you swim through endless water and find yourself, of all places, back in Miyagi, staring at a house you only vaguely remember and wondering if your instincts really led you here, or if you’re staring at a random stranger’s house you’ve never been to. Maybe there’s more than one family with his last name in the area.

It looks like all the others—a house in the countryside, standard and homely. You were here… what? Three times? Five?

Not even in the double digits—you know that much. You and Noya had spent more time together at school, or at your house. Your parents hadn’t wanted you to spend too much time alone with a guy at his house. In hindsight, you kind of get it. His grandfather hadn’t exactly been the type to make sure you two were being good kids, or whatever.

Still, you run your fingers over the nameplate, the kanji of Nishinoya’s last name, and try to figure out why this, of all places, is where you’ve drifted to.

“[name]?”

You startle, looking to the voice. Familiar, yet matured. Perhaps a bit lower. Perhaps carrying an emotion you don’t recognize. That, you know, must be him.

You note with a barely-stifled laugh that Noya has not changed his hair in the years since you’ve seen him. Still that stupid, adorable tuft of dyed blond hanging down in his face. Good.

Then, the feeling passes, and the panic sets in.

What the fuck are you doing at your ex-boyfriend’s house?

“Noya,” you breathe. You nod to him, stunned.

“Holy shit, that’s actually you!” He’s closed the distance in an instant, swept you off your feet in a hug that has you crying out in surprise. When he sets you down, you stumble, trying to catch your brain before it falls out your head. He studies you with bright, sharp eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Ah. “Uh, yeah. About that? I… I have no idea.”

He blinks slowly, and then he’s laughing. “That’s not like you at all! Come on, if you’ve got the time to sit down, I’m sure we’ve got something around here to feed you with.”

“Feed me…? Wait, I…”

But he’s already grabbed your wrist, pulled you across the forbidden threshold and right to the front door. Maybe you should have thought about literally anything before showing up at his house.

Too late for regrets, you guess. You’re in way too deep for him to let you slip away now.

~

In your mind, Nishinoya is steepling his hands together like a stern employer trying to figure out the best way to admonish a bad employee. The image doesn’t really suit him, and you do know that, but you still feel like cubicle fodder waiting to get chewed out.

In reality, he’s resting his chin in his hand, watching you carefully as you run your thumb over the glass of water he’s given you and try not to meet his eyes. (It had taken quite a bit of debating to keep him from actually feeding you. The water was a concession in a valiant fight.)

“So, you don’t know what you’re doing?”

A slow nod.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” The statement, repeated, does little to hide how astounded he is at the concept.

You sigh. It is easy and so, so heavy as the air escapes you. Maybe you can drown your errant thoughts in water until you understand just what, exactly, you’re trying to do here. You try, but no matter how much you drink, you still don’t have an answer. “Pretty much, yeah. I just sort of ended up here.”

He has an easy smile on his lips, sharp eyes taking you in. “After what?”

“What do you mean, after what?”

“I mean, it’s not like you to just run off and end up anywhere. You’re, you know, thoughtful and stuff! I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of you just doing something without at least three plans ready to go in case something went wrong.”

“I mean, there was you,” you admit with a laugh.

Shit. That was the wrong thing to say, but here you are, panicking and thinking you’ll make things even more awkward than you already feel, and there he is, smiling like he’s looking at…

What?

It isn’t until he’s leaning in further like he’s about to say something dirty that you realize your real mistake in that response.

“You didn’t think before you did me, huh?”

Your cheeks flare, and you hurriedly down the rest of the glass of water while you try to think of a suitable redirect. “You know what I meant!”

“Sure do! You meant—“

“Oh, hush.”

He laughs, and you fall into silence, trying to commit the sound of his laugh to memory.

That’s what sucks about this, oddly enough: you sit at his dining room table, holding a now-empty cup, and it’s just as easy as it always was. He tells you what he’s been up to: how he doesn’t play volleyball anymore (tragic—you loved watching him play) and he’s been traveling a lot (infuriating—you love to travel) and he’s dated once or twice since you last spoke, but nothing really lasting.

(heartbreaking.)

(you love—)

(you loved him when you left.)

“So,” he says, ever enthusiastic to redirect the conversation onto you, “what have you been up to?”

“Nothing, I guess.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve always been amazing. I bet you’ve been doing something awesome with that brain of yours. You wanted to write, right? How’s that going?”

Hah. Amazing. He’s only saying that because you were useful when you tutored him. “No, really. Nothing. Sales, I guess. Convincing people to give up money for a product I don’t believe in for a company I hate. I guess I’m up for a promotion soon. Really though, I think I’ve probably just been dead for the last… what, six years?”

You’d picked the number because it was when you graduated high school. That had made sense to you—college, too, had felt like nothing. No parties, no partners, just studying, exams, and keeping your body moving forward until you had a neat little degree in a field you didn’t care about. But when you spare a glance away from the window, where your attention has been glued in hopes of avoiding letting the awkwardness and pain of this whole situation actually hit you, it’s the first time since he ran into you that Noya isn’t smiling at you.

Oh yeah. And right before you graduated, you’d broken up with him.

“You broke up with me, you know,” he says after a long moment. “Are you saying you’ve been a ghost this whole time?”

And ouch. He’s right, and you hate that. It hadn’t been his fault you’d left. It’d been your insecurities, your inability to handle the weight of your parents’ disapproval, your unwillingness to fight for something that seemed so correct, your stunning realization that Noya would always shine too brightly for you to be the one standing beside him. He always thought you were amazing, but you were nothing compared to his whirlwind personality, his passion, his sense of life.

Maybe this would have been easier if you’d ever told him that.

“I don’t know what I’m saying. Probably just that high school was the last time I felt like a real person, and that ever since, I’ve just been going through the motions and slowly losing my mind and trying not to panic about the fact that not only do I not have any direction in life, I don’t even know how to enjoy it if I did.” Your words come out calm and metered. You try not to betray the worst of it.

For a moment, talking to him, you’d been able to forget the person you’ve been since graduation. You were always moving forward a step at a time, but at some point, you stopped being a hiker on your predetermined life path and just let yourself be a robot. Mechanical step after mechanical step. Just keep moving forward and you’ll get to where you’re going. When you get to where you’re going, you’ll take another stupid, empty step towards where you’re going now. Some successful career, some boring partner that your parents like, kids, wake up, go to sleep, another day, another day, another day doing exactly what you’re expected to do. Just keep following that bright, clear line. That bright, clear line to nowhere at all.

And then you stumbled. And now you’re here, again. Dizzy, sitting at the same table with the same guy.

At some point, you’d trailed off, staring at the table and searching for scars of a life well-used on its surface. You hear the shuffle of him standing over you, and look up to find him reaching out a hand to you. “Alright. Come on.”

“Come… on?”

He leans forward a bit more to take your hand and pull you up. “I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“Huh? Wait, but where?”

“Don’t know yet!”

He drags you out, and you stumble after him in mind and body.

“It’s one o’clock!”

“So we’ll scout places that look good while we get lunch. You don’t have anything to do, right?”

“Well, no, but—“

“Then we’re going!”

He pulls you right past the entryway, nearly has you out the front door before you can protest. “I’m not wearing shoes, Noya! You’re not wearing shoes!”

He only laughs, only pauses, only gives you a moment. “Get them on, then.”

“And do you even have your wallet?”

He blinks and pats his pockets. “Guess not! You’ve got until I’m back with my wallet to get your shoes on and decide to let this happen!”

Decide… to let this happen?

He disappears around the corner, deeper into the house, and at last you sigh, sitting to put your shoes on properly. You doubt he’ll be quick finding his wallet—if he’s anything like you remember (and so far, he’s exactly like you remember) then he has absolutely no idea where he put it last. If you didn’t think he’d absolutely drag you out the door once it was found, you’d kick your shoes back off and help him look.

After getting your shoes on, setting his out in ideal kicking-feet-into-without-stopping position, and five minutes of listening to him rustle about the house, you glance at a table in the entryway and smile at the sight of a plain black wallet in the dish. You inspect it, just in case it’s not his—there’s been no sign of Noya’s grandfather around, but almost nothing’s changed, so he probably still lives here. Better to check.

You open it, just to see that it’s got his ID in there and not someone else’s, and nearly slam it closed again immediately.

Yeah, it’s his missing wallet. ID and everything. And, in the little photo slot, a six-year-old photo of him in his volleyball jersey, million-volt smile on his face as you push him away with your own brilliant smile. He’d just won a game, and you’d been busy trying to get him, gross and sweaty, to stop getting all that gross and sweaty on you even as you laughed the entire time. Tanaka took the picture, you think—there’s a bit of thumb in the bottom right corner.

Noya keeps a photo of the two of you in his wallet. After six years without talking.

A noise bangs from somewhere else in the house, and you close the wallet and force down the warmth welling in your chest and rushing to your face. “All good?” you call out.

“I can’t find my stupid wallet!” he shouts back a moment later. He sounds a bit frustrated. “This isn’t going to work if I spend the whole day trying to—“

“Nishinoya,” you cut him off, half sing-song, “you left it by the door.”

No reply except the thudding of feet as he runs right up to you and plucks it from your hand. “There it is! I found it!”

“Oh, really? You found it?”

“Yep! Are your shoes on? We gotta go now!”

“Go where? You’re in an awful rush. Do you have plans or something?”

He kicks his shoes on and grabs your wrist again. “Nope! You’re gonna love it!”

~

Really a type of plankton, jellyfish possess extremely limited swimming abilities, if any at all, and rely on the currents to control their horizontal movements through the sea.

It occurs to you, as you make the trek to the bus stop, that you didn’t have to say yes to this. Well, really, it’s not like you said yes so much as didn’t say otherwise, and Noya, ever the trail-blazer, pulled you along for the ride. What’s even the difference in what you’re doing now and what you’ve been doing these past six years?

You barely make the bus. Nishinoya pays the fare for both of you, before you can protest, and when there’s only one open seat, he takes it.

“You’re such a gentleman,” you snort.

He responds by tugging you down into his lap. “I am!”

You’re stronger than you were in high school. Really, you are. You don’t collapse into emotions like embarrassment. You don’t let the sensation of being flustered consume you. You do not.

…you bury your face in your hands. “What are we doing right now?”

Always laughing. Always lighthearted. “What do you mean? We’re taking the bus someplace we can find some restaurants.”

“You know exactly what I mean!”

The bus passes over a bump, and he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. “You know, you’ve barely changed at all.”

“Neither have you,” you fire back. You meant it as an accusation, but the words come out tender. “You’re still a complete hurricane.”

He laughs, his own tenderness bleeding through. “And you’re still not letting yourself have anything you want.”

“When have I ever—“

“I think you know.” His other arm comes around your waist, holding you in a loose hug, chin resting against your arm.

You try not to stiffen at all the contact. This, too, is something you haven’t felt in ages—simple, casual touch. He had always been that way, resting a hand on your shoulder, your back, running fingers through the ends of your hair, like if he stopped touching you, you’d run away.

Maybe he was right. Maybe he is right.

“You didn’t answer me before. Are you still writing? I’ve been keeping an eye out for your name on the shelves, you know.”

You rest a hand on his arm, half considering pushing his arm off. The bus stops, but apparently not at a stop Noya is interested in dragging you off at—he steadies you as the bus jolts, and as a few passengers file off, you consider admitting the answer.

“Poetry these days, mostly. It’s not like I’d ever get published if I went for it, so I just scribble out a few half-assed lines and—“

“See, stop that. That’s half your problem right there, you know!”

“Another seat just opened up, you know,” you mumble. If you try to fight him on this, he’ll end up talking you into these grand ideas that you’ll never be able to accomplish, and by the end of the day he’ll probably have you in love with him all over again, even though you know it would never work, even though you know you’d never really be anything—as an employee, as a person, as his. “We don’t have to do this… couple-y thing.”

“I want to, though. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

…it is. It really is.

“…I still like to write, but I never have time anymore. It’s work, recovering from work, getting ready for work, waiting to come home from work so I can prep lunches and wash my clothes so I have something to eat and wear at work. I don’t have energy for anything except meetings, emails, and phone calls where no one means anything they say.”

“Damn. No wonder you seem so lost. Why don’t you quit?”

“And do what? It’s not like I have a dream job. I just want to get by and survive—“

“Why? You’re not happy. Don’t you want to do something more than survive?”

“I don’t even know what that would look like, Noya.”

He says everything so simply. Just quit. Just move on. Just move forward. He’s lucky, you think. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have parents planning out your entire life for you.

…okay, that was mean. Add that to the list of things that are wrong with you.

He sighs, shaking you gently in his hold. “It’s worse than I thought. Hey, [name], why’d you come here?”

“I told you already. I have no idea.”

“Alright. Adding it to the list. Today, you’re experiencing adventure for the first time in six years, and you’re gonna figure out what you were doing standing outside my house at noon on a Saturday. If I have my way, you’re also going to be quitting your job and starting a promising career as the greatest writer Japan’s ever seen, renowned the world over, but we can get to that some other time if you want!”

“Noya, I’m not—“ Your words die in your throat as his fingers slide between yours. You hadn’t realized your hand was sliding up his arm, but here he is, holding hands with you like it’s nothing.

God. How old are you, again?

~

Lunch ends up being crepes. Never mind the fact that crepes are not a meal, not even when Noya suggests buying two each—he proudly declares it lunch, and so lunch it must be. You’re lucky that he graciously allowed you to get a table, though he’d insisted on grabbing one outside even as the sky above has started to loom with rainclouds.

“And what’ll we do if it rains?” you retort drily as he sits across from you.

“We’ll figure it out,” he grins, sliding you a menu. “Dry off after we get rained on, not before.”

You snort. “How about we just try not to get rained on?”

“Then we would be sitting inside, and you wouldn’t get to look up at the clouds while we eat! You always liked the way the sky looked before it rained, right?”

A soft huff leaves you, a small smile unbidden. “You actually remember that? I think I said that to you, like, one time.”

He nods. “Only had to say it once! Besides, I caught you staring up at the sky in the rain more than once.”

“And yet, I had to repeat the same information for you so many times, only for you to still get it wrong on test day…”

“Hey! I was distracted!”

“You weren’t supposed to be,” you tease.

“What was I supposed to do? There was this gorgeous person sitting across from me telling me all these complicated things in a nice voice. I’m a simple man!”

Though your cheeks heat at the declaration, you can’t help but laugh. “Clearly.”

“Yeah. Clearly.” For just a moment, he’s soft, unbearably soft, and you fear looking at him. Quick, change the subject before you have to acknowledge whatever’s going on here!

“S-so!” Smooth! You’re doing great, sweetie! “Any idea what you’re going to get?”

He slaps a finger down on the menu without looking. “A… monte… monte…”

You sigh and peer over to look at the fanciful English he’s pointing to. “A Monte Cristo crepe?”

“Yeah!”

“Did you read the part where it’s got onions as a main ingredient? Don’t you hate onions?”

He wrinkles his nose, but stands firm. “I’m sure!”

You huff softly. “Alright. Far be it from me to stop you.”

“What about you? Make a pros and cons list for each menu item yet?” he teases.

“For your information, I don’t have to do that when ordering in restaurants. That’s for big decisions. But…” You sigh. “I haven’t eaten out in a while. It stresses me out.”

“Why?”

“So let’s say I pick something that looks good, and it sucks. I won’t eat it because it sucks, but then I feel like I’ve insulted the chef and wasted my time and money.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. But at least you’ll know! When’s the last time you actually ate out like this?”

You bite your lip thoughtfully. When was it?

“I… think I did a celebration dinner with my parents when I graduated?”

“College?”

“No, high school. We didn’t celebrate when I graduated college.”

Once again, he’s staring at you in blank disbelief. “[name], that was six years ago.”

You flush. “Yeah, so?”

“That’s so sad. What have you been doing? I’m about to take you on a food tour just so you can catch up on all the restaurants you’ve been missing.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Please, no. I can’t eat that much.”

“Then we’ll spread it out!”

“Noya…”

The waiter drops in at exactly the wrong time. Flustered, you stumble your way into lemonade for you, apple cider for him, and then, as he’s confidently mispronouncing “Monte Cristo” to the waiter, you panic and end up ordering some curry crepe, a concept which intrigues and horrifies you.

“How’d you even find this place? Seems weird for there to be some half-French, half-English upscale crepe restaurant out in Miyagi.”

“What do you mean, how did I find it? We found it together. I’ve never eaten here.”

Right. He’s completely winging everything. “Amazing.”

“Right?”

Drinks come, and you sigh into a masterful lemonade and try to think of things to say to fill the space between you and your ex. (You have to try not to forget that bit—that this isn’t natural, that this can’t lead anywhere. For your sake and his.) “So, how’s your grandfather been?”

The easy smile on Noya’s lips drops. “Oh. He died late last year. Age caught up to him, I guess.”

Oh. Fuck. “Noya, I’m so…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. Crazy bastard had a hell of a time of it. He’d hate for me to sit around feeling bad about it, anyway.”

He wouldn’t want you to pity him. Doesn’t want you to pity him. You know that. But…

Did Noya ever talk about any other family members when you knew him? You know he lived in that house with his grandfather. No siblings. Never mentioned any cousins. You know he didn’t grow up around his parents, either…

Has he been alone this whole time?

You reach across the table. Place a hand on his. “Maybe I’ll visit more often.”

In silence, the two of you sit and wait for your crepes.

~

The crepes come out, and with them, new points of conversation that carry you both to finishing—all the way until Noya manages to argue you into letting him pay. He pulls you along, a bit slower than before, a bit easier. You can’t help but let him take your hand and bring you wherever the wind is leading him, half-pitying him and half from the complete lack of will to fight him all day.

“I told you you weren’t gonna like what you ended up ordering.”

“You liked it though, right?”

Predictably, he’d taken one bite of the crepe and instantly realized his mistake. Far too much onions for his tastes. Your curry crepe had been… well…

Let’s just say that you weren’t especially upset when Noya asked you to swap.

“It was really good, if you like onions.”

“I know what I like! Onions aren’t it!”

It’s easy like this, and the day really is nice. There’s rain on the breeze and in the clouds, a pleasant scent and a comforting gloom over the day. You tease and joke back and forth, hand in hand like it’s natural, and it is. It’s easy, being around him. It was easy back then, too. So easy it scares you.

You’re just waiting for the bottom to fall out.

You’re waiting for the bottom to fall out, and it does—with a shriek and loud laughter, rain chases the both of you underneath a tree and within sight of the nearest bus stop, soaking you both through to the bone.

“See?” Noya says, grinning as he pulls you a little closer underneath the tree. “Now we can worry about getting dry.”

“You’re unbelievable,” said with a smile. “What is all this meant to prove again?”

“Well, why’d you come here?”

“Here? You dragged me out here.”

“Yeah, but why’d you come back to Miyagi? I’m just saying, my doorstep is not the first place I expected you to turn up on when the inevitable nervous breakdown hit.”

You fall silent, shiver in the rain. It’s peaceful. You try to focus on watching for a bus, anything except the question you were asked.

“[name].”

You glance at him, yelp a little to find how close the two of you have gotten. This close, in this kind of situation, it’d be only natural for you to lean in, for you to brush your lips against his.

God, have you even kissed anyone since you burned everything down?

You’re not doing this. You’re not falling into a hurricane like him again. You won’t be able to come back if you do that. (Especially with such a fucking cliché.)

You turn away. “You already asked me that. I told you before, I don’t know.”

He hums thoughtfully. Drapes his jacket over both of your heads in an attempt to keep you both from looking any more rained out than you already do.

“I’m just saying, if you want my opinion, you’re going to have to do a lot more adventuring and a lot less sales for a company you hate if you want to remember what ‘happy’ is supposed to feel like.”

“Not sure I ever knew what that was like to begin with.”

“Never?”

“When I was a kid, maybe.”

He tilts his head. “Not even when we dated? Is that why you broke up with me?” He sounds genuinely curious. Would it feel better, you wonder, if he sounded hurt?

You wince. “I didn’t mean… I just…” A sigh. “It’s more like, I was too afraid to let myself be happy when I was with you.” In the close proximity, you find it easier to let your head rest against him a little. “Please don’t misunderstand. I like you. I probably would have been really happy with you if there weren’t something fundamentally wrong with me as a person.” Shit. You definitely misspoke there.

“I don’t really know how to teach you to relax a little, but it’s gotta be easier now that you’re out of your parents’ house. Maybe you need to go somewhere completely new. Get a fresh outlook.”

You arch a brow his way. At least he’s not commenting on your slip of the tongue. “What are you suggesting, Nishinoya?”

“I’m leaving for Italy. Six weeks. That’s enough time for you to plan your little heart out, right?”

“Italy.”

He nods, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Italy.”

“And if I came back after six years to kill you or something?”

He barks a laugh, stark against the pouring rain. His eyes linger on you. The part of you that’s charitable to yourself thinks he might be mentally undressing the clothes sticking to your skin, though you know it’s more of a challenging look. “I’d like to see you try.”

~

One soaking wet bus ride back to Noya’s house doesn’t save you from this little adventure plan of his. Instead, you’re given a towel or two to dry off with and a change of clothes from his closet, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. The way he acts, everything is.

So now here you are, wearing a shirt far too large for you that you’ve wrestled into looking somewhat nice with Nishinoya’s jeans. It slides off your shoulder a bit no matter how many times you fix it. You admit, you do manage to pull it off, but the whirlwind of the day still has your head spinning with just how wrong this situation is.

You’re supposed to be at work right now. You should be in office clothes, sitting at a desk in a too-cold cubicle that you never got around to decorating, perfect and polished while you tap out yet another perfectly-balanced email, three-quarters professional, one-quarter gentle familiarity to lure your clients into a false sense of security. Not standing in your ex’s bathroom, tying one of his t-shirts at the waist, adjusting your hair to look closer to “decent” than “drowned rat”. This, this day, this situation, was never supposed to happen.

Is this whole day going to be a stumble? How long will it be until you catch yourself and get back to moving forward? When you do, will you still have a place at your desk?

Do you even want one?

A knock at the bathroom door. “If you give me your clothes, I’ll get them started drying,” his voice filters through the door.

All of these actions have been so easy. Your wet clothes, picked up from where they hung shower-side. Easy to wring them out a bit more to keep from making the floor worse. Easy to open the door. Easy to hand them to him.

Nothing had ever been particularly hard before him, but falling in love with him had been just like this: easy.

Maybe the first easy thing you ever remember.

~

So you go along with it. Another bus ride, this one less crowded than before. This time with umbrella in hand—just one, because of course Noya didn’t even think about it on the way out the door—and a determination to figure out what the hell you’re doing here to begin with.

Everything is as everything was, you think. Shops lining the street, one familiar sight in particular, one of two things you had never had the strength to deny yourself back in school. At the sight of the bookshop, you tug Nishinoya to a stop. You’re a little surprised when he actually does stop.

“Sorry, can we head in? I used to love this place back in school.” You nod to the bookshop. He smiles and lets you lead the way.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve done something selfish today,” he comments as you lead him in.

You refuse to meet that one with a reply.

The shop is exactly as you remember. High stacks of books, books, books everywhere. The scent of old books and a slight spice in the air, scents blending and mixing until, for just a moment, you’re in high school again, marveling at rare finds coming through the used books section and finding some new world to escape into.

You sigh into the scent and disappear into the stacks. Noya is kind enough to humor you as you pick through, find a title or two to take up to the register. If you really do come back to visit from time to time, you’ll have to make sure to stop in here when you do. The old woman at the register hasn’t aged a day. She smiles when she sees you the same way you’re smiling as you approach her.

“Is that little [name]?” she asks, though you both know she already knows the answer. “Why, I haven’t seen you around here in ages! You’ve grown so well!”

“It’s wonderful to see you again, ma’am.”

“Just as polite as you always were. Find everything you were looking for?”

She’s got a poster on the counter by the register. You steal a glance, then meet her eyes with a smile. “Sure did! I’m glad to see you guys are still here.”

Her smile turns bitter. “I’m not sure how much longer, I’m afraid.”

Ah. There’s the heartbreak, panic, fear. “What?”

“It can’t be helped. It’s getting difficult to watch this place in my age, and my Taka’s not been doing so well lately. The kids are all off worrying about their own lives now…”

Your chest twists at the thought. “Can’t you find help?”

“We’ve been looking, but…”

It cannot possibly be this easy.

There’s no way.

“But…”

Noya slides a few bills over the counter while you’re busy fighting a war in your head.

“Oh, and who’s this? You’ve got to introduce your boyfriend, dear.”

“Oh, he’s not—“

“It’s nice to meet you, Granny! I’m Nishinoya.”

Already, they’re spiraling off into some side conversation, too fast for you to make the obvious correction as the old lady makes your—Noya’s—change. She tucks a little bookmark into the front of the stack, and you slide your new books into your bag in resignation. It becomes his space as easily as it was yours, and somehow, it doesn’t feel wrong.

After you’ve left, you consider clearing the air, bringing up… whatever that was.

…it’s not worth the argument.

Another few shops, another few stops. Another few steps forward, another few hours, and yet again you’re sitting across from him, fretting over being underdressed at the restaurant you’ve both happened across and settled on.

“Are you sure we’re dressed alright?” you mutter.

“They let us in the door, didn’t they?”

…yeah, you don’t know what you expected him to say.

“Besides, you look great,” he adds. His eyes dance over you, over the bare skin on your shoulder where you’ve finally given up on pulling the neck of his shirt back up. “I think you wear that better than I ever have.”

You ignore him in favor of another menu, another decision to make that feels earth-shattering. At least you’re aware you’re being ridiculous when it comes to ordering. Really, what’s going to change if you get the fun-looking drink you might not like over the safe one? How bad would it really be if you didn’t like your meal that much?

Drinking too much. Discovering a new allergy. Food poisoning—

“You’re overthinking again,” he teases.

“I’m always overthinking,” you grumble.

“Maybe you need to take the edge off.”

He’s right, and you know that in theory. But in the practice and the day-to-day, you stare at the drinks menu and feel your chest constrict with that itch of anxiety all over again.

“You’ve just got to jump in before you can talk yourself out of it. Come on, [name], let me distract you a little.”

…you don’t think he’s trying to flirt, but your face feels hot all the same. And, well, shit, Noya is a great distraction. He’s a bit less keyed-up than he was back then, but he’s still endlessly charming, endlessly easy to get wrapped up in if you lower your guard even a moment.

“…fine. So what’s this you were saying earlier about Italy?”

His eyes light up. You rest your chin in your palm, glance over the menu again as he tells you about his dreams of traveling the world, how he wants to seek new thrills and see all these new things. You can see every potential disaster of the situation—for one, he has a house back home that someone’s going to need to care for while he’s away, and he doesn’t seem to have thought of that. For another, he’s got an inheritance and no passive income to work with. His grandfather’s leftover money may be substantial enough for this to work in the short term, but longer-term…

Well, one day, he’s going to run headfirst into a hole he can’t climb out of himself.

The thought scares you. Who’s going to be there for him when that happens?

The waiter stops by. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you pick out something alcoholic and fruity and try not to preen under Noya’s delighted approval.

“I’ve never seen you drunk before. Looking forward to it,” he grins. This time, you’re sure he means it flirtatiously, given the wicked gleam in his eyes.

You reach across the table to bat at his arm. “Keep looking, then. I don’t plan on getting drunk tonight. Just buzzed enough to put up with you.”

“Well, that’s no fun. I wanted to know what you’re like when you finally let loose.”

“Excuse you, I can be plenty fun without getting drunk off my ass.”

“Then let’s see it.”

Drinks come out, food orders are placed. You get your margarita halfway down before the buzz starts really setting in, a pleasant warmth blossoming through you. At least now when Noya makes your face hot with some offhanded comment, you can blame it on something other than your own weak heart.

“You know, this is the most adventurous thing I’ve done since I dated you,” you admit once you’re both walking back to the bus stop. Fully sober you would never have this conversation. You recognize that, but there’s enough pleasant fuzz in your head that for once you do not give nearly enough of a fuck to stop yourself. The night is warm, maybe even romantic. “This whole… running around, stopping at random restaurants, getting drenched in the rain without an umbrella. All that.”

He’s got this soft look in his eyes as he regards you. “Really? I can’t say I’m surprised. You were always worrying about everything.”

You snort. “Someone had to.”

“We were kids, though. You probably could have left at least some of that worrying to your parents.”

“Believe it or not, they gave nearly all of that worry to me. On purpose, I think.” You sigh, lean against him just a touch. Your balance never was all that great sober. “I had to be perfect. You were that one little blip.”

“Hey, it felt perfect to me.”

“Did I make a mistake, do you think?”

He looks a little wounded at that. To your credit, he’s definitely misinterpreting. “Dating me?”

“No. Leaving you.”

He pauses, an awkward motion that has you both stumbling just a bit. He’d drank over dinner, too—you’re both buzzed, and the bubbly, floaty feeling ebbs out as you stare at each other. “Why do you say that?”

“I just… I thought about it a lot,” you mumble. “What it would have been like. If I’d just stayed, instead of letting the thought of my parents scare me into running away.”

He huffs a soft laugh and winds his arm around your shoulder. “I thought about it, too. Come on. You don’t need to make it back to the hotel alone; I’ve got a guest bedroom you can use tonight. That, and I’ve still got your clothes.”

Oh. Right.

You nod and let him walk you back to his home.

~

“Have you figured anything out yet?” he asks as he finds another oversized t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts for you to sleep in. “Gotten even a little closer to figuring out how to do something you actually feel like doing?”

“I had fun,” you mumble in reply. “I know that much, at least.”

“Good. That was mostly the point.” He hands the clothes over to you. They’re more neatly folded than you would have given him credit for.

“Mostly?”

“Well,” he grins, “I also wanted to spend the day with you. Didn’t figure you’d ever agree if I didn’t drag you out before you could think about it too hard.”

“It was nice,” you admit. “Thank you. For all of it. I… I still don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow, though.”

“Is it so bad listening to what you feel like doing every once in a while, though?”

“If I knew what I felt like doing, maybe.” You linger awkwardly in his doorway, bounce your shoulder rhythmically against the frame. “You’ve got your work cut out for you if you think one day is gonna get me that in tune with my brain.”

“That’s why I asked you to come to Italy with me.” He tilts his head, some question lingering unspoken. “Try it now, though. What does [name] feel like doing right now?”

He’s close to you. Too close. He’s close, and pretty, and magnetic, and—

“[name] feels like doing something stupid.”

His grin widens. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Nishinoya Yuu, and I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I am pretty damn stupid.”

—fuck it. You grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it.

He reciprocates in kind, an eager hand coming to settle on your waist like it’s been waiting to rest there all night. You kiss him hot, heavy, open-mouthed; let your hands slide from gripping his collar to locking loosely behind his neck. When you’re both out of breath, he pulls back and leans in to whisper into your neck:

“Why did you come here, [name]?”

It’s hard to think with his breath on your neck, his hands on your body leaving your skin on fire where he touches, but you are great at thinking and finally off the deep end enough to admit it.

“I wanted to remember what it was like to feel alive,” you breathe out into his ear. His lips brush your throat, and you let out a breathy whine. “You’re the only person who ever—who ever seemed to know how to do that.”

“Let me show you how to let go, then.”

There’s no illusions about what he means. Not this time, not with his lips dancing down your neck to your exposed shoulder. Not with his hips pressing into yours, not with his fingertips toying with the edge of his shirt you’re wearing, and not with his fingertips brushing the bare skin at your waist.

You nod and hope you won’t regret it.

~

If there’s regret to be had, you expect you’ll see it in the light of morning. As it is, Noya returns from the bathroom and collapses right onto you, a lithe arm pulling you into his chest.

“I’m glad you came back,” he mumbles into your hair. You’re both tired—it’s late, and that might have been the best workout you’ve gotten in a while.

“Because you missed me, or because you got to fuck me?” you tease, sliding a hand over his.

“I missed you,” he replies without missing a beat. “Not too late to come travel the world with me. Quit your job and feel peace for once in your life.”

“Peace? With you around? Not likely. Besides, I’m renting a place in Tokyo. I can’t meet rent if I quit my job.”

He laughs and pulls you in a little closer. “Then just Italy, and you can go back to the way you felt before you turned up on my doorstep looking more lost than I’ve ever seen anyone in my life.”

You sigh. “When you’re traveling the world, who’s gonna take care of your house? It doesn’t seem like you’re selling it, are you?”

“Italy, come home, we’ll break in the place, and then I’ll come home to you between trips while you work on writing an international bestseller.”

Your heart flutters at the thought. Admittedly… it’d solve a lot of the problems you have with his little “plan”.

“And how do you suppose I pay for being alive aside from not having rent?”

“Ask that old lady at the bookshop if you can help at the store.”

“Why do you have an answer for everything?”

“It’s okay if things fall into place once in a while, you know.”

You sigh into him. There’s too many unknowns. How is he going to keep paying for traveling? What if the book never works out? If there’s no space for you at the bookshop? If—

He nuzzles into your neck. “I’m waiting on an answer, baby…”

“It’s late, Noya. I’ll think about it.”

“Do me a favor and think yourself into something for once, instead of out of it. I might die if you leave again.”

He presses one last kiss into the back of your neck before you both draft off, sore and exhausted.

There’s one thing, at least, you can be sure of, at least for tonight: you’re glad you came here.

~

Epilogue

“You’re looking much better,” your coworker nods to you as you settle back into your desk. “Get some much-needed rest?”

You nod your reply. “I did, thanks. Sorry for disappearing so suddenly. That cold was killer. Think I slept about fourteen hours straight.”

She snorts. “Man, no wonder you weren’t answering your phone. Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She wanders off to her own desk. You take a long sip of your drink, stretch a bit, and get right to your stupid little emails.

You tap away, pausing between sentences to consider, to answer the phone, to sip your drink. Occasionally, to tab over to some other draft when you worry a passing coworker might see exactly what you’re writing. At one or two points, over to your web browser, either to the wikiHow article you’re referencing, or to one of the many other tabs: your online banking, to confirm that this isn’t going to completely kill you (it won’t—all work and no play gives Jack a hefty savings account), or to any number of other wonderful things on the Internet that you suddenly feel comfortable accessing with the letter you’re drafting in the background.

It takes an hour to settle. The letter is drafted, all the right people are copied. You’ve triple checked everything, gotten all your things already slid into your bag or in a box to carry out with you. Made sure everything you need to leave behind is in clear view on your desk. You’ve even prepped an auto-response on your email client so people know who to bother, if not you. It’d take three, maybe four clicks to blow up your life.

You can’t do it.

You reach for your cell and dial.

Noya, despite all that worries you about him, has always been an early riser. He picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Distract me,” you order in lieu of a greeting.

You hear laughter, a slight shuffle. “From what?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just distract me.”

“Ah, you’re doing something you don’t want to talk yourself out of. I’m proud of you!” You hear the smile in his voice, close your eyes to try to visualize it. “Am I allowed to ask what you’re up to? Where you are?”

“No and no. If I tell you, I’ll back out by the time I finish saying it.”

“I get it. Hey, do you still have that mark on your neck from when I—“

Your cheeks burn, fingers dancing along the bruise in question. It had been a bitch to cover with makeup this morning. You’re still not convinced you did so successfully, but no one’s commented on it yet, at least. “No thanks to a certain someone. I still can’t believe you did that.”

“Hey, you said you felt like doing something stupid. Who was I to deny you?”

“Cheeky bastard.” You smile, lean back in your chair a little bit. Click ‘send’. “Oh god. I did it.”

“Am I allowed to ask what you did now?”

“I might throw up. Not sure yet. Hey, how do you feel about renting bikes?”

“Bikes?”

“In Italy. I was looking up, like, bucket lists and stuff, and there’s this road, the Appian way? You can rent bikes and bike it. Apparently, it’s pretty old, and there’s this café we could eat at, and—“

You hear the thunk of something falling in the background of the call. “You’re coming!?”

“Well, I just emailed my resignation letter to my boss and HR, and I can see him panicking in his office from here, so you better have meant it. Here in a minute or two, he’s probably going to call me in, or come yell at me at my desk—“

“When’s your resignation effective? Did you give a notice?”

“Effective as soon as he stops panicking.”

A bark of laughter sounds in your ear. “So if he comes to yell at you, just leave. You already quit, anyway. What’s he gonna do?”

“Good point. Leaving now.” You stand, scoop up your bag. “I have two months left on my lease. If you didn’t mean that thing about me housesitting while you’re off seeing the world, speak now before I call my landlord and let him know I’m canceling that, too.”

“All yours, but your rent is walking around without pants whenever I’m home.”

You roll your eyes. Pause to wave at your boss on your way out the door. If he shouts after you, you don’t hear it. You’ve got a trip to Italy to plan.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

If you'd like to be tagged, shoot me a message or an ask, or ask here in the replies, tags, or reblogs and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in (all works, all works specific to a character, all smut works, etc.). If your name appears on this list but is not underlined and you didn't get a notification, please check to make sure that your blog is NOT set to not appear in search results in your blog settings! If you've got that set that way for a particular reason, consider subscribing to the fic on ao3 for an equivalent update notification, as I always crosspost simultaneously! After three unsuccessful tagging attempts, you will be removed from the list.

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#nishinoya yuu x reader #yuu nishinoya x reader #noya x reader #noya/reader #nishinoya yuu/reader #my fics

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

Sweeter Than Candy (Anarcia)

Some Anarcia for your Saturday :) (Or whatever day of the week you may be reading this). Featuring Fuego the duck

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Read on ao3

Marcia waited over an hour for the sundries shop she worked at to have the next quiet moment to check her phone. She auditioned for a new show coming to Off-Broadway over a week ago and hasn’t heard from the casting director. As the last group of tourists left, mumbling how expensive deodorant was, she fished her phone out of her skirt pocket.

The only notification on her phone was the weather app informing her that it’ll rain later.

They sighed, putting the phone back into their pocket. Only four more hours until their shift’s over, and then they can call their sister Jan to vent to for the rest of the night. 

After a quiet period in the store, Marcia kept busy restocking the drinks in the cooler as a few businessmen came in to buy razors and aftershave before returning to their hotel rooms for the night. She hummed along to the royalty-free music playing throughout the lobby and adjoining store. Marcia never understood how one of the most luxurious hotels in Manhattan couldn’t pay for actual pop music. 

As she reorganized the candy shelf, the bell above the glass door chimed, indicating that someone walked into the shop. “Welcome in!” she chirped and looked over her shoulder to the guest, but then realized that the person wasn’t a hotel guest.

It was the spoiled daughter of the owner of The Royal Lotus, Anetra, and her girlfriend, Aura. 

Marcia was pretty sure that Aura was Anetra’s girlfriend, as they had rarely seen the two apart. Aura’s parents were investors in the hotel, and both families had been friends for decades. Of course, their daughters would be a couple, as it was practically fate. 

Anetra gave her a blank stare in return as she went straight to the chip section, as Aura gave them a polite smile and wave as she followed. Anetra’s face never changed, as she always looked pissed off at something, but Marcia had no idea what that something could be. 

Marcia returned to the check-out area as they waited for the couple to finish shopping. Anetra walked up carrying a bag of Fuego Takis and a Diet Coke and dumped her items on the counter. She was the only person who ever bought these chips, and Marcia honestly thought it was in stock just for Anetra. 

“Family account, please,” Anetra said as she waited for her girlfriend. They nodded quietly, typing on the point-of-sale computer, and finished the transaction. They felt slight relief from the awkwardness when Aura walked up with an armful of candy.

Marcia and Aura made polite conversation as they rang up the items. Aura was usually the more social out of the two. “I love this one, it’s made by a new chocolatier in Brooklyn,” they said as they pointed to one of the candy bars. 

Anetra’s eyes slightly brightened from where she waited as Aura replied, “Oh, really?” she looked over to Anetra. “Maybe I should take Robin there when she’s here next week.” 

Anetra nodded, with a curious look on her face “She would like that.” 

Marcia put the items in a paper bag as Aura paid with an Amex Black and wished the two goodnight as they left the shop.

Marcia sighed and looked at their phone again, with no new messages and an hour left in their shift. They were definitely going to get that fancy chocolate tonight as a comfort treat for not getting the role. 

A week passed by, and Marcia didn’t get the role. They received a generic ‘Thank you for your interest’ email from the casting director and clicked the delete button without even opening it. As they searched for other casting calls, they watched the quiet store from where they leaned on the checkout counter. 

Further along in their shift, they looked at the saved casting call events into their calendar as the door opened and saw Anetra and Aura walk in. They pasted on their customer service smile and straightened up, “Welcome!”

“Hello.” Aure politely said as Anetra continued walking until Aura pulled her back by the wrist and mouthed something that Marcia couldn’t see. 

“Oh, um, right. Hi.” Anetra said, giving a small wave. Marcia tried to hide her shock as the two walked further into the store. Anetra rarely greeted Marcia back when she went into the store. Marcia had no idea what Aura said to Anetra, but she was thankful for it. 

Several minutes later, Anetra walked up to the counter with a few different candy bars, and Aura stood close by, looking at the small rack of sunglasses. Marcia found it strange that Aura was looking at that particular display when she had sunglasses of her sitting on the top of her head but didn’t say anything about it. 

Marcia looked at the items that Anetra brought up, “No chips today?” she asked as she started scanning the items. 

Anetra shook her head and glanced at Aura before looking back to Marcia. “No, not today.” She awkwardly looked down and pointed to one of the candy bars. “Do you know if this one is any good?” Her fingers ran through her bleached blonde hair.

Marcia looked at the candy bar, seeing it was from the same chocolatier Aura bought last week. “The sea salt and caramel? I’ve tried it when we first got them in, I think it’s pretty good.” 

She felt the awkward tension that she usually felt with Anetra slowly disappear. The two fell into casual conversation when Anetra asked, “Which one is your favorite from them?” She asked, referring to the small chocolate brand on the candy bars. 

Marcia momentarily thought before they replied, “I think the dark chocolate and mint is my favorite one. I don’t think we ever get it in our shipments, though.” They shrugged as they put the candy in a small paper bag and typed the family account code into the computer. 

The two left the store as they exchanged goodbyes, and Marcia had a small smile. She felt it was a nice change for Anetra to talk to her for once. 

Two days later, Marcia walked into shipment day from the store’s different vendors. After clocking in that morning, Marcia and her coworker, Amethyst, emptied and organized all the shipments from the vendors that dropped off before the store opened. 

As the two took turns checking out the few customers that entered the store, the number of boxes they worked through lessened throughout the morning. Marcia worked through the last box in the candy section, working on the gourmet chocolate display. They pulled out a handful of candy bars, and the first one on the pile caught their eye. 

Dark chocolate and mint from the new chocolatier in Brooklynn. A pleasant surprise to see their favorite flavor now for sale in the shop, at first. Then Marcia remembered the conversation with Anetra from the other night, 

They told Anetra that dark chocolate and mint was their favorite flavor, but the store didn’t carry it. Now suddenly, the store has it in their regular stock. 

Marcia questioned the power and motives of rich people as she continued to stock the shelf. Was Anetra trying to be her friend?

As Amethyst and Marica were tearing down the boxes to be taken to the dumpster outside, the door chimed as it opened. The two looked over and said, “Welcome in!” in unison as Anetra walked in and waved at the two. 

What surprised Marcia about Anetra coming into the store this time was that she was alone. No Aura and no other rich friends accompanied her.

Amethyst looked from Marcia to Anetra, who was already looking at the candy display, and then back to Marcia. She bent down and picked up the pile of flat cardboard boxes and said to her coworker, “I’m gonna take these out, I’ll be back soon!” before she scattered out the back door. 

Marcia didn’t even have the chance to tell her they were barely halfway through all the boxes before she ran out. 

Marcia sighed as she walked over to the check-out counter while Anetra waited with another pile of candy bars with a Diet Coke. “It looks like the ones you like came in,” Anetra said, pointing to the new chocolate bar on the top of the pile. 

“It did, I’m guessing telling you that it was my favorite had something to do with it?” Marcia asked as she started scanning the items in front of her. 

Anetra had a sly smile on her face, “Guilty, but I wanted to try it for myself.” 

Marcia smiled as they started to type in the family account number, but Anetra held out a $50 bill to stop them. “Actually, it’s cash today.” 

Ignoring their annoyance for having to break the $50 bill for a transaction that was $7.09, they handed Anetra the change and kept the larger bill nearby for the moment. “I’ll see you later, Marcia,” Anetra said with a little wave and walked out the door again with the paper bag.

Just as Marcia was about to put the $50 bill into the safebox near the register, she felt something on the back. Pulling off the hotel-branded sticky note from the back, she read what it said. 

555-XXX-XXXX 

Text me whenever ;)

-Anetra 

“So what did Miss Heiress have to say?” Amethyst said as she walked back into the store, and Marcia looked up from the note.

“She gave me her phone number for some reason,” Marcia said, unable to hide their confusion. “I have no idea why she would give it to me.”

Amethyst tilted her head in mock sympathy “Aw, Marshie, you’re lucky that you’re pretty.”

Over the next week, Marcia found Anetra visiting the shop at least once a day, buying the same items over and over again. The heiress would smile and wave at Marcia, head straight to the candy counter, and buy some candy bars and a Diet Coke. She started to make small talk with Marcia while they rang up the items, seeming more comfortable with talking than she had a few weeks before.

They’d seen Aura come in with Anetra a few times during the week, so Marcia ruled out the possibility that the two broke up. They hadn’t texted the number that Anetra gave them during the last shipment day, but Anetra hasn’t mentioned it either. 

At the end of the week, Marcia waited for Anetra to visit the store during her shift. Her shift was almost over, and there was no sign of the other woman. She was feeling more disappointed closer to the end of her shift. 

Luckily she had a casting call after her shift, so at least she had something to look forward to. 

She realized Anetra wasn’t coming in that night when they saw Amethyst walk in to take over for her shift. Sighing, they finished their end-of-shift duties and passed the store keys to Amethyst, and headed to walk out the door. 

Marcia stopped when they saw the hotel’s lobby manager, Sasha, enter through the heavy glass door.

“Oh, good, you’re still here. I need you to do one more thing before you leave for the day.” Sasha cheerfully said, passing Marcia a slip of hotel-branded paper. 

Marcia looked at the list, “Excedrin, Diet Coke, Fuego Takis, Dark Chocolate, and Mint bars…What is this?” they asked as they read off the list.

“Anetra sent down a list of what she needed from the store. She wanted you to bring them up to her penthouse.” Sasha explained.

“Why me? Couldn’t someone from room service do it?” Marcia pointed out.

Sasha shrugged in response before turning to leave the store “She explicitly said that she wanted you to do it.” 

Marcia sighed again and started picking out the items on the list so Amethyst could check her out on the family account.

Several minutes later, Marcia exited the elevator on the hotel's top floor and turned towards the penthouse door. The door looked different from the guest rooms, and Marica knew she was in the right place. 

Giving the door a loud knock, she waited for someone to answer the door. After almost a minute, the door opened to reveal a make-up-free Anetra in an oversized hoodie that had a faded logo for the Taekwondo Championships.. 

“Thank god, this migraine is killing me.” She looked relieved to see Marcia holding the paper bag. 

Marcia passed over the bag, “I don’t know why your girlfriend couldn’t do this for you.” She blatantly said.

Anetra opened the door further, tilting her head at Marcia “My girlfriend? What do you mean by…” her voice trailed off as she thought to herself.”Oh! Did you think Aura is my girlfriend?” She asked with an amused smile.

Before Marcia could stumble out an embarrassed answer, she felt something small and feathered brush against her legs. 

“Oh shit, Fuego! Get back here!” Anetra brushed past Marcia and walked quickly, chasing whatever escaped from the penthouse down the hall and rounded the corner.  

Anetra returned a few seconds later, and Marcia felt dumbfounded when she saw what Anetra was carrying.

“Y-You have a duck.” was all they managed to say. The more they got to know Anetra, the less they understood about rich people. 

“Yeah, let me take him to the kiddie pool with his siblings, and you can wait in here,” Anetra said casually as she led Marcia inside the penthouse. Marcia waited on the expensive leather couch in the dimly lit living room, wondering why the rich couldn’t have normal pets like the rest of society. 

Marcia heard the door Anetra went through open and immediately asked her, “So you and Aura aren’t dating?” Might as well jump right into it. 

Anetra shook her head and sat next to Marcia, “No, we’re just close friends because of our families. Plus, Aura has a girlfriend, she’s just been in Connecticut for work most of the time.”

“Oh,” Marcia responded quietly, as she felt relief at this news. “I’m sorry I assumed that you two were dating. I just see you two together all the time and I just kinda figured.” She shrugged, trying to explain her assumptions.

Anetra smiled gently “Don’t worry about it. Our parents thought the same thing for years until Aura brought home Robin a couple of years ago.” She laughed as Marcia felt herself relax slightly. 

“Then why did you give me your phone number?” Marcia asked.

“It’s because I like you, Marcia,” Anetra admitted. “It took me so long to try to talk to you, Aura had to walk me through how to start a conversation with you” She let out a small laugh.

“Really? You like me?” Marcia realized that if they knew Anetra was single, they would have probably picked up on the social cues much quicker.

Anetra nodded, “I do, I’ve been going to the store every day to see you since you haven’t texted me yet.” She gave a sheepish smile, “I’m hoping the reason why is because you didn’t want me to be a cheater.”

Marcia nodded, smiling as well “It is, yeah. And I thought you were just trying to be my friend.”

“So can I take you out on a date next Saturday night?” Anetra offered.

“I would love that.” Marcia beamed as they accepted, “Just something that’s not too expensive for a first date, okay?” they said taking another look around the penthouse.

The two were interrupted by Marcia’s phone alarm chiming, and Marcia slipped it out of their skirt pocket to see that the casting call just started. “Oh, I’ve got to go to an audition. I’ll be sure to text you later.” They said as they stood up. 

Anetra stood up after Marcia, “Wait, I need to give you something before you go.” she said as she walked to the paper bag she had dropped off by the door. She pulled out the chocolate bar and handed it to Marcia. “It’s your favorite, it’s why I put it on the list.” 

“Thank you, but don’t you like them? You’ve been buying them all week.” Marica pointed out. 

“I don’t really like sweets, I’ve just been giving those to Aura and Robin,” Anetra admitted shyly. “But I realized that you only talked to me when I bought them, which I know sounds silly but I thought that-”

Marcia cut her off from the other girl’s rambling “No, it’s really sweet.” She ran her thumbs over the wrapper of the bar. “So I’m guessing we aren’t going to this chocolatier on our date?”

“As long as I’m with you, we can go wherever in the city you want.” 

#anarcia #rpdr s15 #rpdr fanfiction #my fics #my writing #one shots

[secretsandwriting]

Hey, when I want to read your 19 days did it takes me to your old blog where it is deleted. :(

I gotchu

19 Days

Xisumavoid x reader

“You really should sleep!” Apparently it was Mumbo’s turn to check in on you. Almost all of the other hermits had come and after the first few told the others they didn’t think you were doing well, you had had daily visits.

“I’m fine Mumbo. Just really busy. No I won’t go to bed. Yes, i’ve eaten in the past day. Yes I would love to see any projects you’ve been working on once I’m finished with this. And yes, nothing you say will change my mind.” He just stood there for a minute looking at your turned back before sighing.

“You really aren’t fine but I’ll leave you alone for now.” You listened as Mumbo left, letting out a breath of relief. Some of the other hermits didn't accept your answer so easily. Moving on from that thought, you got back to work. You may have been one of the only hermits who hadn’t finished your base, but you were probably one of the more rich hermits from all the work you had done to gather resources.

A few hours after Mumbo left, you heard someone else approaching. Hoping they would go away if you ignored them long enough, you continued working. It didn’t take long for you to hear a sigh, but instead of leaving they just came closer.

“They really weren’t exaggerating. You’re running yourself ragged.” You glanced back to be met with the sight of the admin sitting on one of your shulker boxes.

“You need to go to sleep. Before you argue, I checked. It’s been 19 days since the last time you slept! I don’t even know how you’ve managed to stay awake for that long.”

“I just have a lot I need to do. Once I’m done, I’ll sleep. Until then, I need to keep working on this.”

“Y/n! If you step foot outside at night, you’ll be dead in a second. There is no later. You need to sleep. This isn’t healthy or safe. Not only that but everyone’s worried about you!”

“Like I said before. I’ll sleep when I’m done!” You turned away from him so you could go back to work, but before you could do much Xisuma sighed again before you felt yourself being lifted off the ground.

“Then I guess we’ll do this the hard way.” He adjusted you so that he was carrying you bridal style and his armor wouldn’t dig into your side. Your arms quickly found themselves around his neck to help you feel like you wouldn’t fall. Not like Xisuma was going to drop you but it still made you feel a little more secured.

“Put me down!”

“No. Since you won’t take care of yourself. I’m going to take care of you. Maybe if you had actually listened to someone, you wouldn’t be in this situation.” After that, he shushed you every time you tried to talk.

His base wasn’t to far from your set up so it wasn’t long before you found yourself being set down at a table and a few seconds later a bowl of soup was set in front of you.

“While you eat, I’m going to get a few things set up for you. Remember, I am the admin and I will look into the code to find you if you leave.” Xisuma didn't use his admin status like this very often which gave you an idea of how pissed off he was.

While you still have a lot of work to do, running didn’t sound like something you wanted to do right now, and it had been a while since your last meal… Xisuma was a good cook, you decided as you ate. A really good cook. It was amazing.

He came back right about the time you finished and ushered you into a bathroom, the tub was already filled with steaming water and there was a stack of clothes next to some towels. With a request to not fall asleep in the bath, and permission to use anything you needed Xisuma left you alone. Closing the door behind him.

And while you could fit through the window if you climbed onto the sink, a bath did sound nice, as well as Xisuma’s shirt to change into after. How Xisuma was so amazing that he got the water temperature absolutely perfect was beyond you. But you weren’t complaining when the hot water soothed your aching muscles.

After soaking for a good chunk of time, there was no clock so you had no idea how long you were actually in there, you got out and dressed. His clothes were a bit big and baggy but they were comfortable and smelled good.

Xisuma seemed to be looking at some admin thing when you came out but quickly closed it and got up. Gently leading you with a hand on your back to the bed where he made sure you laid down before he said goodnight and left.

Forcing yourself to concentrate on things so you wouldn’t fall asleep you waited until all the lights were off and you couldn’t hear anything for a while. Once you thought it was safe, you quietly got up and left the room. Only to get lifted up again.

“Oh come on!”

“I figured you would do something like this. You’re too stubborn for your own good.” This time he carried you to a different room, probably his, judging by the fact it looked lived in. “Please remember I tried to let you go to sleep on your own first.” He deposited you on the bed before he got in himself and you were trapped in his arms. “Goodnight Y/n.”

Xisuma let out sigh of relief when you passed out within a few minutes.

You woke to the sun setting through the window, which probably meant you slept all day too. You felt a hand run through your hair and it brought back a few memories of a conversation Xisuma had with Tango that you had partially woken up to.

“Are you starting to wake up?” The hand in your hair stopped and you felt him start to move away. While you were awake enough to be aware, you weren’t awake enough to care, so you pulled him closer and moved so you were on him enough he wouldn’t really be able to get up without completely disrupting you.

“Not ready to face the world yet?” You just groaned and he snorted. “I get that, would you at least be willing to let me get up?”

“Not until you, in the words of Tango, ‘just get it over and confess already’ ‘til then, I’m staying here.” You could feel how Xisuma froze under you from that and you just waited, while you hadn’t hear what the confession was, Tango’s tone gave it away.

“So you heard that.”

“Lil bit.”

“Y/n… I love you.”

“I love you too."

#hermitcraft #xisumavoid x reader #xisuma x reader #hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft xisuma #i still dont know how to tag hermitcraft