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yeehawbvby · 6 months

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 44*

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Magnus... prepares you for your date.. I guess.

Author’s Note: WE’RE BACK BABYYYYYY

Thanks so much to everyone for being so patient during my hiatus!! I definitely needed some time to just slow down a bit (and to reiterate from my recent update, things still will be slow! But the time off was nice), and I really appreciate the kindness and support in that decision :3 It means so much to me, I wish I could better express it to y’all.

I hope that this is a good chapter for jumping back into things! I did my best to recap the past few chapters a little bit for those of you who need a small refresher, as well as incorporate a small time skip (like, 2 weeks tops).

If you're not into that, I hope the smut makes up for it <3

As always, I hope you enjoy, and I’d love to hear your thoughts! x Also, please see the comments for another author's note once you finish reading this chapter ^^

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

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Seb had first seen magic as something spooky and surreal. Nothing more than a new and weird thing that fuzzied up the lines between the fiction he took comfort in, and the burdens of reality. It was a completely understandable take for him to have felt that way, and I had been surprised that he was so chill about introducing it back into his life through me!

That said, I thought he’d still keep it to a minimum.

But!!!

Ever since our visit to Magnus a few weeks ago — again, a visit that held the intention of Seb merely becoming a little reacquainted with the arcane, as we’d both expected him to keep his involvement small — learning magic has morphed into a bit of a passion project for him. A means to become as badass as his magic-wielding OCs and shit. It’s rad as hell. Kinda hot too. I dunno what it is about magic, but it does things to me, dude.

When Seb isn’t programming, and we aren’t spending time alone together, he’s now enthusiastically re-familiarizing himself with his rusty arcane skill set as well as indulging in some new knowledge. And likewise, when I’m not farming, taking care of Cannoli, or spending time with either of my partners alone, I’m honing my rapidly-increasing skills as a mage.

The necklace Welwick gave me has been working wonders for my abilities. Like, I now have that sixth-sense Magnus vaguely talks about from time-to-time, for when something magical is nearby. That could just be a result of my growth as a mage in general, but I think it’s more fun to imagine this little trinket siphoning a bunch of cool shit into me.

Also, clairvoyance doesn’t come to me so randomly anymore, aside from the occasional flash of something in my head! It’s getting a bit easier to tell the difference between dreams and a distant reality during my sleep, too. Similarly to… well, fucking everything else related to magic, I guess, it’s sort of a gut-feeling above all else.

This nifty little thing has also allowed me to practice my psychicism in the way that Magnus always had to resort to. For him to predict the future, he must conduct a spell and perform a weird ritual of sorts. He saves it for when things feel “off,” like when I moved to Pelican town… and for when he gets eager, and wants to know something right then and there. Like when he predicted when I’d be coming over to drink that nasty-ass potion that all but confirmed I’m a mage.

The process requires copious amounts of mana – another reason why he so rarely does it. But because of the extra help from my necklace, as well as my seemingly natural talent as an oracle that I’m assuming Grandpa passed down to me in some way, it doesn’t drain me nearly as much as other spellcasters of my skill level. Even Magnus and Camilla seem to get a bit more nauseated by the process than I do.

Throughout all this, all things romantic have been settling in too; things have gotten much more cozy. At the start of this journey in a polycule of sorts, the concept of openly loving two people in the same room was nothing short of intimidating. Now, it’s as natural as breathing. And while I wouldn’t say it seems like Seb and Magnus are becoming intimate with one another, they’ve definitely been spending more time alone, which makes me happy. Reassures me a bit as well. It’s a nice reminder that I’m not some sort of… I dunno. A selfish hussy. Or something. This concept still feels novel to me in some ways.

Both of my lovers are vague about what happens during their one-on-one meetings. Can’t tell if something’s going on, or if they just know the concept intrigues me, and they agreed to fuck with me a bit. Y’know, get my imagination going, for funsies. I mean, Seb’s crush on the older wizard is still as strong as ever, so I’m secretly hoping that they’re preparing to do some canoodling of their own.

I wish I knew what was going on in those pretty heads of theirs… seems as though mind-reading just isn’t gonna be a thing for me.

Whatever. I’m not bitter.

(Yes I am.)

Speaking of canoodling – I’m headed to Magnus’ place in a few minutes. It’ll be the first time we’ve been alone together in our past few meetings, since Seb can’t make it until later. The poor, emo cave goblin was up working until early this morning. Magnus apparently wants to take me somewhere new today, so it kinda works out, I guess!

After my usual morning routine of farming (the pumpkins feel like they’re taking forever to grow in, but they’re almost there!) and eating, I quickly showered, dried my hair, tossed on some light makeup, and dressed myself. I went for an almost-ankle length, dark and rusty orange, pleated skirt; a cozy and thick, cream-colored, mock neck sweater; and a big, olive-green ribbon to thread around my half-up hairdo. It’s getting to the point in autumn where it basically feels like winter, so I should be safe from sweating too much in all this.

Once I’ve grabbed my satchel and a jacket to complete the look, I make my way outside. The first thing I do upon exiting the building is remember that I haven’t checked the mail yet. I probably should, just in case Magnus or Lewis have anything important for me… ugh.

Unable to resist, I go out of my way a bit first, stomping on some leaves that have blown over from all the trees surrounding my land. Cannoli, who has been outside most of the morning, runs over to join in. I scoop him up with an evil chuckle while he’s distracted.

“Gotcha, punk.”

He meows at me, seemingly pissed, but then purrs after I pat a few smooches onto his head. I hold the little fella in both arms as I open my mailbox with outstretched fingertips. I grab its contents, nudge it shut with my elbow, and sit on the stoop to read what I’ve gotten, with Cannoli staying put in my lap.

“One from Lewis…” I rip it open. “S’just about Spirit’s Eve, nothing major,” I mumble to myself as I shuffle through the envelopes. “Some Joja shit… gross.” I scoff and tear that one in half as Cannoli abandons me, giving me some more space to work with.

The next letter is in a bright blue envelope with deep purple stars outlining it, each twinkling as though electrically or magically lit. I would normally assume based on the fancy casing that this is from Magnus, but it isn’t labeled, which tells me otherwise. I don’t really sense anything, y’know, magicky about it either. Weird.

I stand up and go inside, tossing the Joja ads in the trash and before plopping the rest of my mail onto the table. I sit down and cautiously open the blue one, not wanting to damage the pretty stationary too much. Now that it’s in my hand on its own, I can feel that there’s something other than writing inside of it.

The paper itself is blue, this one lighter and more vivid than the envelope. The ink is a deep indigo and the words look like they were written with a sparkly gel pen. And beneath it all is a tiny, gold-painted walnut, still in its shell.

That doesn’t seem very safe to eat. I toss it across the room to the small waste bin between my bedside table and the door, hoping I make the shot. It lands in with a satisfying plink.

Alex Mullner could never ball like this. He’d weep – no, he’d propose – had he seen such skill!

…Gross. I don’t want that.

After shimmying that thought away, I turn back to the azure note. It reads:

“We can do great things, you and I.

Forage a rainbow shell and leave it in the train station Lost and Found box if you’re interested. I’ll make it worth your while.

I’m counting on you, kid.”

It’s not even signed by anyone… This is ominous as hell. Part of me wants to ignore it, but I’m also kinda scared not to, y’know? What if something bad happens if I don’t comply or find a way to respond? I mean, this person knows where I live, and is likely keeping things anonymous for a reason.

Or… it could be some sorta creepy jape by Sam or something, and I’m overthinking as per usual.

I’ll think about that more later… for now, I just wanna get to my purple-haired boyfriend.

I shuffle through the rest of the mail once more to double check that nothing is too urgent before heading back outside.

_______________

“Oy,” I call out as I enter Magnus’ tower, immediately turning my gaze toward the coat rack instead of looking for him. “Where—“ As I adjust my line of sight, I find Magnus just a few feet away, a cheeky glare on his face directed towards me as he waters his houseplants. “Oh.” I blush, embarrassed by how annoying my loud intrusion was. “Hi.”

Magnus doesn’t seem to mind. He chuckles, places down his watering can, and strides over to greet me. “Good morning, my heart.”

That pet name never fails to get me all tingly, oh my goodness.

Before I can tippy-toe to indicate that I wanna kiss him, he’s already bending down to my level and scooping my face into his hands. I match the action, cupping his rosy cheeks. Unexpectedly, Magnus kisses me hard, causing me to stumble back against the door.

“Mmf!” I squeak into the kiss before meeting his intensity. Makes him smile.

He doesn’t show any signs of wanting to stop, our teeth tapping together a bit as he continues to intertwine our lips and tongues while we find a compatible rhythm. Releasing a palm from my cheek, Magnus grips the door frame behind me before dragging his opposing palm further from my face, weaving his fingers in the hair near my nape. The action prompts a dreamy hum from me.

Yoba. I want him.

As the wizard begins to kiss down my jaw and onto what little neck I have showing, I breathily murmur, “What about those plans you had for us?”

“You needn’t worry about that,” he mumbles against my earlobe, taking his hand away from my hair to lower the collar of my sweater. “We have plenty of time.”

He eagerly dives back down, leaving light kisses and love bites on my neck. My hands weave into his amethyst tresses as I giggle. The sound comes out airy; in contrast, a syrupy laugh escapes Magnus and vibrates against my skin.

“Mag–” A harder suck that’ll definitely leave a darker mark just below my jaw cuts me off. “Ah~”

Smirking against my skin, Magnus prompts, “Go on.”

God, he sounds so smug. It’s so sexy. I subtly shake my head and roll my eyes, a smile never leaving my face. “Nevermind,” I whisper, bringing his mouth back to mine.

Magnus lifts me up in one swift motion as he accepts my affection, carrying me away from the entrance bridal-style. I open one of my eyes to take a peek at where we’re going. As I do so, he pulls away to watch his step while we descend to the basement.

“What’re we doing down here?” I ask, knowing this could go one of two ways:

Either Magnus is teasing the shit out of me, and he’s taking me to his hall of portals so we can go… wherever; or, he simply decided he wanted to get frisky somewhere other than his bedroom.

“You’re a smart girl,” he answers as he nudges the door open with his foot. His irises are like rubies. “I’m sure you’ve pieced it together already.”

“Maybe I just want some confirmation.”

“Maybe you need to practice patience, my dear,” Magnus teases back.

“Maybe I’m just not a patient person, my dear.” Hm… feels weird to call him something other than Magnus or wizard. I don’t hate it, though.

I drown the tinglies in my tummy by hoisting myself a bit higher with the help of Magnus’ sturdy shoulders, leaving a few open-mouthed kisses on his neck. The action prompts goosebumps across his skin.

“Heheh–” I begin to evilly laugh at his reaction, but Magnus releases me from his grip, scaring the everliving shit out of me. “Ack!” He catches me mid-air using magic, allowing me to settle myself down without getting hurt. I glare at him the entire time, pretending my heart isn’t beating a bajillion times per minute. “That wasn’t nice,” I chirp with my brows furrowed, barely above a whisper.

It’s Magnus’ turn for a menacing chuckle as he leads me to the couch where I usually do my studies; the one closest to the western wall of the room.

“I thought you would enjoy the thrill.”

“Clearly you know nothing about me, wiz.”

Magnus’ eyes — which had shifted to their natural maroon again by the end of our short journey — are crimson once more. As we slow to a halt in front of the sofa, the absolute skyscraper of a man cages me in, his hands clutching the purple back piece of the furniture and forcing me to stumble into a sitting position. Wide-eyed and with heat creeping between my thighs, I lean back and look up at my partner.

Then, a sadistic, almost lazy grin creeps across his features while he leans down, moving his hands to grip my sides once his previous stance probably grew uncomfy. He’s almost entirely crouching to level with me.

“I know more than you realize,” he points out. Ominous.

I fidget with my long sleeves as Magnus’ lips draw closer to my ear, his breath on my neck and face sending a shiver down my spine.

His hands slide lower while he kisses just below my earlobe, before continuing, “How many people out there, at this very moment, can say they know precisely what makes you squirm?” His voice is low and gravelly, and he punctuates his sentence by squeezing my hips hard, pulling a sigh from me. Proving his point with ease.

This prick actually waits a moment for me to answer his question, his head still hovering closely next to mine. “Well?”

It takes me a sec to register any form of language until I blink out of my horny fog and respond, “I mean… not many, I guess.” My brain has kinda just blocked out any sexual partners I had prior to Seb and Magnus, given none of them could hold a candle to these men.

The elemental grows quieter as he proceeds, “Alright. And how many can claim they’ve known you far prior to your present lifetime?” His hands drag off my hips, now resting on the red velvet cushions.

The cockiness, greediness, and complete possessiveness of his follow-up makes me shudder. Has me choking back embarrassing sounds and stuff. Makes it hard to speak.

“J-just you.”

“Veeery good.” Yoba, so much praise… my poor kinky heart can’t take this. “In that case–” Magnus brings his face to my view, and manually tilts my head by the chin. After drawing closer, he whispers against my quivering lips, “I’d say on the basis of those two factors alone that I know you better than most, wouldn’t you agree?”

I inhale shakily. He grins knowingly. “Yes…” I could barely hear my own voice. It’s as if Magnus has me under a spell… but he doesn’t this time. He’s just that captivating.

Mirroring my volume – fucking tease – he lilts, “Good girl.” Then, he pulls away, leaving me yearning for more kisses.

Fuck.

Standing upright, he puts out his palm for me to take. My head feels swimmy as I oblige without question, and he replaces my spot, urging me to try to straddle him. Doesn’t work. Skirt’s too long.

“Um… hold on…”

I get up from the half-kneeling position I was in and simply remove the skirt altogether. Magnus chuckles as I struggle to find more words, feeling the hot redness of my cheeks spread down my neck. Why do I feel so shy right now?

Beaming with his brows raised, he claims, “How bold of you.”

“What else was I gonna do?” I quip. It came out meeker than I’d wanted it to, but Magnus pays no mind to that.

He shrugs, taking both my hands in his as I settle back onto his lap. His erection is apparent now that I’m sitting on it. Mmmmm.

“I merely assumed you would roll up the fabric.”

I close my eyes and lean forward further to rest in defeat against his silk, navy button-down, before copying his shrug. He has a good point.

Magnus, sensing my unease, exhales jovially through his nose, before reassuring me, “Worry not, dear.” After unweaving our fingers, he wraps his arms around my waist. “Your haste is more than welcome.”

I grip the fabric of his shirt in both fists and groan into it. “T’still embarrassing though…” I complain, my voice muffled by the fabric.

Magnus moves his hands, now cupping my ass in each one. “Let me shift your mind away from that, then,” he purrs above my ear.

I tilt my head so that my face isn’t being consumed by his chest anymore. “How the fuck are you so smooth?”

“I don’t necessarily mean to be.”

It makes sense, I guess. He’s been around for a thousand – or two, or whatever it is – years. He’s had more than enough practice. “Of course not…”

I sigh. Then, I slip just under his face, leaving featherlight pecks along his jawline. He giggles a bit. “That tickles…”

“Yeah?”

My instinctive laughter comes out menacing and gremlin-like. I attack him with more little kisses, paired with ten wiggly fingers against his sides. And oh boy, I’ve never heard such high pitched or loud noises come from this man.

“C-cease yourself!”

“Never!” I proclaim, nearly cackling at this point. I’ve never seen him laugh this hard, and god, it’s fucking adorable.

I keep myself planted atop him and do my best to dodge his swats towards me as he lays himself down, keeling over. Magnus lets out a snort that puts down my guard for a moment, and before I know it, he’s finally grappling my wrists, taking claim of them on either side of his face. The action pulls me down, bumping my forehead into his.

Magnus winces while I let out a quick and half-assed “Ouch!” before laughing a little more. I rest my face in the crevice between his head and our arms to recuperate. I gotta breathe oh my god and my abs hurt.

When I come back up, Magnus is giving me sort of a funny look. Like, he’s still blushing (eyes included) and smiling, but I feel like I’ve never seen this exact expression before.

“What?”

His lips curl up further before shaking his head slightly and answering, “I… your laughter is so beautiful.” My eyes widen a little, as does my smile. “I love you so much. Come here.”

As the words leave his mouth and before I have a chance to verbally return the sentiment, he’s removing his hold on my wrists and tugging me into a deep, slow, and much more passionate kiss than the almost-feral ones we shared upstairs. It still leaves my tummy fluttering and my heart racing just as hastily.

Once we grow a little more heated, I find myself accidentally grinding against Magnus’ arousal a bit; and once Magnus realizes it as well, his hands find refuge on my butt again, aiding my movements.

Sucks how that weird potion I drank to become a mage made me more athletic and cardiovascularly healthy, but it didn’t actually fix any of my joint issues. Even just this gentle rocking with my legs spread out this wide is making my hips cramp up a bit.

“Sore?” My partner murmurs into the kiss.

“How’d you know?”

“T’was a gut feeling.”

“That sure is a fancy way of saying you were in my head again.”

“Damn.” He breaks, an amused huff escaping him. “I almost fooled you.”

I sit up and very lightly punch his chest a few times. Asserting my dominance, for sure.

After a few hits, I glare down at him, palms pressed against his chest. Magnus glares up at me, thumbs tracing small circles against my sides. He scans my body as he gnaws his lower lip.

This is hot.

He eventually speaks up, his orbs red as can be. “Are you finished throwing your little tantrum?” His usually sweet tone was replaced by something still honeyed, but more gravelly and domineering.

That was hotter. Fuck.

I swallow thickly and nod, subconsciously stimming with one of the lower buttons on his top. “Yeah.”

His eyes drink in my body again. “Perfect.” Next, Magnus tugs me by my hips, giving me a little lift to bypass his arms as he all but plants me on his fucking face.

“What are you–” He cuts me off with a bite to my inner thigh. A heady sigh leaves me.

With his pupils blown wide, he suggests, “This is surely easier on your hips given how much less you need to stretch them, no?”

“I-I guess.” I hide the lower half of my face in some of my hair. I feel so vulnerable. In a good way, but still. I don’t think I’ve ever ridden someone’s face before. I voice this concern into his brain, too timid to say it out loud.

Magnus repositions our forms slightly, giving his neck more comfort as he lets his head lay down flat against the cushion, with a little room to spare between his scalp and the arm of the sofa. I peer back at his legs. His left is dangling off the opposite end of the couch and probably bumping into the bookshelf a bit, while the right is planted on the floor beneath us.

“Would you like to try?” The wizard finally asks as I bring my gaze back to his.

I take a sec to contemplate it. On one hand, I feel weird being so exposed. On the other… How is this really any different from being eaten out while I’m laying down? Some fingers of my left hand are twirling a soft strand of Magnus’ hair. Those on my right are still tangled in my own (h/c) tresses, which continue giving my mouth and chin some privacy.

Despite the need to stim out my nerves, I still nod my answer to him.

After being given the OK, Magnus begins to softly kiss my inner thigh. In between, he orders, “If you want to stop, let me know.”

“‘Kay,” I smile.

Gently, Magnus tugs my panties to the side and lowers me down. After a single, lingering kiss to my lower lips that’s already got my head feeling funny, he spreads me open and licks a gentle, pointed-tongued circle around my bud. I’m instantly turned to putty, it’s a little embarrassing actually. The small grip that I had on his hair tightens, and I rock slightly into Magnus’ proud hum, accidentally throwing him off-track. I shyly meet his view to apologize to him, but before I can say a word, he’s finding a better spot for his tongue.

“Fuck,” I moan, my eyes fluttering shut.

My fingers drop my hair and move to my mock-neck, using that to fidget instead. This feels so fucking good, but my anxieties over the positioning still haven’t died down yet.

I abandon the clutch I had on the wizard’s hair and rest my hand on the arm of the couch behind his crown. With the way his nails are threatening to dig into the curves of my hips, I have just enough leverage to let him lick how he wants to while moving myself accordingly.

The slight change in position startles him, I think — he telepathically checks in with me, “Are you doing alright?”

“Yes, Magnus~” I verbally respond. The way he growls at my enthusiastic reply sends a palpable wave of excitement through me.

With each swipe of Magnus’ tongue, I lose myself further. My hips grind with more confidence, and my sweater-filled hand starts drawing downward on its own, now leaving only my chin beneath my collar. I curse under my breath while he adds some more pressure, and let out a startlingly loud mewl as he repositions his left hand to nearly meet his lips, sliding two long digits inside of me. That can’t be comfortable for him by any means with the way his arm is contorting, but I’ll be lying if I try to claim that it doesn’t feel fucking incredible.

“Holy shit,” I cry.

He moans against my clit. It sends a vibration through me, and I moan as I lower myself a little more, pushing his fingers deeper inside of myself. Is this what people who are able to ride dick feel like?!

“F-fuh–”

“Is it too much?” he nonverbally inquires.

“N-noh god, I love you, y-you’re perfect, Iloveyou.” Each word proves to be more of a struggle to get out as I feel myself beginning to peak. He chuckles beneath me, adding fuel to the fire. “God, Mag~”

I can’t physically move any faster – again, bad joints and all that jazz. He’s the captain now. There’s a subtle pounding in my ears, and I can’t tell if it’s my adrenaline, or blood flow, or whatever, or if it’s something else outside of myself entirely. I pay no mind to it, not caring what’s happening around me. Too fucked-out.

“So close,” I breathe. “Please, I–”

“Wait juuust a little longer, sweetheart.”

I whine in frustration. “W-why?” I ask, just barely above a whisper, looking down while complying by slowing myself to a halt. His eyes crinkle, indicating that he’s smiling, while continuing to lick my pussy and probe in and out of my cunt.

He doesn’t give me an answer.

“Oh, wow.”

Seb does?!

Well, kinda.

I yelp, head bolting up and left towards the source. Standing near the entrance to this room is fucking Sebastian, his dark indigo eyes darker with want, and his grin just as shit-eating as ever.

Magnus still hasn’t stopped.

I look back and forth between Seb and Magnus a few times, my mind racing and chest heaving and throat dry as I can’t verbalize any of the confused thoughts that I’m having amidst what’s happening all around me.

Seb is slowly drawing closer to us. Magnus is working me even harder, as if he’s trying to pry my orgasm out of me now of all times. He can’t curl his fingers much from this position, but he can sure as hell fuck me with ‘em. I try to steady the slight bounce each thrust of his digits causes to no avail.

…Yoba above, did they fucking plan this?!

Magnus coaxes a moan out of me, but my eyes stay trained on Seb. His grin widens and a soft chuckle emits from him as he listens and watches in on the action.

When Seb reaches the couch, he places a palm on the armrest before leaning forward to almost match my height. He then removes my hand from its hold on my sweater and takes my newly-exposed chin between his thumb and forefinger. In turn, I instinctively grasp his wrist, probably squeezing him a lil’ too hard while I try to prolong my pleasure as per Magnus’ orders.

“You said you were close, yeah?” Seb asks.

“Y-yeah,” It comes out whiney, and Magnus picks up his pace. “Fuck.”

My eyes threaten to close, but I keep them locked into Seb’s. I don’t miss the way his view trails down to my tits, clearly a little enthralled by their slight jiggling underneath my sweater. My prior concern morphs into a breathy laugh. I look down to the wizard, and he’s still focused on my face. Reading my every reaction with those sparkly, red eyes. God.

“Please Magnus, I—“

Seb’s grip on my chin strengthens, pulling my view back to meet his. “You wanna cum, yeah?”

“Yes, please, Seb~” Yoba, I sound so desperate. I don’t care anymore though.

“Be a dear and cum for him, then.”

This is so absurd.

Not in a bad way, by any means, but just… holy shit I wasn’t expecting this.

Near-immediately after Seb’s command, I clench around Magnus’ digits, grinding against his taste buds and urging him further inside of me. Probably smooshing his face a little bit with my thighs too. Sorry, dude.

Between his hasty pokes and the delicious alternation between licking and sucking, my high hits me like a fucking train. It makes me feel a bit lightheaded until Seb catches my lips with his own to ground me.

After however many otherworldly seconds of whining against Seb’s tongue and probably suffocating poor Magnus, the feeling simmers away. Once he senses I’ve settled down a bit, Magnus repeats his earlier motion in the opposite direction — he softly repositions me away from his face and nearer to his lap, before wiping my excess wetness from his features.

Neither of them say anything. I look between the two of them, who are approvingly peering between each other and myself.

When I find my voice again, I speak up. “So, like, what the fuck—”

“Before you ask,” Seb starts, “this was mostly coincidental.”

I furrow my brows. “What?”

Magnus sits upright, and just when I’m about to shift some more to give him some room, he scoops me up and repositions himself so that his spine is against the back of the couch while my legs are draped across his lap. I cross my arms and lean my shoulder and head against his chest, waiting for more of an explanation.

“He requested to borrow a book to assist him in falling asleep,” Magnus informs me.

Seb cuts in to add with a slight hand-raise, “Drank too much coffee overnight and figured my own books at home might just distract me too much.”

I nod subtly. “When did this happen?” I ask them both.

“When I got here,” Seb claims, “ready to just steal one anyway.”

Seb and Magnus share a cheeky glare with one another. Seb’s is paired with a menacingly goofy smile. He then wraps around the front of the furniture so that he can sit next to Magnus and behind me. I crane my head so that I’m able to see him, albeit upside-down.

Sebby continues on, while taking advantage of the angle of my throat to murmur against it. “But when I heard those pretty sounds of yours…” he trails off, planting an open-mouthed kiss against my goose-bumping skin. He knows I’ve gotten the gist of it by now.

This lil perv definitely asked Magnus outright if he could come down here to see me in action.

“I hope it hasn’t made you uncomfortable,” Magnus chimes in.

“No, I mean, it was surprising, but like…” I sigh, laying down, my upper body now splayed across Seb’s while my lower body remains on Magnus. I can’t bring myself to meet their eyes as I softly admit, “It was… god that was so cool.”

Both of them chuckle, Magnus squeezing my thigh as Seb scruffs up my hair a bit. I do my best to flatten it back into place, then direct my attention towards the wizard, lazily pointing at him once a thought pops into my head.

“I’ve got a question for you.”

He cocks his head slightly. “What is good?”

God, he’s trying so hard to be ~hip.~ He’s so cute. I do my best not to laugh at him.

“Are you straight?”

“I doubt it.”

He seems to ponder the question further for a moment while I give Seb a sneaky thumbs up. As if to tell him, without a single word shared, “Maybe you have a chance with him too!” Seb rolls his eyes and nudges my hand away, a playful smirk on his face.

I draw my eyes back to Magnus once he continues, “I’ve predominantly had women as partners for as far back as I can recollect, but it’s not as though I’m opposed to relations with other genders.” I glimpse at Seb, unable to hide my mischievous grin. I could never be an actor. “Why do you ask?”

“Eh, just curious.”

“That devilish smile you’re wearing tells me something else.”

Damn, he saw right through me. Who woulda thunk it?

I completely dodge him.

“Don’t worry about it.” I pair the phrase with some finger guns.

“So,” Seb diverts the conversation, “would you mind if I just crash on a couch? That way I don’t have to worry about making the trip back here later.”

“Go right ahead,” Magnus smiles warmly at him. Then, he turns his attention to me. “Are you ready to go?”

I look down at my form. I’m still skirtless, and I’m probably fucking sopping given what just happened. Plus, there’s spit down there too now. Gross.

“Uh. Lemme clean up real quick.” I shakily crawl off my partners and gather my skirt in my arms. “Should I meet you back down here, or..?”

Magnus shakes his head before answering verbally, “I’ll follow you in a moment.”

“You got it.” I turn to Seb, scurrying over to give him a kiss. “See you later, nerd.”

“Yeah whatever.” Rolling his eyes and laughing, Seb pulls me back down with one finger hooked into my collar. After a soft peck, he says, “Love you. Have fun with the geezer.”

Magnus leers over at Seb. “Quiet, child.”

I snort at the exchange. “Love ya too, Sebby.” I part with a two-fingered salute before making my way upstairs.

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spooky-circuits · 2 months

Note

can we get another pair of brothers meet we already got clay and jd seeing each other after 20 years, what about some bruse or floyd i will love to see how they will react to each other or the obvious (seeing as he the only one that following the snack pack) clay?

Floyd had finally found his way to vacation island thanks to the map Fuzzbert had given him. Branch had started yelling a lot about that for some reason before just sighing and admitting Floyd would need it if he wanted to find Bruce and Floyd very much did.

There were a lot of moments when Floyd had wanted to see his older brothers again. Especially on those days where he was regretting leaving home and he desperately wanted some reassurance he was doing the right thing. Hearing that his brother had a whole new family now only made him want to see him again even more.

This is how he finds himself on the beach having washed up after his raft broke apart on him. The water looked so calm he figured it would be easy but he guesses that raft building is not one of his talents. Standing up he notices himself being stared at by one of the inhabitants that’s much smaller then the rest of the people lounging on the beach. “Uh hi.” He gives what he assumes is a kid based on size a small wave. The kid gives a big smile and says. “Oh wow another troll! Daddy is going to be so happy. Do you have any candy?” Floyd looks up at the kid and goes. “Uh not on me sorry.” The kid looks disappointed at that but perks back up quickly. “That’s okay! Do you know my uncle Branch? His friends sneak me lots of candy maybe you can do that too!”

Floyds jaw drops. Uncle Branch? Than that means this is Bruce Jr. Branch had definitely forgotten to mention how big the kid was. Oh no he’s been quiet for too long better respond. “Yeah I know Branch and I’m sure I can sneak you a lolly pop or two to secure my spot as favourite uncle.” Bruce Jr tilts his head to the side. “Uncle?” Floyd is about to explain when he hears “What’s taking so long with the trash kiddo? Holy cannoli Floyd?!”

Floyd takes in the sight of his older brother. Wow he’s really changed from when they were kids but Floyd can tell he still has that self assured confidence he’s always had. “Uh hey Bruce long time no see.” Bruce smiles at him like they haven’t been apart for more then a decade. “That’s one way of putting it. Branch found you I take it? Either way it’s good to see you man.” Floyd feels a burst of joy in his chest it really is good to see Bruce again. He finally makes his way over for their reunion hug which took far too long for them to get done in both of their opinions if you asked them later.

Bruce then holds Floyd by the shoulders. “Well I’m sure Branch has told you a lot about what I’ve been up too. But I have no idea what you’ve been doing. Lets go catch up Floyd! You too Junior come meet uncle Floyd properly!” Bruce Jr looks excited likely at the potential snacks Floyd had agreed to sneak him.

Floyd is glad to be here in this moment. He wishes he had tried sooner to find his brothers but right now he’s just happy to be able to talk with his big brother. Hopefully the rest go as well as this did.

#snack attack au #trolls au

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nokingsonlyfooles · 2 months

Text

Finish the Feed and Plug the Thing(s?)

It's the thing! You know! The thing! You've seen the thing, haven't you? You're on the internet, you must like things! This one is so rare I don't even post it every day! Ooooh, maybe you should CLICK the thing?

It should be illustrated but I'm slow at that right now and I got bored with not putting up new instalments. It's got text-based steampunk marginalized techno-wizards in it, though! Magic is code and code is magic!

Today there's a new instalment!

I'm lookin for readers! And if you're reading, you gotta tell me, 'cos my hit counter is free and buggy AF. I'll never see you for sure unless you say something!

Current known readers: 3 (hi!), 1st Goalpost: 10?

Current supporters: 1 (hi Kith!), 1st Goalpost: 5?

And under the cut, a sample... er, a sample from a WIP that's only tangentially related because I need to get over the fear of showing it to people gradually or I'll never put it up anywhere. Thanks for volunteering to help me with my mental health! CW: Language, abuse, trauma, two sluts being slutty because that's how they relate to people, etc...

[Soooo... This is what I'm writing right now instead of getting the NDA out of Cyre. I know I shouldn't be, but it's getting to be like samefooding when I'm stressed. Pretty stressed due to new meds that are rewiring my brain in fun new ways, and I keep goin' back to it.

[But, honestly, Satan laid eggs in my brain, this hatched, and it's still hatching. I know I shouldn't mix my original work with toys that don't belong to me, it's tacky and possibly illegal, but so am I. I just wish I could be those things unselfconsciously. Scared to show anyone but the spouse likes it and I wanna encourage him to put himself out there more so... I'M DOIN IT FOR YOOOOOU, BABE!

[But just a contextless sample for now...]

“No, no, I prefer the kitchen. One should always serve one’s friends in the kitchen, it’s just more personable. It’s just, they used to lock me out of mine. Sharp objects, you know.”

Angel stretched across the doorway, two hands on either side. “And, are ya cool with sharp objects now?”

David waggled a hand. He brushed politely past. “Oh, more or less. I’ll give you a dramatic, screaming heads up if I have an urge to stab myself, all right? Or maybe…” He paused and laid a hand on the countertop. “Your bread box is snoring. Also, there is a sticky note on it that says, ‘Do Not Open, Not Bread’?”

“It’s Niff,” Angel said. He pulled David away. “And she sleeps with a cleaver, so… Eh, just keep ya voice down.”

“And don’t open it?”

“Yeah.”

Angel started to put the coffee together. David sat at the kitchen table, wary of opening anything at all.

“Carmine would give you a job makin weapons in a heartbeat,” Angel said, without looking over. “S’long as that metal thing don’t tire ya out like the mind control. But the rent’s free, and the food’s free — when there’s food.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice to know.”

“There’s usually some jambalaya in the fridge, since Alastor showed up.”

“He cooks?” David touched a hand to his head, blinking. “Good Lord, I think I cook. No, that’s not me. I’m sorry, I did say I had to pick up a lot of my memories second-hand. I swiped most of them off this poor, stupid kid, and I have some of his too. He cooks. It’s all very cheap and easy, but there are a lot of fancy desserts. The boy has a mad passion for fancy desserts, and he can’t afford them if he doesn’t make them himself.”

“How did you leverage your memories out of a stupid kid, if ya don’t mind my askin?”

“Well, I can’t read minds, but he can, and I happened to be living rent free in his head at the time. Coincidentally, he knew someone who knew me quite well, and he read her mind, and then I used him to read her some more…” David shook his head. “It’s weird here, but it’s not un-weird where I come from. You have no idea.” He chuckled. “Things are weird all over, to the best of my recollection. Fancy a midnight tiramisu, Mr. Dust?”

“Maybe. If ya can do me a cannoli, I’m interested…”

“Is that what they’re calling it in Italy? ‘A little midnight cannoli,’ yes. Well, perhaps not little…”

“Pretty sure I was in that film already, and if I wasn’t, I’m stealing that title. That’s porno gold.”

David rested his chin on clasped hands. “I do love movies. Are any of yours playing?”

“Lots, I got some on my phone, but before we get into that, someone better tell you: your new best friend ain’t interested in either kinda cannoli. I haven’t seen that guy get anywhere near sex or sugar, barring that muffin, so that means you haven’t either.”

David scoffed. “When we are very manly, masculine and secure, one needs must flee, screaming, from muffins and cock. What else is a real man to do?”

Angel set two coffee mugs on the table with a clunk, and leaned over David. “Any kinda sex.”

“Oooooh.” David snickered. He added a large dollop of Irish cream to each mug, then perched on his chair like an eager girl at a slumber party. “Repressed or queer?” He laughed. “Or both?”

“How is no-sex-at-all queer?”

“Well, it annoys the hets and challenges their antiquated social institutions.”

“Aw, Christ.” Angel thudded two sets of elbows on the table and put his head in one set of hands. “Don’t tell him, alright? Please don’t tell him. If I run into that guy at a leather bar, he’ll put me off sex for life… He’ll fuckin convert me!”

“Maybe you’ll convert him?”

“That’s even worse!” Angel laughed. “Oh, God, I might’ve, a couple months ago, but we been through some shit. It’s too weird. It got real weird.”

“Anything I should know?”

The spider sighed. “Probably.” He paused with a hand on his chest fluff. “I’m not a hundred-percent sure he knows. He don’t watch TV.” He shook his head and drew out his phone. “But he probably knows. At least some of it.” He offered David a single earbud.

“Is it an upper or a downer?”

“Jesus.” Angel stood and wandered behind David’s chair. “It’s so we don’t wake Niff. Ya got ears? Ya got ears goin on in there?”

David patted his own head, and flaming hairstyle, with a hand. “I must have something…” He accepted the earbud and eventually found some kind of structure that would allow it. “Ooh, I like that! It’s catchy! Is that you?”

“Fuck,” Angel fumbled his phone and closed out an app.

“Aww.”

“It’s just a demo.” He looked aside. “It’s some shit I made up when I was dissociatin. I imagined a whole dance number, but I dunno... I sounded sexier in my head.”

“You sounded sexy enough in mine.”

Angel looked up, with a brief smile. “You’re cute, Dave.”

David winced. “Sorry. My dear little namesake uses that. I don’t, but…” He sighed and shrugged. “Oh, well. He’s not here. I don’t mind it from you.” He smiled. “And there’s something about the other name you don’t like, so forget it. ‘Dave Valentine’ it is!” The smile faded. “No?”

Angel looked pained. “It’s not that, it’s… We’re havin some trouble with Vees. Ya might wanna lose the other half of that. It might getcha in trouble. And ya don’t wanna get in trouble with that guy… those guys.”

“Oh, I don’t mind changing up the last name at all,” David said. “I often do! It’s not as if I have a family I care about. I’m just awfully fond of twee little heart motifs and… and… uh… butterflies?”

Angel was clutching his phone so hard his hand was shaking. That last word even warranted a shudder.

David got up and backed away until his hip hit the counter. He leaned against it and peered into his coffee cup. He spoke softly, “Is your Mr. Vee who may or may not be fond of hearts or butterflies a work friend or a friend-friend?”

“Neither.” Angel turned away. “Work.”

“Ah.” David nodded. He toyed with the rim of his cup. “Might someone help you fill out a letter of resignation?”

Angel shook his head.

“Oh, well. If that’s how it is, that’s just how it is.” David crept a little closer and put an experimental hand near him, just on the table. When there was no objection, he smiled and left it there. “If you ever need anyone to spot you some extra concealer…” He trailed away. “Though I doubt I have your shade.” He poked at the back of his own orange hand. “Or mine, come to think of it.”

Angel looked up. He covered David’s hand with one of his own. “That mind-control thing, does that work on everyone?”

David looked pained. “I… I don’t know how it works here. I’ve met people it doesn’t work on at all, and some of them shake it off. I think… I think I’ve done some experimenting. There are other places, other parts of me that know more about it, I might go back and remember… But I don’t know if any of that applies here. I can’t guarantee it. And… That wouldn’t be safe for you, would it?”

The spider sighed. He turned away again.

The bird offered a faint smile. “I might tell him to kill himself, if Charlie lets me. If it landed, would that fix it?” He put up a hand. “If it didn’t, you could always tell him I’m an insane ass and let him take it out on me. I can’t be killed, and I have excellent pain tolerance, especially when…”

Now Angel put up a hand, and David quieted.

“She won’t let you,” the spider said. “Not like that. She thinks everyone can be better.”

“Oh, she is adorable. But we know better, don’t we?”

Angel put a casual elbow on the table and his head in his hand. He regarded David out of the corner of one eye. “You still usin extra concealer on a regular basis? Wherever the resta you is?”

“Oh, no, I prefer to damage myself now.” David smiled. “I’m freelancing!”

“Like how you don’t like sticky drinks and hate fun?”

“He’s dead,” David said flatly. He smiled again, a perfectly hideous smile. “I killed him, of course.”

Angel sat up, more shocked than surprised. “What? You? How?”

“What?” David shooed him away. “Oh, it was ages ago. A gun or something. It’s not important. I’ve quite forgotten.”

Angel frowned. He nodded. “Uh-huh. Yeah. I shot Val a whole buncha times too.” He picked up his phone. “So, the thing is…”

David pushed the phone back down to the table, scowling. “The thing is, that thing was supposed to be my father. On paper, at least. So I couldn’t do it right away. Not if I wanted to get away with it. A person has to be practical. I am a very practical person.”

[Yeah, I started writing that part just to see if it was worthwhile and I actually got David to cough up one of his three backstories, all of which are embellished to the point of absurdity but partly true. I've been meaning to write those out forever and this tricked my brain into doing it. I had to put him on equal footing with another traumatized person and pour Irish coffee on him in a corporeal form that gets drunk for real, but I got it out of him! So I went back to write the beginning and now it's *checks* 69 pages long. Oh. Nice!

[It's gotta go up somewhere because I can't help but say it's canon for David, but maybe he just did a shitton of god drugs and passed out in front of Amazon Prime, ya know? That's probably it.]

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the-himawari-otome · 2 years

Text

[Piofiore no Banshou] Character CD Vol. 5 Orlok Translation

Mini Drama: Viaggio in Firenze

Summary: Orlok and Lili take a trip to Florence together...

Translated by ear so it might not be 100% accurate.

･ﾟ･:,｡★ translation under the cut ★,｡･:･ﾟ

Mm… mmm…. mm...

Huh? Is it morning already?

Ngh. Good morning. It looks like we fell asleep before we realized it.

—Ah, right! Um, does your body feel alright? Sorry about yesterday. I was too into it…

Really? I see, that’s a relief.

I was worried, so if you… didn’t dislike it, then I’m glad.

Mm… hehe, I caught you. Can we… stay a little longer like this? I don’t want to let go of you just yet. I want to stick close together.

Today is a very special morning, after all.

I mean, I’ve… always wanted to visit Florence with you.

My wish came true, so this morning is special.

But I… really do apologize for yesterday.

I dragged you to one place after another without taking your stamina into consideration.

I bet you’re tired from all that sightseeing.

The task Emilio asked me to handle finished earlier than planned, so I might have been a little too excited.

Pisa was a bit far away, so the journey there was tough, wasn’t it?

Really? That’s great. I’m happy if you say you had fun.

The bell tower in Pisa’s Piazza del Duomo really was tilted, huh?

It’s a bit mysterious how it doesn’t just fall over like that…

That tower was leaning when they started building it. Even so, they continued building. But it was dangerous since it looked like it was going to tip, so they were only able to make it half the planned height.

Hm, if they realized they made a mistake, then it would’ve been better to start over. Right?

Ehe. Hey… your hair is sticking up a bit here. It’s cute. I like how you are in the morning.

You’re always so well put together, so I think it’s adorable seeing you still a little sleepy or a little off guard.

Ah, is it about time to get up? But I—I want to stay like this a little longer.

Yeah—oh, right. Let’s decide what to do today? We’ll get up after we’re done discussing.

Florence, the city of the goddess of flowers. There’s plenty of churches and cathedrals. Tourism is thriving, but the handicrafts are also flourishing and they make a lot of wonderful things.

Mm, then starting off… should we go to the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore?

Yeah. It’s close to here, so I agree.

Should we have breakfast somewhere before that? I checked out a few restaurants in the area yesterday.

I hope there’s something you’d like to eat.

Sure. Um, first, there’s a bar that’s popular with the locals here. Crostatas made from boiled apricots seem to be their specialty.

Ah, having a sweet cannoli at the pasticceria sounds nice too. I heard the cappuccino that’s only available on the morning menu tastes delicious.

There’s also the panetteria. They have a traditional bread from the region called pan di ramerino, and it has raisins and rosemary inside.

I’ve been to this city countless times but I’ve never had that before either, so I can’t imagine the taste.

The fragrance of rosemary seems to pair well with the sweetness of raisins though.

Heh. Okay, I got it. Shall we choose the panetteria then?

Eh? I look… happy? Do I?

The truth is, I wanted to try pan di ramerino too. So I… felt happy since it felt like we were on the same page. Hehehe.

-pause-

*sfx: footsteps walking together*

Santa Maria del Fiore. The cathedral of the Holy Mother of the Flowers is gorgeous, isn’t it?

The outer walls are pink with detailed white and green marble sculptures. I was really taken aback the first time I saw it too.

Ah, by the way, how are your feet? Are they okay? You’re not tired?

I bet it was hard climbing the cupola.

You might think this is childish, but I had lots of fun counting while climbing the stairs with you.

Hehe, there were more than four hundred of them.

The view from the top was really pretty. I just realized this recently, but I think I like looking out at the city from high places now.

It’s probably because I’m up on some cathedral every time I travel somewhere with you.

I’m sure that’s the reason.

Ah, the view was pretty, but the cathedral from up top looked beautiful too. Especially the red roof that resembled the gentle colour of the setting sun.

It was pretty sunny today, so the contrast between the blue sky looked stunning.

It was kind of like I was able to see both day and night at the same time. I felt pretty lucky.

Also, well, I might be saying something strange… but the shape of the roof kind of looked like that pastry, panettone, didn’t it?

I knew it! Thank goodness. I wasn’t the only one who thought that.

…Ah, that’s right. Would you like to stop by The Baptistery of San Giovanni?

See, that octagonal building over there. It’s the oldest building in this plaza.

*sfx: footsteps walking*

-pause-

I heard this Baptistery was used as a chapel before the cathedral was built.

There are separate doors facing in three directions, and the north door is the entrance for the clergymen who perform the baptisms.

The south door is for the parents and their children who are going to be baptised.

After the baptism, over here—they exit outside from the east door which is called the Gates of Paradise.

Hm, it’s impressive, isn’t it? It’s gold in colour, but it has a solemn atmosphere.

The drawings carved on the doors represent scenes from the Bible.

Hm? Say, did you not like the Baptistery very much?

You’ve been looking a bit down. Ah… could it be, you’re worried about my arm?

After all, the right hand is used to perform baptisms.

Heh, it’s fine. While it’s true my right arm is gone now, I don’t consider it particularly sad or tough.

I’ve said this before, haven’t I? I have you… who’s more important. So it’s fine.

Heh, stop that. Don’t make that face. Because… I’ll want to kiss you.

Doing that in a cathedral’s plaza, and in a place with lots of people around us… wouldn’t be good… would it?

Mm… just a quick one is fine, right?

Mmm… that’s true… I’ll hold back.

So, where should we go next then? Is there a spot that caught your eye?

An apothecary? Sure, that’s fine.

-pause-

*sfx: door opens*

So this is the place you wanted to visit! Yeah, I’ve heard some things about it too.

This is the oldest apothecary in the world. Ahh, there’s so many different things on display.

What’s this? Rose water? Hmm, you add it to your bath and enjoy the scent.

Ah—these are smelling salts. You use them to clear up your senses.

This is… perfume? Let’s see… this fragrance was created about four hundred years ago for a woman who was going to marry the King of France.

I see. This scent was made for someone.

Hm.

Hey, I’d like to give you perfume too. Is that okay?

Ah, I’m glad. Alright, I’ll look for a scent that suits you.

Erm, this is… *Sniffs*. It smells like citrus lemons. Refreshing.

And this one? A green scent, I guess? It feels like I’m in a forest.

But, mm, the image I have of you is a bit different.

What should I do? This one? Mm, not this one either.

*Sniffs*. Ah! T-this one—this one might work!

Um, would you try some of this on? Okay, your wrist, please.

*sfx: sprays and sniffs*

Yes, this is perfect for you. The fragrance of sweet flowers.

I was sure it would suit you. Use this, if you’d like.

You wearing the scent that I chose for you… kind of makes my heart race.

It feels like you’re mine alone. It makes me happy.

Ah, is there anything else you want? Is that enough?

Alright. I’ll go buy it then.

-pause-

*sfx: crowd murmurs*

This might be the first time I’ve taken my time to come here: Ponte Vecchio.

Even though we’re on a bridge, there’s lots of two-story and three-story shops lined up. It’s strange no matter how many times I see it. It’s like we’re in a regular city.

Apparently, this bridge has been broken and swept away by the overflowing river water in the past. But it was rebuilt about six hundred years ago and it’s still standing now.

Ah, look! That thing passing over the rooftops. That’s the Vasari Corridor.

It runs from the Palazzo Vecchio, through the Uffizi Gallery to the Palazzo Pitti. Only the Medici Family were allowed to use this path.

This bridge houses many goldsmiths, silversmiths, and sells tons of glittery wears.

Hey, I’d like to pick something out for you.

Back when I chose the perfume, you had a really happy-looking smile on your face. It made me happy too.

I want you to smile again like you did back there. I’ll select a present that will suit you, so wait for me.

Ahh! That item at that shop looks cute. Ah, over there too—.

-pause-

*sfx: crowd chatters, footsteps run over*

*Pant, pant*. I found you! Sorry, I lost sight of you. Thank goodness. It was only a few minutes, but I thought my heart was going to stop.

No, it’s not your fault. It’s my responsibility. *Sigh*.

Hey, I want to hold hands. So we don’t separate again. You don’t want to?

Hah, thank you. Hehe, I’m glad.

I should’ve said I wanted to hold hands from the beginning.

I wanted to make you happy, but I forgot what was even more important. I’ll reflect.

*Sigh*… shall we take a quick break? I heard there’s a delicious panini shop over there. This way.

*sfx: footsteps walk over together*

It looks like you can choose what you’d like to add inside. What would be good?

Ah, that sounds tasty. Then I’ll… yeah, I’ve decided.

Two paninis, mister. Dry-cured ham, mozzarella, and also arugula. For the other one: anchovies, butter, and salami.

Hey, let’s eat them in a park somewhere? And let me taste yours too?

After we’re done, let’s take it easy and head over to Michelangelo Square?

I bet the sunset will be beautiful over there at that hour.

-pause-

Ah… amazing. You can get such a beautiful view of the city.

Ah, over there! It’s the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore.

It looks like all of Florence is steeped in the evening sun.

I’ve never relaxed and gazed at the scenery like this when I came here for my disciple work.

And besides, I never really thought I wanted to look at it either.

But when I’m with you, I want to look at all sorts of sights. Plus, they look much more wonderful than if I saw them by myself.

However… it’s really beautiful… but I wonder what it is? When I gaze at the sun setting here, like this, it feels like my chest is tightening.

Even though you’re right beside me, I wonder why. It feels strange.

Up until now, I’ve never felt this way when I looked at the evening sky.

Oh… I see. Mm. That might be it.

It’s because I’m thinking we’ll have to head home soon. Maybe that’s why I feel so sad.

It’s not that I dislike living with the Church. But I’d love to keep travelling with you like this.

I can’t say something so selfish though. I know that, but…

In order to live with you, and in order to escape that city… I don’t regret killing so many people.

But, even now, I’m always thinking.

I’m a disciple, after all.

I was only given simple jobs lately because of my injuries. But, perhaps, if I’m asked take on missions like the ones before—when that time comes, what should I do?

I don’t want to kill anyone anymore. That feeling’s not a lie.

However, I wonder if I could really do it.

Heh… I know I can’t drift along without thinking anymore.

I’ll think it through and choose the answer I think is best.

I’m not sure if that answer will be correct. But, I will promise you this. I will protect you from now on and forever.

Hehe. Sorry for saying that all of a sudden. But I wanted you to hear it.

I’m truly glad that I was able to come to Florence with you! I hope we can experience all sorts of different sights together from now on.

Someday—not just Italy—I’ll be sure to take you any place in the world, if that’s what you desire.

Just like how you always grant my wishes, I want to make all your dreams come true too.

Because… I… love you, you know?

Hey, can I kiss you?

Can’t I?

Hehe. Thank you.

*sfx: kiss*

I love you.

---

[DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WORK W/O PERMISSION, THANK YOU]

#piofiore no banshou #piofiore #piofiore translation #piofiore orlok #thanks for your patience!!#also thanks for bringing this back to my attention~ <3 #i had 100 breakdowns while translating it (positive)

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loz-21 · 10 months

Text

Went on my first trip to America last week and this is finally something to blog about because I love travelling (but I’m scared of flying lol) I wish I did a post day by day but I didn’t even think so here’s my little holiday summary

Day 1: We landed at 7pm so quite late in the day but we still went a did a little exploring down the vegas strip and into a few hotels. Went to maccies and oh my god the portion sizes are so much bigger in the US! We are a lot on the plane so Lewis and I just shared a nugget meal. We’d been awake for 23 hours by the time we got back to the hotel even though it was 11pm it was straight to sleep. Although I did get scammed in the hotel shop with having to hap $17 for 2 small bottles of Pepsi and a bottle of water!!

Day 2: Lew and his step dad played in the world poker series during the day so his mum and I went exploring! Walked round quite a few hotels, looked through the shops got a bit of lunch, it was nice :) had Mexican for dinner too and I just couldn’t eat it all like it was just so much!

Day 3: Lew and I spent the day exploring, found the best (and cheapest) restaurant and bar, like 3 cocktails for $12?! What’s not to love! Weirdly didn’t get ID’ed but I’m not complaining (we’re both legally drinking dw) found a shop that actually sold reasonably priced drinks too! ended the day by the pool! Accidently fell asleep for 4 hours so woke up at like midnight and then we had to try and find food to eat as we spelt through dinner

Day 4: went for chicken wings for lunch and it was soooo good! May have got some of them in a a sauce a little too hot for me but was still really good. I finally visited the hotel I was most excited about, the Bellagio! Their conservatory was BEAUTIFUL 😍 and the smell was just amazing! The whole hotel was just stunning! Went through the Venetian too that had the gondolas inside and that was so pretty. Found a bakery that I’ve watched a show on since I was little and bought a cannoli from it, was a little tick off the bucket list.

Day 5: Final full day, went back to that restaurant/bar we liked earlier on in the week, got a frozen pina colada for $3! Again you can’t go wrong! Did some exploring by myself for a bit while Lew played some more poker and went and bought myself a giant pretzel because I’ve always wanted to buy one in America. Had a little chill by the pool with my book and went to this really lovely Italian restaurant for dinner. May have ordered the wrong drink and was give a glass of just straight alcohol (it was a vodka martini when I’d asked for a passion fruit martini) couldn’t hack it so had to mix it with Pepsi

Day 6: heading home. Had a little trip to the strip again for some last minute gifts to bring back home. And then a final chill by the pool before heading to the airport….. where we played on the travelator because they’re fun :)

Back home now and I’m still quite jet lagged, had to stay awake for 28 hours to try and put my body Into the right time zone, but even after 12 hours of sleep I’m still super tired. Oh well, see you in October Vegas :)

#las vegas #holiday #travel #sunshine #america

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courtneyinreallife · 2 years

Note

Duncney drabble where Duncan is comforting perfectionist Courtney about only getting a 6 for the cooking challenge?

A/N: ...I know it's not a drabble, but I promise it's short for me

The Killer Bass were walking back to their cabin while still celebrating their victor. Courtney walked a bit behind the group deep in her thoughts.

She wished she could let go and be happy that they won. But she couldn't. She failed.

6/10. Barely a passing score.

This island was really showing her how little she knew about the real world. Before, she would scoff at people for taking cooking or baking classes. According to her parents, cooks and bakers were not respectable jobs. Who was she to disagree?

When she was asked to make cannolis, she figured it couldn't be that hard. I mean, we even had a recipe! Yet still, she failed.

"Why so glum, Princess?"

Courtney looked up and saw that Duncan slowed down so that he could walk by her.

She could give him a snarky answer, but honestly, she didn't have it in her.

"I failed," she said.

He gave her a questioning look before his eyes widened in realization. "You know it was a partner challenge, right? For all you know, it's my fault that we got that score."

"No. I know I failed. I've never cooked or baked before in my life. It never seemed to be as important as..." She shook her head. "It's no excuse. I should've prepared myself better before coming here."

He scoffed. "Don't you ever like to live in the moment?"

She stopped and just stared at him.

...Right. Dumb question. He really wasn't sure what to do in a situation like this. He looked back at where they came from. I have an idea.

He took her arm and walked her back to the kitchen.

"Hey," she said while trying to pull his hand off of her arm. "Where are we going?"

"We have a few hours before our dinner," he answered. "It's enough time for you to perfect your cooking skills so you don't fail the next time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Duncan took out the ingredients to make the cannoli while Courtney studied the recipe. This time, she was going to make sure that she nailed it.

...If she wasn't so distracted. She couldn't help but look over at Duncan every now and then. She couldn't believe that he was doing this with her when he could spend his time literally doing anything else.

She thought back to when they made the cannolis during the challenge. They both didn't know what they were doing, and as much as she hated their score, she had to admit that she did have fun... Especially when she covered Duncan with custard. He looked... cute. She started to blush.

Duncan finished placing the ingredients on the counter before turning to Courtney. "Alright, what's first, Princess?"

Right. The cannolis. "Umm... Flour."

He slid over the bag to her, and she used the correct measuring cup to scoop out the flour.

Then, she paused. She looked at the bowl and back at Duncan.

"Um," he said. "I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure you pour it in the bowl."

...I'm really going to do this. She dumped the flour on Duncan.

"What the hell," he shouted while trying to get the flour out of his hair. "What was that for?"

Courtney started laughing. He didn't look as cute with flour all over him instead of custard, but it did the trick. "Sorry, I had to get something out of my system." She stopped laughing and tried to be serious. "I'll do it for real this time. So we need flour and sugar-"

Duncan poured the sugar right on top of Courtney. She tried glaring at him but her smile betrayed her. "We're supposed to be making cannolis!"

"Hey," he said in between laughs. "You started this."

She smirked. Then, I'll finish it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Courtney and Duncan spent the rest of the time throwing the different ingredients at each other. Yet by some miracle, they put together enough ingredients to make one shell and enough cream for it. Carefully, he helped her deep fry the shell and inserted the custard.

Courtney smiled at the cannoli. "I think this definitely looks better than the first one we made."

She looked up at Duncan who was smiling at her. This was really sweet of him. Without a second thought, she hugged him tight and kissed him on the cheek. Before he could realize what was happening, she pulled away.

"Thank you," she said. "We better get going before Chef sees what we've done to the kitchen."

She headed to the door, but Duncan stayed put. With trembling fingers, he placed them on the spot where Courtney kissed him. He could still feel the spark.

#total drama fic #duncney #td courtney #td duncan #total drama fanfic

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 6

Hannibal sits in on a regular conversation between y/n and her family. Y/n insists it could have gone worse.

⚠️Bigass trigger warning⚠️: Verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, blood, mention of alcohol abuse and suicide

Anna lived her life believing that she was the main character, constantly denying personhood to everyone around her. She was the romantic hero, and everyone else existed to forward her plot.

This metaphor was imperfect, however, because in all the books you'd read, the main character must overcome some kind of challenge. Nobody ever said no to Anna. Nobody ever criticized Anna. Nobody but you. So you were pigeonholed into the role of antagonist for it. You had to give her credit; growing up on the receiving end of her and Theresa's torture was a compelling villain origin story.

It was obvious that she only wanted you at her wedding to present her with an obstacle. Heaven forbid her story progress without some semblance of petty drama out of her control. She'd cornered you into a painful catch-22; you wanted vengeance, but you couldn't give her the satisfaction of having her special day ruined. What was your play? Ruin it just a little? Walk away?

These thoughts passed through your mind as you sat through the boring ceremony. You wanted to lean over and whisper everything to Hannibal, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. The vows seemed to drag on forever. Liam's English accent grated on your ears and you wished that he would just shut the hell up.

The ceremony concluded and you hoped to skip out on the reception with a purse full of mini cannolis, but fate had other plans. In a last-minute reach for some kind of scene, the blushing bride waved you over to the head table.

"[F/N]!" Anna shouted, with a big smile across her face. "Come on!"

You fought the urge to feel endeared by this. She looked too happy to be harmful. Your guard was all the way up as you and Hannibal approached the table.

Hannibal pulled a seat out for you while you studied Anna's expression. She fixed her doe eyes on Hannibal. You knew from experience that Anna had the same powerlust as grandma and Theresa. She was just better at keeping a lid on it.

"[F/N], you remember Liam?" Anna said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Yeah." You nodded, scooting your chair up. "Nice to see you again, Liam."

"Good to see you again, too [F/N]."

"Liam is from Birmingham." She bragged, her smile somehow growing wider.

"Alabama?" You piped up before taking a drink from your water glass.

Every time you were forced to interact with Liam, she reminded you that the man with the strong and unmistakable English accent, was in fact from England. And every time, you slipped in the Alabama comment. It was never not funny.

"Liam, Anna," you said. "This is my fiance, Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Many congratulations to you two." Hannibal offered.

"Dr. Lecter, thank you so much for coming." Anna returned. "And thank you for taking such good care of our precious [F/N]. I hope she's not giving you too much trouble. She was quite a handful growing up, but we made it work."

"Don't flatter yourself, you're only four years older than me." You hide your passive-aggressive jab beneath a smile. "You can't take credit for a job you didn't do."

Grandma always thought Anna's protective, borderline maternal behavior towards you was adorable. Of course, it disgusted you. You were little more than an accessory to her. A baby doll she could simulate motherhood with. But, in fairness to her, that was all you were to the adult in the house too. Monkey see, monkey do.

"So have you two set a date yet?" Grandma interrupted your thoughts, just trying to keep the tension down.

"Goodness, no." Hannibal answered. "Ours is a long-term engagement."

"Yeah." You added. "Not until I finish school."

"Well, it's not my fault you aren't expected to graduate on time." Grandma said into her wine.

You tightened your grip on your water glass. "Well, changing your major halfway through will do that."

"I'm just saying," Grandma continued. Whenever she was 'just saying' anything, you knew she was raring to stir things up. "If you had just stayed the engineering track, you wouldn't have to keep Hannibal waiting."

"Well!" Anna cut in, offended that the attention was off her for more than a minute. "Liam and I waited until after college."

"Yes, Anna," Grandma said dismissively, before turning back to you. "Y'know, Dr. Lecter here could probably tell you that psychologically speaking, women are more likely to drop out of college and become strippers when they change their majors?"

Now it was Hannibal's turn to down his entire glass of wine. "Ms. [L/N], where did you get that information?"

"Oh, it was an article I found on Facebook." Grandma answered. "I'll have [F/N] send you a link."

"Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with the concept of misinformation?"

"Of course." She looked offended at the implication that she could possibly not know something.

"See, social media websites like Facebook are inundated with misinformation campaigns." Hannibal explained. "Your claim is not rooted in any psychological fact."

"Yeah, also," You cut in. You scanned the area for escape routes if your attempt to change the subject went awry. "There's a wonderful documentary about how Facebook misinformation campaigns targeted rural counties in England leading up to the Brexit vote."

"Oh, we have a funny story about Brexit." Anna interrupted, taking the bait, hook line and sinker.

Before she could recount the same boring anecdote about being at some regional chain restaurant when the vote was cast, Theresa and her husband joined the table.

"Sorry we're late," Theresa sat down. "Damage control is a twenty-four hour job. What were we talking about?"

"Misinformation." Liam said.

"Perfect timing." You muttered.

"Finally, all three of my girls are together again." Grandma threw her head back and rejoiced. "When was the last time we all got together? Just us four girls, huh?"

"Remember the day before prom, we all went out go get manicures?" Anna reminisced. "And we took pictures of us all dressed up?"

"Oh I remember." You scanned the area for any alcohol to ingest.

"Oh, this is so funny." Grandma laughed hysterically. "Dr. Lecter, did you hear this story? [F/N] went to the prom with a boy who had all along been using her to get close to Theresa! They got together that night! Dated for two whole years after that."

"I've heard an iteration of it." He said, looking over his shoulder. He flagged down a waiter who was holding a bottle of champagne. "Leave the bottle, please."

"Don't drink too much, [F/N]." Anna scolded. "Save some alcohol for the rest of us."

You made sure to maintain eye contact with her as you filled your flute to capacity. "Grandma's paying, isn't she?"

"Anna, baby," Grandma said, rubbing her temples. "It's fine. Let [F/N] drink herself silly. It's a party, right?"

"Wow," Theresa sneered. You knew exactly what she was going to say next. "Like mother, like daughter."

Everyone at the table had enough decorum to recognize that Theresa went too far. You crushed the champagne flute in your grip, letting shards of glass dig into your skin. You glared at Theresa, blood oozing from your palm and dripping onto the white tablecloth.

Wordlessly, Hannibal removed the offending glass from your hand and swaddled the affected area in a napkin. He put pressure on the cut, letting the blood absorb into the cloth.

"Is this the famed '[L/N] woman telepathy'?" Liam whispered to Anna.

"No, [F/N] is just mad because her mother was a drunk who killed herself." Anna thought she was being inconspicuous.

"This has been fun." You stand up from the table. "Really. Great way to spend a Saturday."

"[F/N], sit down..." Grandma ordered, sounding exhausted. "You know Theresa didn't mean that."

"No." You said, each syllable out of her mouth pushing you a step closer to your breaking point. "Y'know what? No. I don't have to put up with this anymore. Anna, congratulations. I hope you and Liam have many long years together."

You turned around to exit as quietly as you could, Hannibal at your side. Your grandmother, who somehow hadn't hit her daily allotted dose of confrontation, wouldn't have it.

"Dr. Lecter, tell [F/N] she's being unreasonable." Grandma pleaded.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. In his long-spanning career, he'd never once met a person as tone-deaf as Beatrice [L/N]. He kept his quiet composure as he slowly approached the table.

"Beatrice," he said, beckoning her to lean in. He whispered something into her ear that left her stunned and quaking.

You could hear your grandmother's hysterical sobs growing softer as Hannibal hurried you out.

"Keep pressure on that cut, love." He instructed, talking over the increasingly loud shouts of agony from the head table. "You'll need a few stitches."

Once you were far enough from the venue, you had to ask. "What on earth did you say to her?"

"Nothing that you don't already know." He answered, facing forward.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #tw blood #tw emotional manipulation #cult girl

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

Chris lying on top of someone getting cuddles plz Ash I beg of you

Follows on Time Apart, It Doesn’t Work As Well As You’d Hoped, and Learn to Fly

Their heartbeat is slow and steady underneath his ear, and his eyes close, letting himself dwell in the sound. His fingers twist in their shirt, relax, twist and relax, rubbing his thumbs over the seams of their binder underneath.

They hum, softly, a tuneless sound very nearly like his own, and that’s like drifting in a warm sea, floating on saltwater and feeling the sun on his skin. Their fingers gently move through his hair, blunt bitten nails not quite scratching his scalp, just rubbing with their fingertips.

The coffeeshop is quiet around them, emptied-out except for the two baristas who speak in low voices under the whirring of the espresso machine, handing drinks out the drive-thru window, bags of cookies and cannoli, a scone or three. They don’t ask if Chris and Laken need anything more.

They know that the need, as it stands now, isn’t for the coffee that’s gone cold in both their cups. It's for the space to have their quiet together, after time apart.

The rain pours, outside, a soft and subtle rush, like blood pulsing through the veins of the world. Blood goes into and out of the human heart, water goes up to the atmosphere and then back to earth. It’s the same.

The earth breathes.

So does Laken.

Chris, like a bird with wings open to the wind to rise, listens to it.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Laken murmurs, without pausing in the soft rhythm of their fingers. “Or of what happened to you, or of what it means for us. My future is with you, that hasn’t changed. I’ve never been afraid of you, Chris. Afraid for you a couple of times, sure, but never of you.”

“I’ll freeze up,” Chris says back, voice low. The music that plays over the speakers switches in a wild, odd swing between the sort of instrumental jazz Chris is used to and the occasional bouncy 80’s pop song. He wonders, in a detached way, which of the baristas has their iPod plugged in to the speakers. “Every, um. Every time. I can’t-... I can’t, can’t stop it right away. Ever.”

“I know,” Laken says. They’re on their back on the back, shoulders propped against the arm of the couch, head tipped back a little towards the ceiling. Chris lays on top of them, his own feet up on the couch’s arm at the other side, the soles of his worn-out slip-on shoes pointing up. His fingers run over the thick, smooth binder fabric under their t-shirt, back and forth, back and forth. His fingers skim along the edge where the black of the binder meets the skin over their lower ribs.

He mirrors the movement of their hand through his hair without realizing it.

“You, you, you shouldn’t-... someone who, um, who can’t... I'm, I'm fucked up, Laken."

“No one gets out of this life without some dings, baby,” Laken says, and their hand slips down, cups his jaw and gently encourages him to look up as they look down to meet his eyes. Theirs, always, are pools so deep and dark he can’t tell iris from pupil. Some of the long part of their hair falls forward, framing their face. “Nobody. Yours are a little rougher than some others, but I’ve got mine, too, you know? I love you, dings and all. We're fucked up but we're fucked up together."

“You don’t freeze.”

“No. I throw punches. And trust me, it’s not always the right response. Even if it feels good in the moment.”

“I, I, I wish I could fight.”

“You did.” Laken sighs, a low soft exhale, and he listens to the sound it within them as well as without. “You pushed her away. You said so yourself. You pushed her away and said no.”

“Not, not right away.”

“God, Chris. You’re even braver for fighting when your body is screaming at you not to. It’s not thoughtless, for you, like it is for me sometimes. You have to push past years of hurt in a couple of seconds. That’s big.”

“It, it, it feels… small.”

“Well, it’s not.” The firm matter-of-factness of their tone makes him smile, secretly, turning his head briefly so the expression is made against their sternum, the warmth of their skin that settles under his own.

“I’m going to to to to, um, to make, it, it harder on you,” He says, looking back up at them. He doesn’t like to look right into people’s eyes, never has, but it’s not so bad with them. Sometimes. And he knows they’ll let him look away when it’s too much. “You know? You, you should… you should maybe find someone else.”

“I should be there for the man I love,” Laken says, voice getting a little softer. There’s a clatter of metal steam-cups over by the counter, the baristas rinsing everything out during this slow time, when the nearly-overwhelming rain means no one is getting out of their car right now.

The two old men - Mr. Malley and Mr. Cilly - have gone back to their homes. It’s nearly lunchtime, and Chris’s stomach feels a little hollowed. He’ll get a scone in a little while, maybe. If he remembers.

“But... everyone who loves me dies, gets hurt, gets gets gets lost,” Chris whispers, feeling a sharp twist inside him. A grief and pain that was wiped away, pushed down by drugs but never fully destroyed. It rises in a wave to break against him, as if they have only just died, the two of them. His mother’s eyes fading as she told him it would be okay, in the end. His father had already been gone.

“That’s a goddamn lie,” Laken says, and there’s an insistence even in their half-whisper. “Jake’s still here. Nat’s still here. Antoni’s still here, Kauri’s still here. I’m still here. Hell, those weird old dudes seem to care about you and they’re still here, aren’t they?”

“But, but, but when I, when I tell everyone-”

“I’ll be right fucking there. Wherever you want me.”

“Everyone will know what I am.” They’re silent, but he can feel their correction behind their lips, barely held back, and he smiles, just a little. “Okay, okay. What I, um, what, what I had to do.”

“If that’s what you want to do, I support you. And I’m not turning away just because you’re doing something amazing, even if it’s dangerous.” They run a finger along his jaw, and their smile is bright, their teeth just slightly crooked in a way Chris loves. “I told you. My future is with you, and that’s a choice I made like a month after you said that you loved me the first time. I knew it was me and you, Chris. Whatever stands in our way, we’ll get through it.”

Chris blinks at them, thinking, and then his own smile widens. It’s still a little trembling, a little hesitant… but stronger. “Blow, um. Blow it apart and go through the wreckage.”

“What?” Laken blinks back at him.

He shakes his head, smiling and laying his ear back down over their heart, looking out the window at the driving rain. It’s made puddles in the parking lot, and he sees a bright white and red polka-dot umbrella as someone makes a mad dash for their car from the bookstore a few doors down.

“My mom,” He says, softly. “My, um. Mr. Malley said… my mom would, um, would would do that. If she couldn’t get over something, or around it, she’d… she’d she’d she’d go through it. Knock it it it it it down or, or, or, um, blow it up."

“Then let’s make like your mom,” Laken says, softly. “And blow WRU to bits and walk right through whatever’s left of their bullshit and build our life there. Take their wreckage and make a statue out of it. Or a hammer. Which we will then bash them with."

He laughs, against them, and they laugh, too.

He's missed the sound of their laughter so much.

When their hand moves down, he grabs onto it. Their fingers are warm, as always. Warm and dry, the perfect counterpoint to the weather. They press a kiss to his hair and he lets his eyes close, enjoying the feeling.

“Do, um. Do do do do you want to meet her?”

“Who?”

“My mom. And, um, I guess, I guess my dad, too. I I I I know where they are, now. Where they’re… they’re buried.”

Laken inhales sharply. “Since when?”

“Akio, um, told me. Do, do you want to… meet them?”

“Sure.” Laken hesitates, then adds in a kind of nervous feigned humor, “What if your mom doesn’t like me?”

Chris thinks of the woman in his mind, still fuzzy around the edges and with a voice he can only remember when he isn’t thinking too much about it. Dark hair and a bright laugh, holding him tightly when he needed it and letting him run when he needed that instead. The woman who went to every single practice and meet, who had been so excited for him to qualify for the national elite team alongside Akio. He can almost see her clearly, if he keeps his eyes closed and forces his way around the headache that still tries to push her back into the light.

“I think,” He murmurs, “She, she, she, she would have liked you. A lot. And and and and probably been mad it took me so, um, so so so long to bring you by."

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

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australiancarisi · 3 years

Text

Sonny Carisi ~ It Reminded Me of You

the inspiration for this was literally a Ben & Jerry's ad on my facebook Not spon but B&J if you wanna sponsor me hit me up ada!Sonny x Detective!Reader A non-covid world all errors are my own v sorry words: 1365

It felt like weeks since you’d actually spent quality time with Sonny. You didn’t even have to be doing anything you could just sit next to him while he sat on his phone for hours just as long as you were actually with him, that’s all you cared about. It was so much easier when you were both working as detectives, sure you were working and being professional but you were just with him more often than not.

Now that he’s an ADA however, it feels like your schedules just never line up. And yes of course you still get to work with him it’s just not the same level.

You texted Sonny earlier in the day to see how his workload was going, hoping he’d be home at a reasonable hour. It was Friday and you had the full weekend off, not even on call. Liv even promised the only way you’d get called in was if it was a matter of national security. She’d seen how down and exhausted you had been lately and she wasn’t having it - Mama Benson will not let anything happen to her people.

When Sonny replied saying he’d managed to plead out his most pressing cases and that he see you at his place for an actual home-cooked meal and a weekend of doing nothing, you felt yourself burst with happiness.

You were packing up your stuff for the night saying goodbye to Kat and Amanda as they walked out when your phone rang.

A dopey grin spread across your face like always and Fin rolled his eyes, heading into Liv’s office.

“Hey Handsome, I’m just packing up my stuff should be at yours within the hour”

“Doll-“ you knew that tone, you knew it was gonna be bad, something had come up “I’m so sorry Hadid just handed me about 8 files that all are being arraigned on Monday, I’m gonna have to put a rain check on that meal” it wasn’t just going to be a rain check on the meal though, you knew Sonny and you knew he was going to work over the weekend. He put so much pressure on himself to make sure he did well and got the justice the victims deserved that he would exhaust himself on his only weekend off in about 3 months.

Tears welled in your eyes, you looked to the ceiling and blinked them away, determined not to let any fall.

Taking a deep breath to steady your voice before replying, “it’s okay Son really, work is more important”

“Nothing is more important than you Doll” you smiled sadly at his words

“I love you Sonny, it’s okay there will be more dinners and lazy weekends”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course bub, I love you” you reassured him.

“I love you too Doll, I’ll be home as early as I can”

Home.

It wasn’t official but you had basically been living at his apartment lately in an attempt to see each other a little more.

You hung up the phone, throwing it a little aggressively on your desk as Fin and Liv came out of her office. With tears still in your eyes, you sat down and looked up at the two of them.

“y/n...” Olivia started, she knew your plans with Sonny had fallen through, she always just knew.

“Don’t Liv. Please. Because if you say anything I’m gonna cry and I won’t be able to stop” you sighed your voice cracking slightly

“Do you wanna go for a drink? I’m sure phoebe won’t mind” Fin smiled sadly

“N-no” you cleared your throat “no I’m fine I’ll just get some more paperwork done here. You go home”

“Nope, you are not staying here. Go home y/n, get some rest” Liv pulled you up from your best wrapping an arm around you

“Sometimes I just wish he was still here” you whispered

“I know... me too...” Liv sighed

You said goodbye to Fin and Liv out the front of the precinct, reassuring them both that you were in fact okay and grabbed a cab back to Sonny’s apartment.

“Actually just let me out here… Thanks” you smiled to the driver, handing over the money and jumping out of the cab and walking straight into the 7/11.

You walked around the small 7/11 store trying to decide what you wanted. At this point you didn’t really feel like anything, you just wanted Sonny. You spotted the ice cream and well if you weren’t going to get to spend the night with Sonny at least you could spend it with Ben & Jerry. You took your time scanning the different flavours, a very important decision.

Cookie dough...Strawberry cheesecake...Chunky Monkey...

Then your eyes saw it. You grabbed the pint of ice cream and paid, quickly walking up to Sonny’s apartment.

Sonny rubbed his face in exhaustion and sadness. It felt like he hadn’t made any progress in the past hour on any of the cases he had been handed just before he was about to head out the door. He’d had such a plan for the weekend. Tonight he was going to cook your favourite meal and spend the night on the couch watching whatever stupid romcom you could find on Netflix. He planned to take you out on Saturday, walks in the park and maybe the art gallery and then Sunday, his favourite day, he was going to let you sleep in as long as you wanted and make you your favourite breakfast in bed and spend the day doing absolutely nothing. He was going to turn your phones off and spend the day lying in bed, order in any food you guys wanted because it was going to be the last day of just the two of you for probably a while. And now it was all gone to shit because of these cases in front of him.

Sonny loved being an ADA but right now he wished he never left the NYPD. Groaning as his phone pinged with a message he looked at it. It was Liv.

I know you are busy but please go home to girlfriend and get some rest, she needs you

Sonny frowned and typed out his reply

is she okay?

she just misses you Sonny and knowing you, you miss her too

how’d you know i was even still here?

The reply was just a screenshot of Liv’s find my friend's app. Sonny let out a laugh and sent back a heart before packing up his stuff and heading home.

When Sonny finally walked through the door of his apartment it was just before 10pm. Much earlier than you’d expected him. You shot up from the couch when you heard someone at the front door.

“Hey Doll” Sonny smiled putting his briefcase down at the door and shrugging his suit jacket off, letting it fall to the floor without a care in the world

“Sonny!” you ran to him and all but jumped in his arms. It felt silly but you really had missed him.

“I’m sorry Doll” he mumbled into your hair

“what for?”

“for messing up our plans, I feel like I just keep cancelling everything” he sighed

“hey” you pulled back from the hug and cupped his face making him look at you “do not feel bad. I understand, your job is important. Hell, how many times have I been called away? This is just how it is, but I’d rather only spend 5 minutes with you than a lifetime with someone else”

“I love you so much doll” Sonny blushed brushing his lips against yours “I’ll have to work a bit tomorrow but I’ll get everything done and then it’s just you and me all day Sunday” he held his pinky up to you “pinky promise” you grinned wrapping your finger around his. Sonny kissed your hand before leading you over to the couch. “now who replaced me tonight?”

“Chris Evans” you grinned flopping down onto the chair. Sonny reached for the ice cream on the coffee table “oh, and Ben and Jerry”

“Cannoli flavoured?”

“It reminded me of you” you whispered, snuggling into his side.

#law and order svu imagines #law and order svu fanfic #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi fanfiction #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi imagine

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Text

1. December 26th, 2016

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 6.4k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

A/N: welcome to chapter one of THE ONLY EXCEPTION! i’m so flipping excited i could scream!!!!!! this fic is going to be a long boi so buckle up. also thank you to @meetmeinfleetwood for supporting this fic from the start ilysm!!!! xoxo, willa

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

Y/N’s dad had been having these Christmas parties for the past five years or so, each time on the 26th of December, each time packed with music industry people and lots of bottles of tequila and red wine. Her first time had been two years ago, and she had found it surprisingly enjoyable—she had expected it to be boring and to want to leave after the first hour. Instead, it was full of people she had known since she was a kid, musicians and producers and her dad’s old A&R guys who she had grown up hanging out with in recording studios and backstage at her dad’s shows. They had come to family dinners before and after her parents’ divorce, and so when she ran into them at the parties it was easy to catch them up on her life and suddenly it was after midnight and the party was emptying out.

This year she had volunteered to help set up. Her dad had rented a massive house out in the hills and it came already decorated, but it was on Y/N to make sure there were chairs set up for the music circle, a massive bar laid out and plenty of glasses ready. Her dad’s friend was making the food, eager to use the opportunity to promote the new restaurant he was opening, so when Y/N opened the door it already smelled like garlic and olive oil, her favorite scents on earth.

“Karl!” She called through the house, shutting the heavy oak door behind her. Her arms were laden with boxes of plastic glasses—her dad was too scared of the guests breaking glass ones—and she wandered into the kitchen. The tall ceilings of the entryway where a massive Christmas tree sat adorned with ornaments gave way to a modern, sleek kitchen. Karl twirled around to greet her, a grin on his face. “Smells delicious in here.”

He set down his spatula and came over, grabbing a box and giving her a kiss on each cheek. “Hello, darling. Are there more in the car?”

She shook her head, unwinding her scarf from her neck and placing it on the counter. Karl had been her father’s college roommate and somehow they’d stayed close over the years, every one of Y/N’s birthdays spent at one of Karl’s restaurants with all of her favorite dishes made special, a birthday cannoli with a candle in it for her to blow out. “This is all of the glasses. Dad told me to get the bar ready—he’s bringing the booze in a bit.”

“Hope there’s a glass of wine in there for the chef,” Karl said and Y/N chuckled—there always was a bottle of Karl’s favorite expensive wine set aside when he did one of these things and he knew it. It was part of the pay, her father always said. “Want to taste test?”

“Always.” Y/N joined Karl at the stove, eagerly tasting the sauce he was cooking. It was a simple sage butter sauce, but Karl always excelled at the most simple dishes. “Delicious, as usual,” she said.

Karl jabbered her ear off about the updates on the restaurant—they’d run into problems finding a good sous chef and he was about to do the job himself if he didn’t find someone soon—while Y/N decided where to set up the bar. Finally, she settled on a high table against the glass wall in the wide hallway between the kitchen and the sprawling dining room, which opened up onto the patio. She tugged open the accordion glass doors and breathed in the cool Los Angeles air, thankful for a relatively cold evening, since she always got overheated at parties like this, where people were crammed into every corner. Her dad seemed to know more people every year. Satisfied with the position of the table, she set out the glasses and paper napkins, before asking Karl if he had an extra cooler he’d brought with. She’d forgotten to ask her dad for one before she had left. She filled it with ice and set it next to the table with a scoop, and grabbed the special shot glasses her father had told her to bring, placing them on the table next to a bouquet of flowers.

Her job done, she wandered through the rest of the house. It was gorgeous—she wondered how her father had found it. If she remembered correctly, he had said something about it being an official venue for music and parties, he’d done a private gig here a few years back and the owners had loved him enough to offer it for this party. It’s not like anyone really had gigs on December 26th anyway. She closed all the doors to the back bedrooms, remembering her father’s request, and set up a coat closet of sorts out of the bedroom closest to the front, before heading to change into her outfit for the evening.

“Y/N!” She was securing her favorite pair of earrings in her ears when she heard her father’s voice through the halls of the house. “Where ya at, sweetheart?”

“One sec, Dad!” She grabbed the hanger she had kept her top on and shoved it into her massive purse, settling it into the back corner of the room for safety. Her father was waiting for her in the kitchen with Karl, also getting a sample of the sauce she had tried earlier.

“Hi you,” her father said when she came in. His salt and pepper hair was balding a bit, but his bright smile was what drew people in, olive skin that tanned easily in the California sun. Y/N had selected his suit for the evening, a maroon red and a black tie, something a bit out of the ordinary for him, but Y/N loved it. “Look gorgeous.”

She hugged her father tightly. She had spent Christmas with her mother, as usual, so this was the first time she’d seen her dad during the holidays. “Not too bad yourself, captain.”

“Ha!” Her father pinched her cheek softly, just as he had when she was a child. “I’ve got your present in the car, come grab it with me?”

“Sure.” They had decided to exchange gifts at the party and Y/N had hers tucked in the back pocket of her jeans—dinner on her at Karl’s new restaurant, something she’d discussed with the owner a few weeks ago. Her father’s car sat in the driveway, trunk open where boxes of alcohol laid waiting to be carried inside. “That my gift?”

“You wish,” her dad answered, and Y/N gave him a pouty look that he just shook his head at. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out an envelope. Y/N couldn’t help but hope it was cash—she needed a new computer and was running a bit short. She knew her dad would help if she asked, but she hated asking him for money.

She took the envelope and opened it, a sheet of paper and something thicker hiding between its folds. She opened the letter and found a homemade coupon of sorts, just as she had done for him.

TWO TICKETS TO ANY SHOW IN LA - NON-REFUNDABLE, FUN REQUIRED!

“Papa,” she said, giving him a beaming smile. “My favorite!” She threw her arms around his neck and he chuckled, hugging her right back.

“Just give me a few weeks heads up, okay?”

Y/N nodded, and looked back down at the letter, eyes running over her dad’s sweet words of love and pride. It was their thing—homemade cards always, never store bought, despite that neither of them could draw. “Thank you.”

“Welcome, sweetheart.”

“Now yours!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out his envelope, aptly addressed, Dad, and handed it over. Her father read her card as well, and chuckled at her drawing of them at dinner together.

He kissed her forehead gently. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“Merry Christmas,” she said, squeezing his side. “Now let’s get all this booze out of your car before I drive away with it!” Her dad laughed and followed her to the back of the car, them each grabbing a carton of wine. There had to be enough for over a hundred people, Y/N thought to herself. Who would be new this year?

The party was in full swing, her dad’s favorite music playing softly through the speaker system, people littered all over the house with the alcohol flowing. Karl was cooking up a storm in the kitchen, his food a massive hit, and Y/N couldn’t have been happier for him. She’d caught up with her dad’s friends and people who were essentially her godparents, sharing how her job was going (fine) and her relationship prospects (non-existent), sipping tequila and red wine on rotation.

Y/N leaned against the patio railing overlooking the hills, a glass of tequila on the rocks settled in between her palms. She could hear her father’s voice in the distance calling people to come and start the music, the scrape of chairs and strumming of guitars. It was about time for her to go in, but she lingered, relishing the quiet of the night and the biting air wrapping around her. Since she didn’t play an instrument, despite her father’s attempts, this part of the evening was the part where she just sat back and observed. And also usually got quite drunk since all she had to do was drink and sing along.

“Y/N, right?” She turned around, eyes focusing on the person standing a few feet away. “I’m Harry.”

Harry Styles. How had he ended up here, and how had she not seen him yet? “Nice to meet you,” she answered, standing up straight and taking a sip of her drink. “Not going in to play?”

He shook his head. “Bit nervous, if I’m honest. Lot of talent in that room.”

She cocked her head to the side as he joined her at the railing. “You’re plenty talented,” she told him. It was true. She was a huge fan of his, had been for a while, following his work in One Direction since its inception, and now in the solo career her dad had mentioned. He was recording with some guys out at The Village a few months ago and called her at the end of the day, saying he ran into Harry Styles in the middle of a session doing some solo stuff. Said it sounded good, which she wasn’t surprised by in the slightest.

But Harry just chuckled. “Nah, those people are legends,” he said. She knew who he was talking about, too. One of the Dixie Chicks was there, some guys who had written with John Mayer and Kanye West, a dozen other Grammy-nominated musicians, some record label execs who had practically formed the industry as they knew it today, the A&R people who had found them. It was intimidating, definitely, but for Harry she didn’t think it would be.

“Just people.” She sipped on her drink, studying him. He was in a long black coat, a loose black v-neck silk shirt and red and white plaid pants that tapered at the leg, his cropped curls falling into his face slightly. He also had a tequila on the rocks gripped in his hand, rings adorning every one of his fingers. A skull, a red stone, a silver band, amongst them. “Having fun?”

He smiles at her, thankful for the change of topic. “Loads. Haven’t been at a party like this in a while.”

“What do you mean?”

The breeze passed between them, ruffling his hair a bit. “I don’t know. Just, people who didn’t really give a shit about me, if you know what I mean? Holidays can be a bit much sometimes.”

She nodded as if she understood what it felt like to be a popstar of his fame, which she didn’t, but she could imagine. “Didn’t go home?”

“My mum and sister came here, actually,” he said. “They were craving a respite from the cold English winters.”

“Well, this is definitely a respite,” Y/N said, and Harry chuckled.

Silence stretched between them and Y/N tapped her fingernails against her cup. Maybe it was time to go inside, she thought. “So, Y/N, what do you do?”

His question pulled her out of her head easily. “Brand strategy,” she answered, thankful for a comfortable topic. “I work mostly with fashion and product companies, preferably sustainable ones.”

“You like it?”

“Love it.” She did. She loved her work—she’d gone to school for it and thrown herself into it after school, loving pitching projects for clients and helping them understand their core purpose and how they could grow and evolve most authentically. “It was that or books, but I decided this was a bit more profitable. Also wasn’t too keen on living in New York.”

Harry nodded, twirling his glass in his hands. She took the opportunity to run her eyes across his face—he was gorgeous in this way that you weren’t sure was real. It was interesting to see how much he’d grown up. At 22, his cheekbones were cut and his jaw defined, his former long locks he had recently cut and Y/N liked these more, she decided. “What are your favorite writers?” He asked, pulling Y/N back into the conversation.

“That’s like asking which one of your children is your favorite,” she joked, and he chuckled, the sound music to Y/N’s ears. “Dunno, really. I read so much it’s hard to choose, you know? Reading a Louise Erdrich book right now that’s absolutely stellar. The Round House—you should give it a go if you’ve got the time.”

He pulled out his phone and she watched him type in the name to his Notes app, the action making her smile. “Been looking for a new book,” he said. “Just been reading The New Yorker and my mum about took my head off for not reading enough.” They both laughed, the sound filling the night air.

“Harry!” A man was standing in the doorway to the patio, a guitar in hand. “Come sing, mate.”

Harry glanced back at Y/N. “Coming?”

Y/N nodded and followed him inside, refilling her glass on the way. Harry handed her his, and she did the same, giving them both another glass of tequila to sip on while they listened to the circle of musicians. Someone had decided to do some Christmas tunes she Y/N smiled when she heard her father’s voice—he’d made it a bit country, just like he loved to do with popular songs. He’d grown up on a steady diet of folk music and country, just as Y/N had, and he always joked it was in his blood. Harry took a seat next to his friend who Y/N didn’t recognize—probably some producer her dad had met recently, maybe one of the guys from The Village if that was how they’d connected, and Y/N grabbed the seat her dad had saved for her next to him.

She joined in immediately, knowing this rendition of “The Little Drummer Boy” by heart, since it was the same one he had made up when Y/N was eight or nine. Karl was in the circle too, a plate of food in his hands and his bottle of red wine on the ground, and he gave her a warm smile. This was her favorite part of the night—feeling a part of something her father loved so dearly. When he gave her a kiss to her temple and introduced her to the group, she couldn’t help but find Harry’s eyes, his irises twinkling back at her under the lights.

At one o’clock, people finally began filtering out of the party, and Harry decided it was probably time for him to head. Jeff, who had invited him to come with, had already left, exhausted from the holidays with family, but Harry had stayed, hoping to talk to Y/N for a little while longer. He had unfortunately failed to catch her, though, the music running long and after it had wrapped up people had tugged her in for hugs and conversation. Despite knowing who she was through her father, he was still in awe of how intimately she knew all of these people. He overheard snippets of her conversations, asking about children and partners, parents who had cancer and career-defining moments she’d missed out on because of work. Harry was in this world too, but many of the people at this party were a bit older than his usual set—they belonged to the group of his heroes, rather than necessarily people he felt were his peers. He was still getting his solo career together, still only a boyband member in their eyes. He tried not to feel less than, but sometimes it was hard when you were sat next to Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks with utterly nothing to say but awe-inspired ramblings.

Finally, Y/N was alone, the older couple she was talking to having left for the door, and Harry seized the opportunity. “Y/N,” he said, and her head popped up from her phone to look at him. Her dark brown hair was soft against her skin, and he eagerly wondered what it felt like against his skin, brown eyes that searched his soul. “I loved talking to you earlier.”

She smiled and Harry loved it when she did. Lit up the whole room, just about. “Me too. Glad you came—with Jeff, yeah?”

He nodded. “He introduced me to your dad when we were at The Village.” Y/N nodded as well, obviously having figured out the story. “I—I was wondering, would you want to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to chat more, get to know you.” He restrained the urge to bounce on his heels, nervous in front of her. He felt like a kid asking out his crush, but that’s what this was, a crush. Even if it came to nothing, she was kind, interesting, and fit into the world he revolved in. It wasn’t the most important thing, but he appreciated it all the same.

“Oh,” she said, tone somber. “Sorry, Harry, but I don’t date musicians. Get home safe, yeah?” She turned away from him, feet carrying her back into the living room, presumably finding her father.

What? She didn’t date musicians? “I’m sorry—what?”

Y/N turned back to look at him. “I just don’t. Bit of a rule.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Don’t feel the need to explain it. Bye, Harry.” Then, she walked away and Harry was left in shock. The abrupt change in tone was like whiplash—she had seemed so interested, involved in their conversation, only to tell him she didn’t date musicians? What the fuck kind of rule was that?

He huffed and tugged out his phone to tell his driver he was ready, and went outside, leaving behind Y/N and her confusing rule. But this wouldn’t be the last time he saw her, he decided. He wanted to know why she had this rule, this stupid rule that was stopping her from getting to know him. It wasn’t like he even asked her to date him, just to get coffee for Pete’s sake. Harry sat down in the car and pulled out his phone, composing a text to Jeff.

Could I write with Peter? Seemed like a great guy, really talented. Maybe if she got to Y/N’s dad, he could earn some brownie points. Maybe then she’d bend her rules for him, because despite their short conversation, Harry was intrigued.

Definitely, Jeff replied. I’ll text him tomorrow.

Harry closed his phone and smiled. Hopefully this worked, because Harry was dying to know more about this rule of hers.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed when she pulled into her dad’s driveway. There was another car sat in the drive, a black 4-door SUV she’d never seen before, the windows tinted so she couldn’t see in. It reminded her of those cars the FBI drives in crime dramas, which obviously led her to a part of her brain that was not necessarily a hopeful place. She scrambled to grab her bag from work and her keys, launching herself from her car and towards her dad’s door.

“Dad!” She called into the house, slamming the door shut behind her. “Whose car is in the drive? Didn’t tell me we’d be having company!” Gripping the wall for balance she toed off her shoes and set her bag on the floor next to the door, shrugging off her coat and setting it on a hook. “Dad?”

“He’s in the toilet.”

Her head whipped around and found Harry Styles standing in her hallway, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. As much as she had planned to forget about him after the party, never really expecting to see him again, she hadn’t been able to. And now he was in her house, hair pushed back from his face, a grin painted on his lips. It was irritating how gorgeous he was. “The fuck are you doing here?”

A hand went up to scratch the back of his neck and for a second Y/N regretted being quite so aggressive. “‘M writing with your dad,” he explained. “Guess he didn’t tell you.”

“No,” she answered. She brushed past him into the living room where, as Harry had said, it was obvious they had been writing. Her dad’s treasured old Gibson guitar leaning against his favorite armchair where he’d set it, computers out with GarageBand up for recording demos, papers with scribbles strewn across the coffee table. “Good session?” She decided that there was no way he was here just to pursue her—he was there for professional reasons, after all. Her dad and Harry must’ve hit it off at the party last week. There was also the fact that her dad was a really fucking good songwriter, so of course Harry would want to work with him. Ever since he’d stopped touring, her dad had started doing mainly writing, his songs appearing on records from everyone from up-and-coming artists the label found him to John Legend.

Harry just nodded. Her eyes drifted to his own guitar, a soft brown wood that had obviously seen some heavy use and travel. She recognized it from her dad’s own guitars that he used to take on the road with him, the nicks and faded wood at the base of the bridge.

“Y/N!” Her dad’s voice fell through the silence of the room as he re-entered. He was wearing his favorite old UCLA shirt, where she’d just graduated from not too long ago. “Home earlier than usual. Was going to give you a heads up about this one,” he pointed to Harry then, “but I see you’ve already found out.”

Her eyes drifted to Harry, who stood awkwardly next to the couch, unsure if he should sit or stand. “Finished my projects early and didn’t have any meetings, so thought I’d get out early and surprise you.”

“Well,” her father said, giving her a quick hug, “glad you did. I’m getting hungry, how about you?” She nodded, she was always ravenous after work. “Harry, would you want to stay for dinner?”

No, she thought. The last thing she wanted was to sit at a table with a guy she’d rejected and her father and eat an awkward dinner on a Friday night. She just wanted a massive glass of red wine, her delicious romance novel from her bedside table, and maybe lighting a fire in the pit in the backyard.

Instead, Harry said, “Sure. Don’t want to impose though.”

“Nonsense! Y/N why don’t you go change and Harry and I can tidy up from working. We were about done anyway.” Her dad kissed the top of her head sweetly and she just did as he said, Harry a forgotten thought behind her as she went to her room upstairs.

It was her childhood bedroom which she had been residing in for a month now. How her landlord could put her out for this long was beyond her, but she hadn’t had the energy to fight it—plus, it was an opportunity to spend some quality time with her workaholic father. So she was spending her evenings in her light blue colored room, sleeping between her soft pink sheets, and picking her work clothes that butted up against remnants from high school she’d left behind as memories. Y/N pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt that probably belonged to an ex-fling from college—Daniel maybe? Y/N couldn’t remember. Slipping on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm from the tile floors of the kitchen, she left her room, tugging her door shut so if Harry went exploring he wouldn’t stumble into her room.

Downstairs, Harry was sat at the kitchen island with a glass of wine and a smile on his face, deep in conversation with her dad about Fleetwood Mac’s chord progressions. A glass of red was waiting for her on the counter and she picked it up, wandering over to where her dad was cooking

“Whatcha making?” She asked, peeking into the pot.

“Pasta,” he replied. “Now stop being a nosy Nelly and talk to our guest while I try to focus on not burning the pasta.”

“Dad you haven’t even put it in yet.”

Her dad shooed her from the stove and she chuckled, backing away. “Get out of here, ya pest.”

She turned to Harry, realizing her dad was actively trying to get them to hang out. He was so annoying sometimes. “How do you feel about a fire?”

“Positively,” he answered and she led him outside into her backyard.

It was chilly out, but nothing too bad. She set her glass on the table and went over to the stack of wood her dad kept against the fence, picking up some logs and carrying them over to the fire pit they’d had for years. At first it was so Y/N could roast marshmallows at home, her father trying to do anything to get her to come over to his house more after the divorce, and as time had gone on it had become her favorite place in the whole house. When her dad was out of town and she came over to check up on the house in high school, she’d bring her weed and smoke out here under the stars.

Harry sidled up next to her and picked up a few logs, following her to the fire pit. “This is cool,” he said, words breaking their silence.

Y/N dropped the logs into the fire and looked up at him. “Favorite part of the whole house.” A box of matches sat next to the door and she grabbed them, as well as some kindling, and brought it over to the logs, setting the kindling under the logs before lighting them. The fire leaped up, the wood nice and dry from the lack of rain recently. “So, who got in touch with who?”

Harry looked at her in confusion. “Huh?”

She settled into one of the chairs set by the fire, wine tucked between her fingers. “The writing. You or my dad?”

“Oh,” he answered, joining her in the chair next to her. “Me, actually. Through Jeff.”

As expected. “And?”

“He’s really good,” Harry said, to which Y/N chuckled.

“That he is.”

“What was it like growing up with him as your dad?” He asked, breaking the silence between them.

Y/N shifted in her chair. She’d been asked this question so many times over the years, but it still was hard to answer. “Hard, if I’m being honest,” she told him, truth surprising her. But she had a feeling Harry would get it to a certain extent. He was a hugely popular star, after all. She’d heard rumors that he was a part of a movie coming out this year, something historical. “Like, my parents are divorced, which I assume you know.” He nodded, probably having figured it out by now. “And with my dad’s tour schedule when I was in school, I didn’t see him all that much, especially in elementary and middle school. He was gone all the time, even missed my birthday a couple times because of tour dates, so I just didn’t really know him that well, I guess. Fuck, sorry, this is a lot,” she breathed out, realizing she was rambling. Harry was just surprisingly easy to talk to, his eyes steady on her, intently listening to her every word. Boys didn’t usually listen to her like this.

“S’fine,” he replied. “When did it change, if you don’t mind me asking? Seem so close now.”

The fire, having grown by now, crackled in front of them. “Late high school, but mainly when I was in college. My mom moved to San Francisco for a job and I went to UCLA, so my dad was closest. Came over to do my laundry sometimes, have a home cooked meal, he’d take me to dinner, that stuff. Came to football games with me, sometimes, which he always tried to be interested in but never succeeded.” Harry chuckled at that and Y/N smiled at the sound. Harry was obnoxiously pretty. Like, impossibly pretty in this way where you couldn’t help but look at him again to make sure that yes, he was a real person. And it was really fucking distracting. “His touring kind of stopped when I went into college too,” she added, trying to refocus on the conversation. “Started writing mainly, putting out music only when it suited him. He’s a lot happier now, I think.”

“That’s good,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “I’m glad you guys were able to have that kind of relationship, even if it was later.”

Y/N blinked at him, his words so kind and honest. “Me too.”

“Always been one of my fears, if I’m being honest,” he said, words soft in the cool night air. Sun was starting to set and it was getting dark around them, the light of the fire putting an orange ember to his face. “About having kids with my career, you know? I want to be a dad, but it’s like…how do I do that while being gone all the time?” His honesty shocked her, but then again Harry Styles seemed to be excelling at that in every regard. “Sorry, that’s a lot to unload on you.”

“No it isn’t,” she reassured him. “Just told you about all my daddy issues, yeah?” He chuckled, and it lightened the mood just enough. “You’ll figure it out.”

Harry nodded, taking another sip of his wine and she did the same. It was her favorite, the one her dad bought multiple of whenever she came to stay. Even though they’d gotten closer over the years, his desire to make his house perfect for her never seemed to fade. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Shoot.”

“The rule—I—why is that?”

Well, fuck. This was the exact conversation she didn’t want to have, the one she was hoping he wouldn’t bring up. “It’s actually related to what you were just saying,” she said slowly. He’d get it after everything she’d explained and the fears he shared, right? “I don’t date musicians because they’re always gone.”

Harry was quiet, absorbing her answer. It was true, they always were gone—she had every right to her rule, she told herself. She didn’t want a repeat of what her parents had experienced, what she’d experienced. Her dad’s job had ruined everything in their family, ripping her parents apart, keeping him away from her for more of the year than he was home. She didn’t want the same thing for her kids. “That’s a pretty broad stroke, isn’t it?” Harry said though, pushing back against her. “Like all musicians. Kinda a generalization ‘bout us.”

“You said it yourself,” she said, leaning forward in her chair and resting her elbows on her thighs. “You’re gone all the time. How do you build a life with someone who isn’t there half the time?”

“Devil’s advocate,” Harry said, setting his wine on the arm of his chair, “but hypothetically you’re dating someone who tours all the time. But they make you a priority, coming home and seeing you, putting your relationship first. That wouldn’t matter? You wouldn’t even take the chance that it could work out okay?”

This time it was Y/N who was quiet. “I mean, musicians only have so much control over their schedules,” she said, remembering the excuses her dad used to tell her. “Plus, it’s not the relationship that’s the problem. It’s the part when you get to marriage and kids.”

“…So it’s better to just avoid the whole thing entirely?”

Y/N nodded, her logic laid out in front of her. She’d never had to do this before—most times, guys just took her at her word and dropped it all together. Harry pushed though, wanting to understand in a way the others didn’t care enough to do. “It’s safer.”

“But then you miss out on the opportunity to fall in love with someone,” Harry says, his words like rocks in her stomach. “And what if that person was a musician?”

Y/N had a feeling they were no longer talking in hypotheticals. “We can fall in love with tons of different people.”

“No soulmates and shit for you, then?” She shook her head. She didn’t believe in all that crap, never had. Relationships were about work, effort, time. The person was important, but the life that person led mattered more to her. How much they’d prioritize the relationship, the kind of life they wanted to build. “That’s kind of depressing,” Harry said.

The fire crackled and popped. “I don’t think so. It’s…practical.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be practical, Y/N.”

Y/N found herself speechless. She didn’t have an answer for him. She’d never been in love before, that was for sure. Hadn’t found that kind of love that people like Harry write songs about and she’d often found herself wondering when it was going to happen for her. There just hadn’t been any guys that were right for her yet.

“Y/N! Harry!” She turned and her dad was in the doorway, pasta sauce splattered on his shirt. He’d always been a messy cook. “Dinner’s ready.”

Y/N took one last look at Harry before grabbing her wine and heading inside, Harry following at her heels.

After dinner, Harry decided this was his last chance at Y/N. He couldn’t exactly use the same excuse twice and after understanding her rule, he was determined to be the exception. He helped Y/N clear the plates while her dad settled in at the TV in the other room, telling them it was his time to watch the nightly news and they could clean up since he had cooked. Harry had missed being in a home like this, the kind where he got told to clean up from dinner and there was calm and normal conversation at the table, Y/N talking about her day at work and Harry sharing about his activities from his mum’s visit. It brought him a kind of peace he didn’t know he needed.

The plate clattered on the counter as he set it down, Y/N turning, her hands soapy with the water from the dishes. “Gonna break our dishes,” she said with a snort. “Be careful, please.”

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. He’d cleared the table, so he grabbed a dish rag from the peg and joined Y/N at the sink, taking the clean dishes from the rack and drying them, stacking them on the counter since he didn’t know where they belonged in the cabinets.

They worked in silence, the only sound her dad’s TV from the other room. He could hear Rachel Maddow’s show on NBC, the same one he liked to watch, learning from her commentary on American politics that he was still trying to wrap his brain around.

“Y/N,” he said when they’d finished the dishes. “I promise I heard everything you said earlier.” She looked at him with curiosity in her eyes, trying to figure out where he was going with this. Harry tried to pick his words delicately, wanting to make sure she knew he did hear her, he was just entranced by her and couldn’t give her up. “But what is the likelihood you would be willing to give it a shot? With me?”

She took the dish towel from his hands and dried her own, considering his words. The waiting was killing him, but he didn’t want to rush her. He knew what her worries were and he was asking her to put them aside.

“We’ll take it slow,” he told her, stumbling over the words. “Promise. You set the pace, you decide about commitments. I just…” Can’t stop thinking about you.

But then Y/N surprised him by saying, “I know. I feel that way too.” His eyes widened, not believing the words from her mouth. “I’ll give it a shot,” she said slowly. “Better make the date good.”

“You sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask again unless you’d like me to change my mind.”

“Can I get your number then?” She nodded and read it off, Harry typing the numbers into his phone next to her name. Then Harry shut up and just smiled at her, following her like a puppy dog into the other room where her dad sat watching TV. She curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket her dad had so it would cover part of her and his heart softened at how sweet she looked. He loved seeing her like this, at home, comfortable in her space. “I’m going to head out,” he said. “Thank you so much for dinner, Peter.”

Y/N’s dad turned from the TV and gave him a wide smile. “Of course, Harry. You’re welcome anytime—wouldn’t want you to get lonely out here!”

His eyes drifted to Y/N and he knew that with her around, there was never anyway he could be lonely.

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lazypetals · 2 years

Text

we're back at school bitches and i've been up to my walking all day and staying under my cal limit. let's fucking go. xmas break at home was just full of food and people and i wasn't weighing myself or bodychecking and yeah it was nice and i'm fortunate to have that, but in the back of my mind i felt like shit because i knew that i'd regret every bite of cannoli from that new bakery and eating sandwiches until my stomach felt like it was gonna explode and huge scoops of vanilla ice cream with extra chocolate chips (that i willingly added cause i'm fucking fat) once i got back to school and had more awareness of my body.

it sounds bad but it feels so good. i missed ed youtube. i missed weighing myself every hour and checking my waistline after every sip of water. bodychecking whenever i pee or just getting the urge to bodycheck and going to my mirror to life my shirt up. it's so comforting because i finally know i can do it. i plateaued so hard from 2020 to the first few months of 2021. i was like 160-165 for most of that time. then i got my shit together and it started working, and i finished off my semester and went home in the low 150s and i was so amped. but i went home for 4 months. and i went back to 163 JUST IN TIME TO GO ON MY FIRST SLEEPOVER COTTAGE TRIP AND TOOK PICTURES IN BIKINIS WITH MY FRIENDS THAT THEY ALL POSTED. and they're all so skinny and have those vertical belly buttons and honestly the pics weren't terrible but i look like an absolute blob but i wasn't gonna say that and stop them from posting because that would just make me stand out more. anyway september rolled around, i was back at school, then my grandma died, school was busy and i was just straight up not vibing.

but october -> december.......... im in love. december 2nd 2021. i saw the 140s for the first time since i was 15 years old. my lowest weight ever was around that time, beginning of 2017 when i was delivering newspapers every week and walking like crazy to high school and back. it was 138 pounds. if i could get back to something even close to that i would cry. december 2nd 2021 though was 149.8 pounds. and honestly? i was ecstatic. i bought a scale off facebook marketplace because i couldn't handle being away from the one i had at home and not knowing my weight. december 2nd i met that girl in front of a subway and i practically ran home i was so fucking excited. and to see my lowest weight in literally years, breaking below the 150s.... im still giddy.

I KNOW I CAN DO IT AGAIN. again, unfortunately winter break happened and i left home on jan 17th somewhere around 154 again. but that's okay. because i was 151.4 yesterday/last night and that's exactly where i was on november 27th 2021.

and actually i'm gonna weigh myself right now.

151.2!!!! AND I HAVENT EVEN POOPED IN 2 DAYS OR SLEPT YET IT'S LITERALLY 7:15 AM

im manifesting this for me. i have basically nothing to eat in my fridge or cupboard. the only food i really have rn is:

- assorted bag of oh henry/reese cups/cookies and creme

-cottage cheese

-carton of eggs

-3 cheesestrings

-a small sleeve of 8 crackers

-some cream cheese

-cans of 100cal chicken noodle soup

-some frozen broccoli

-frozen fries

-frozen fish

-hot chocolate powder (i deserve it fuck off)

-teaaaaa

-also some more frozen english muffins (160cal) and other dry pasta to be cooked, tuna cans, just other assorted low cal stuff that takes too much effort to make

it couldn't be easier. when i go in for my lab tomorrow i'm gonna get some cucumbers, cold cut slices (usually like 20-30cal per slice), and cherry tomatoes on the way home. those are my all time safe foods i'm telling you like 2 cold cut slices 2 baby cucumbers and im full for hours it's fucking magical.

wish me luck i cannot WAIT

(i just dont wanna lose all my ass though thats the only thing i have going for me) (it seems fine so far) (but id much prefer finally having skinny arms instead of my stupid thick meaty forearms and basically bingo wings over an ass any day)

peace

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

Text

Flying Out

Peter x reader x Shuri

Notes; Everyone is of legal age.

Warnings: Mention of injuries, single derogatory word, and some not so nice behavior don’t read if triggering.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or something like that. Honestly, you thought it was total shit. Distance only makes you miss a person until it almost hurts.

Both Peter and Shuri would agree with you on that. Shuri especially.

You and Peter both lived in New York. Only an hour away from each other, but Shuri lived on a whole separate continent.

Tony and T'Challa introduced the three of you to one another. T'Challa had brought his sister to New York when he had to deal with business with your father.

While the two of them and the Avengers dealt business, the three of you had run off together. The three of you had spent the entire duration of Shuri's stay together and were sad to see her leave.

The three of you had kept in contact. Phone calls every day, video calls whenever you could manage, and when Shuri came down next time, you and Peter asked her out.

Though the three of you couldn't always see each other, you tried your best to be there for one another. And you were always there when it really mattered.

Once a month, you and your dad had a movie night. It had been a tradition since you were a child, and you treasured the time you spent together.

"No, we're not watching Harry Potter again." Your dad said, throwing a pillow at you.

"It's a classic!" You exclaimed, blocking yourself from more pillow attacks. "Besides, I love these movies. Don't you want to make your little girl happy?"

"That is emotional blackmail." Tony pointed at you. "Who the hell taught you to be so manipulative? I didn't do it. Was it Cap?"

"Pepper." You smirked.

"Boss, protocol 'Baby-spider Fell Out The Web.'" FRIDAY announced, causing your father to jump from his seat.

"Dad, what does that mean?" You asked, standing as his suit began to form. "Dad!"

"Peter's hurt." He said quickly. "Stay here." He added before his helmet snapped on, and he flew away.

"Dad!" You began to protest, but he was already gone. "Fuck!"

As soon as your father left, you'd patched through a call to Shuri as you opened up FRIDAY's scans on Peter's vitals.

"Y/N? You do know it's two in the morning here, right?" Shuri asked, yawning. "Not that I'm upset to hear from-"

"Shuri, it's Pete." You cut her off. "God, I don't know what's happening, but dad got an alert from KAREN, and FRIDAY says his vitals are dropping, and I'm kind of freaking out-"

"Y/N, darling, breathe." Shuri soothed. "I need you to calm down. I can't help you if you don't calm down."

"Pete's hurt." You rushed out. "FRIDAY's scans say his heart rates dropping rapidly. Dad went to help him, but I don't know what's going to happen." You said, choking back a sob.

"It's okay. Peter's going to be okay." Shuri assured you. "I'm going to board the jet, and I'll be there as soon as I can. I promise. Peter is going to be okay."

"Dad's on his way back." You read from the screen in front of you. "He's alerted Cho and Bruce to prep the med bay."

"That's good. That's good. I'm coming, Y/N. Pete's going to bounce back. Peter always does. Say it back to me."

"Pete's going to bounce back." You stuttered, nodding to yourself. "He's going to be fine."

"Exactly. Go be there for our boy. I'm going to be there as soon as I can. I promise. I love you." Shuri told you.

"I love you too." You said before the call ended, and you raced to the med bay.

Peter had been shot six times. He'd gotten caught in the middle of a gang war he'd been trying to stop for months. And he'd been shot.

Your father had rushed Peter to Bruce and Cho, who hurried him away. You'd been sitting in the waiting room ever since with your father by your side.

"Maybe you should try to get some sleep." Your father suggested, squeezing your hand.

"No." You shook your head, continuing to stare at the doors.

"Y/N."

"I want to be awake when he wakes up."

"He's not going to be awake for a few hours. Come here." He said, pulling you closer. "He's going to be okay." He said as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Go to sleep, hon."

The next thing you knew, someone was shaking you awake.

"Y/N? Y/N, it's Peter. He's out of surgery." Shuri said, kneeling in front of you.

"He's okay?" You asked, sitting up in your chair.

"He's okay." Shuri nodded. "He's still unconscious, but he's gonna be fine."

"Thank Thor." You sighed, wrapping your arms around her. "Thank you for coming." You whispered into her neck.

"I'll always come. That's a promise." She said, pressing a kiss to your check. "Let's go wait for spidey to wake up, huh?" She suggested.

"Peter, I swear to Thor!" You shrieked, running behind his couch.

"What? I just want a hug." He evilly grinned as he made a mad dash towards you.

"You're an asshole." You groaned as Peter wrapped his arms around you and smeared cannoli filling on your face. "I'm breaking up with you and keeping Shuri."

"You love me." Peter scoffed, licking the filling from your cheek.

"Gross." You sighed, pushing him away from you. "You're banned from the filling. I'm demoting you to clean up."

"It's my kitchen!" Peter argued as you strutted back to the kitchen.

"It's my nonna's recipe." You rose a brow. "You know you never win against Shuri or me."

"That's because I let you both win." He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Because I love you."

"I love you too." You smiled, cupping his jaw and kissing him lightly. "Now clean, or no cannolis for you."

"Yes, ma'am."

An hour later, the two of you were seated in Peter's small kitchen, enjoying the cannolis, when Peter's phone rang.

"It's Shuri." He told you before answering. "Hey, pretty girl," Peter said into the phone.

"This is T'Challa," T'Challa announced, causing Peter to squeak and thrust the phone in your direction.

"Hey T, how's my second favorite dignitary?" You asked, sounding every bit like your father.

"I was doing well until this morning." He sighed. "There was an accident in the labs today." He said, causing you to freeze.

"Is Shuri okay?" You asked, putting the phone on speaker.

"She's okay now. There was a small explosion in one of the labs today. Shuri was thrown back and has broken her leg."

"Are we able to speak to her?" Peter asked.

"She is currently asleep, but as it turns out, Shuri has already sent a jet. It's set to arrive at the compound in two hours." T'Challa said used to his sister's antics.

"We'll be on it." You said, Peter nodding with you.

"Thank you." He sighed. "I'll be there to greet you when you arrive."

"I'll call Happy to take us to the compound if you want to talk to May." You said once the phone call ended.

"Angel," Peter said, kissing your temple as he picked up his phone.

Six hours later, the two of you were landing in Wakanda with T'Challa waiting for you.

"Welcome back." T'Challa greeted. "It is good to see you."

"You look tired." You bluntly stated as you and Peter neared.

"As it turns out, Shuri does not like bed rest. I've had to force her back to bed three times." He sighed, leading the two of you into the palace.

"Makes sense." Peter nodded with a small smile.

The three of you made your way to the hospital wing and into the room where Shuri lay asleep, her mother at her side.

"It was time for her next dosage of pain medication," Ramonda explained, noticing the worried looks on yours and Peter's faces. "It's nice to see the two of you again. I apologize for the short notice."

"Please, there's no need for apologies. We'll always come if Shuri needs us." You informed the queen mother.

"Well, a thank you is still in order. I believe seeing the two of you will greatly raise Shuri's spirits." She smiled as she rose from her chair. "T'challa and I will take our leave now, and give the three of you some space."

"She's going to be so loopy when she wakes up," Peter said as the two of you sat down. "Do you think she'd kill us if we record?"

"I think she'd kill us if we didn't." You reasoned, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"True."

This isn't where you wanted to be. You and Peter had been planning to spend a month in Wakanda with Shuri for weeks now. The plans were all set, and on the day you were supposed to leave, you found out you had to stay.

The Maria Stark Foundation had a charity gala every year. The date always changed due to scheduling, and this year you were the only one that had not been informed that the date was today.

As it was a foundation in your nonna's name, and the money went towards people in need, you couldn't skip out.

Luckily for you and your partners, you were a Stark, and Stark's are problem solvers.

"You go on ahead." You told Peter. "I'll stay for the gala and tonight. I'll fly out first thing tomorrow and join the two of you then."

"Angel, I can just stay with you. Shuri's not going to be mad if we postpone the trip a day." Peter said, rubbing his hands up your arms.

"No, you go." You shook your head. "We made these plans months ago, we're not all postponing because I had a scheduling mix up. Go, have fun, I'll be there tomorrow."

And that was how you ended up alone in the corner of a ballroom in an uncomfortable dress.

There was nothing you wished more to do than take out your phone and talk to Peter and Shuri, but you couldn't. Because that was somehow ruder than you standing the back, ignoring the press.

"Did you get dragged here too?" A voice said, interrupting your musings. Lifting your eyes, you noticed a boy around your age standing in front of you.

After racking your brain, you came to recognize him as the son of one of your dad's minor business partners. Jacob.

"No, not dragged. I wanted to come." You said, taking a sip of your drink.

"But you had better plans?" He guessed.

"Not better, just ones I was looking forward to." You answered, causing him to chuckle lightly.

"I get it." He nodded, stepping closer. "I've had to cancel plans I was excited about too. But what can you do?"

You and Jacob continued conversing for another half hour before the two of you decided to get more drinks.

"Would your dad kill you if we went to the gardens?" Jacob asked. "It's so warm in here." He added, pulling at his collar.

"I don't think he would." You said, checking your phone for the time. "We've got half an hour before speeches. We should be fine."

Jacob took the drinks in his hands, and the two of you made your way out in the gardens. The two of you walked into the beginning of the maze, where a bench was located.

"Thanks." You politely said as Jacob handed you your drink.

Almost ten minutes after the two of you came into the garden, your mind was beginning to feel fuzzy. It was when you acknowledged the bleariness in your head, did a hand land on your upper thigh.

"Jacob, I'm in a relationship. I wasn't trying to give you any impression otherwise." You told him, tongue weighing a thousand pounds, grabbing his hand.

"Don't be a tease, Y/N." Jacob admonished. "You know you want this. I know what a slut you are, with a girl and boy warming your bed every night? You want this."

"Fuck you." You snapped, rising to your feet, only to fall when your knees buckled.

"I'm a businessman, Y/N, just like my father. I don't like no." He said, kneeling above you.

"Get off, Jacob, get off." You wanted to scream but could only manage a whisper.

"Just let this happen." He said into your ear before licking a stripe down your neck.

Jacob pinned you to the ground, and with your head getting heavier every second, you soon couldn't move at all.

"Hey!"

Non-reader POV

"I can't believe you put a mattress under us," Peter smirked, running his hand up and down Shuri's back.

"It's a safety precaution." She murmured. "Always have to have one."

The two were curled up on the ceiling in one of Peter's webs. Despite having full trust in Peter, Shuri had insisted on putting a mattress under the two.

Shuri let out a sleep-filled groan as her phone began to ring.

"Send it to voicemail," Peter suggested.

"Can't it's Y/N's tone." She said, answering, putting it on speaker, and sticking it onto a web.

"Shuri, are you there? Is Peter with you?" Tony's panicked voice came in before she could say anything.

"Tony?" Shuri asked, raising her head. "What's going on?"

"There's been an incident. We were at the gala, and Y/N was attacked." Tony told the two.

"Attacked? Is she alright? Are you alright?" Peter quickly asked.

"It wasn't that kind of attack, Pete. How quickly can you two get back here? Y/N won't talk to me, she's shut down. She needs you. Both of you."

"Tony, what happened?" Shuri asked, sharing a dread-filled look with Peter.

"I think Y/N has to be the one to tell you."

Reader POV You don't remember being brought back to the Tower. You can vaguely remember being in the med bay and speaking with Cho, and suddenly you were in your room.

You remembered being alone, staring blankly at the wall, and suddenly you weren't.

"There she is." Peter waterily smiled. "You with us, angel?"

"When, when did you get here?" You asked, looking between him and Shuri.

"Not long ago," Shuri assured you. "Your dad called us, told us you needed us."

Memories of the gala pushed their way to the forefront of your mind, causing your eyes to sting.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Peter said immediately.

"But I-"

"No, we don't want to hear any of your reasonings. Nothing that's happened is your fault." Shuri cut you off. "Nothing at all." She repeated firmly.

"Can you handle touch? Can we touch you?" Peter asked you.

Your hand lightly tapped the bed beside you, and both your partners slowly climbed up next to you.

"You're going to be okay, angel." Peter promised, his hand hovering over your back.

“We’ll be here with you, every step of the way.” Shuri added.

Though the three of you couldn't always see each other, you tried your best to be there for one another. And you were always there when it really mattered.

Taglist is always open, as are requests. I do get your requests and I am trying to write them all I promise.

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starglossie · 3 years

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HINAYACHI NATION WE RISE!!! [ read here: we make a sunset, you and i ]

Summary: Yachi loves highlighters. They're perfect for when she's taking notes. But her one orange highlighter just doesn't sit right. It's not the right shade of orange. And she can't really place what shade she's looking for until she spots Hinata. And when she does, she thinks:Yes, that's it. That's the perfect shade.

CAN ALSO BE READ DOWN BELOW!

Yachi loved highlighters.

Especially the pastel kind! They were the right shade of pink and blue and purple and yellow. A soft brightness that sat well on her paper when she dragged the felt tip across a certain word to make it pop.

She’d always been into color coding her notes. Colors were a great way to organize things. Blue for definitions. Greens for important takeaways. Pinks for material that will definitely be tested on an exam. Colors made sense.

Every so often she’d start vibing with a certain color. Some days her reading notes were more baby pink than sky blue. Or dewy green compared to lilac purple. Now, she found herself leaning towards her orange highlighter more. Though she quickly discovered, as she highlighted her notes in class and frowned deeply when the shade of orange wasn’t dark enough, that the shade simply wasn’t… right.

“Yachi!”

Yachi looked up from her notes. Hinata sat in the chair in front of her desk, resting his elbows on her desk. The sun was streaming boldly through the window, illuminating Hinata’s face and making his hair extra prominent in Yachi’s eyes. A fiery mass of orange. So bright you could never miss it.

That’s the right shade , she thought. Looking down at her orange highlighter that paled in comparison. If she could find a highlighter like Hinata’s hair. She’d be golden. Or, ha, orange . She laughed at her own little joke. Hinata scrunched his face in return.

“Whatcha laughing at?”

“Oh! Nothing,” she kicked her feet under her desk. A soft, rosey red bloomed on her cheeks. She could never share that joke. She’d combust from the embarrassment alone. “Is everything alright, Hinata?”

“No! We have a test coming up!” Yachi couldn’t but smile despite Hinata’s clear distress. Tests were not Hinata’s strong suit in the slightest. Though he was incredibly determined with his studying-or he tried to be, Yachi would give him kudos where kudos were due.

“Ah right...” she opened up her planner. It had bright sunflowers on the front and her name engraved in white. She flipped to March’s calendar where, two weeks from now, she had circled in bright pink EXAM TODAY! “I was going to text you about when you’d like to meet and study! I already started compiling a notebook for you…”

“Really?” Hinata’s eyes widened. They were so bright, Yachi thought they could have been covered with stars. “ Yachi, you’re incredible!”

Heat rose under her cheeks. She wanted to say this was nothing special. That the word incredible shouldn’t be used for something that, to her, was the natural course of things. Of course she’d make a notebook for him. She’d been doing that for years. And she enjoyed the little rush she got when she placed the tabs just right and when she created the perfect outline that aligned with the way Hinata best broke down information.

But for Hinata to think she’s incredible, all the same, a pleasant heat pooled under her skin that mirrored the baking warmth you get sitting under the sun at the beach for a few hours.

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” she said, popping the cap of her highlighter up than clicking it down. “We can review during lunchtime? Or maybe after practice if you’re not too tired?”

They were third years now. And every time Yachi thought about how two years had passed since she joined the volleyball club, awe and a little bit of sadness washed over her. She never pictured her high school life surrounding the sport and now, she couldn’t imagine what her high school life would have been like if she hadn’t joined.

She would open her journals sometimes. The ones she kept to write down how her day went, to give gratitude, to scribble down little prayers when they popped into her mind-for good health, for a meteor to not crash into her roof, for her mother’s happiness, to maybe fall in love-and read back over what she wrote. She’d grown so much and to just see that progress was sometimes unbelievable. But in such a good way. Like watching a plant go from a bud to full bloom.

She felt like she had bloomed, or well-was in the process of blooming. And she had to thank volleyball for that. For bringing her to the people that helped her grow.

“Hmmm,” Hinata hummed. He rubbed at his nose in thought. “Let’s do it after practice! ‘Cause I can’t eat and study at the same time. I’ll be way too focused on eating. Not so much on studying, haha.”

Hinata and Yachi had grown close over the years. They’d been in the same class all three years, while Kageyama got placed in class with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima (much to Tsukishima’s unbridled annoyance and Yamaguchi’s unashamed delight). Hinata’s response made Yachi smile. She expected that to be the answer. And opened her planner so she could write down Studying with Hinata!! In her favorite blue gel pen.

“Yachi you have so many pens and pencils and highlighters. Aren’t you overwhelmed?”

She slid her gel pen back into her pencil pouch purely for gel pens. “Oh! No not at all. I like having so many colors. I find it’s fun to pick and choose which one I want to use for notes.”

“Oh yeah! They’re kind of like, a mood ring, but not really. More like, mood… coloring? Something like that!” he finished with a laugh. And if it were anyone else in the world, Yachi might have felt like they said that just to humor her. But Hinata never said something he didn’t mean. He always spoke purely, from his heart. And that always made Yachi feel comfortable being her whole self. Illuminated in the glow that was Hinata Shouyou.

I wish I could find an orange highlighter that’s the shade of his hair, she thought. “Mood coloring! Hm yeah, that makes sense! Because sometimes I really want to use a pink highlighter because I’m feeling that particular shade!” she pulled out a soft, rosey pink highlighter. The color of cotton candy and then slipped it back into the pouch. “Or sometimes I’m in a minty green kind of mood!” she pulled out another highlighter for reference.

Hinata looked at her as if she was pulling out magical wands that sparkled and created starlights at their tips. “These are the coolest colors!” he reached for her hand, their fingers brushed. And as if she were shocked, she gasped. Dropping her highlighter to the table. It clattered softly onto her open notebook. “Ah, I’m sorry Yachi.” Hinata frowned, looking apologetic.

“N-No!” she was quick to correct. He had to know that he wasn’t at fault. That the electricity generated that shocked her fingers and made her pulse quicken was a newly crafted design that had, like her blooming, steadily grown over the years to this moment. “It was just a little static shock as all! It happens, haha.” she reached for her highlighter. Her cheeks burned.

In her journals, she had started writing out a name. And sometimes, that name had a few hearts beside it.

She was terribly infatuated, she realized every time she stared down at the suddenly not so blank page covered in that name with so many hearts .

Hinata fixed her with that same look he got when he was picking someone apart and wasn’t ashamed for you to realize he was doing so. It only lasted a second. Then, he was smiling again. A slow smile, and he leaned forward, his voice softer.

“Can you show me where you get those highlighters? Maybe after school before we start studying?”

Oh goodness is this a date? Her mind conjured with a swiftness. No! Hitoka! Do not jump to such conclusions! He’s your friend-one of your best friends. It’s just a friendly thing. And sure it’s happening on a date of the week but that doesn’t mean-

“Yes!” she tapped her feet on the ground with excitement, nodding fervently. “Yes that’s perfect!”

“Great! Sounds good then!”

Hinata jumped up just as his name was called. Kageyama was at the door. Hinata pointed a finger at him. “Kageyama! You came early! I’m ready to kick your ass if you’re ready to get your ass kicked!”

“Stupid, I’m gonna win. Hi Yachi,” Kageyama waved at Yachi. Yachi beamed, waving in return. ”I’ve been stretching all morning during class. My long jump is going to beat yours hands. No. Legs down.”

Another thing Yachi had gained over the years was the ability to understand the secret language that was Hinata and Kageyama’s dynamic. Honestly, once you understood that they made a competition out of everything, filling in the gaps came easily after that.

“What’s the competition this time?” Yachi chuckled, putting her planner back into her bag.

“Kageyama and I are gonna see who has the best long jump!” Hinata explained. “I won last time but Kageyama’s a sore loser so we gotta do it again.”

“I’m not! My legs weren’t at maximum stretch, that’s all.”

“What are you, Luffy? Are you going to try and find One Piece next?” Hinata asked, running through the classroom to get to Kageyama. Waving by to the students who called out to him as he did.

The last thing Yachi heard as they left the classroom was Kageyma ask, “The fuck is a One Piece?”

After practice, Yachi had a routine.

First, she gathered up all the balls with the help of her volleyball players and put them all away. Then, she took down the nets and rolled them up to be carried into the practice shed. She liked to imagine they were giant pieces of dough she was rolling up for cannolis. Afterwards she liked to clean the gym floors. She didn’t have to, but she wanted to. It was a nice feeling. Getting the giant mop and pushing it through the gym, up and down. She would pretend that she was in Mario Kart and her car was a giant, turbine-powered mop that could zoom lightning fast down the track!

After she finished mopping, she would go through every single volleyball and squeeze it exactly six times (one for every letter of her name) to check the air pressure. If a volleyball was flat, she’d pump it up until it was all full and no flat. Sometimes, when she thought no one was looking (and she always checked her surroundings three times) she’d try to hit a few balls over the net. Over the years, she’d gotten better! And could not do a solid overhand serve with little to no effort. Her hand always tingled after the ball connected with her palm. But she rather liked the feeling. And she always clutched her palm tightly as if she were holding a fallen star in her hand. To make the sting hold on a little longer. To keep the moment from fading away…

She threw another volleyball up in the air. Just to feel the tingle again.

“YACHI, YOU’RE STILL HERE!”

The ball dropped onto her head, sending a brief bout of pain down her neck and spine. “GAH!” the ball bounced onto the floor two… six… eight times before it rolled all the way to Hinata’s feet. “Ow! Ow! Ah… H-Hinata?” she felt heat swarm her neck and dominated her cheeks. Aw man.. She had hoped no one would have been around!

Hinata leaned down and picked up the ball. Holding it out with one palm, grinning to himself. He walked over to Yachi and held the ball with two hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya! Were you practicing your serve? I can receive some if you want!”

“No! No no I was just… playing around, haha.” Hinata’s receives were really something to witness though. They were beautiful in their own way. How he moved with a sharpened, feral precision to meet the ball wherever it was aimed time and time again without fail. Yachi could never tear her eyes away from Hinata once he stepped on the court.

He was her favorite player to watch.

“Ah, another time then. Are you almost done here?”

“Almost! We’re still going to the store, right?”

“Yeah! To get those highlighters you use! I wanna get like, thirty .” Hinata dropped the volleyball and started dribbling it with his knees. “Um wait. I should check my allowance first. But thirty would be nice.”

“We can do ten to start,” Yachi offered with a smile, watching Hinata play with the ball like it’s a part of him - a piece of his energy. “I already have a pack of mind.”

She hoped she could find an orange highlighter while they were out too. One that was as bright as Hinata’s hair in the late afternoon sunlight that crept into the gym through the windows. Hinata smiled at her wide and the wind got knocked out of her. Her heart clenched fiercely and when Hinata put the ball away in the ball crate beside Yachi, she inhaled sharply.

“Yachi, has anyone told you how you’re so... ?” Hinata’s not looking at her. His hands were deep in the ball crate as he put away the remaining volleyballs Yachi hadn’t finished storing yet. “What’s the word? Not just kind-which you are. But you’re so… oh!” he turned his head and it was like daybreak bloomed in that very moment. “Thoughtful. Like, the most thoughtful person I know cause you’re always considering and thinking about others-even for the smallest of things.”

The blood in Yachi roared. Her heart squeezed something terrible. Hinata was going on about how Yachi had so many thoughts about other people he wondered how anyone could ever feel lonely or forgotten when Yachi was there. To consider them and acknowledge them and give them space. He went on about how her brain must be so big because it carried so many thoughts and how her heart must be so large because it cared for people without hesitation.

“It’s why you’re such a good manager!” Hinata said with a sense of finality to his words. “All these years you’ve been taking care of us and I speak for everyone-even Kageyama but he’s shy so he’ll never admit this-when I say you’re irreplaceable. One of a kin-are you crying?”

Yachi was, in fact, crying. Hot pools of tears that were flowing down her face without stopping. “Ah! I’m crying!” She gasped. No no no. Why was she crying? No, no her tears weren’t hormones going wild. Or from her usual bout of a fifteen minute stress cry followed by a forty five minute power walk that concluded with a ten minute ice cream break after.

No, her tears were from the praises of sunlight Hinata had basked her in.

She wiped at her face furiously, sniffling as she did. Hinata was fussing. Waving his arms around wildly. His face was as red and maybe as scorched as hers felt.

“I’m sorry!!! I didn’t mean to compliment you to tears!”

“No it’s okay!!! I didn’t mean to cry from your compliments!!! They were very nice!”

“Do you need a tissue? I have a pack of two with cats on them that I use for Natsu sometimes!”

“Yes I’d like one of your packs of tissues you use for Natsu sometimes I also like cats!”

“Ok!” Hinata pulled out a pack of tissues, the ones with the cats on them, and handed them to Yachi.

She took the pack and a tissue to wipe at her eyes and blow her nose. She put the pack in one pocket and then the used tissue in the other-that she’d throw out later, of course. A beat of silence passed between them. Yachi glanced up shyly at Hinata. Hinata glanced down shyly at her.

They both bursted out in laughter.

“Let’s go to the store!” Hinata said.

Yachi nodded, “To the store!”

“So you use post-it notes to take notes…”

“Sometimes! Or I’ll use it for book marks or to tab important sections to go back for review.”

“Huh,” Hinata said, holding up two packs of post-it notes. One had a stack of green, orange, and yellow. Another had a stack of blue, pink and purple. “I’ve always used them to make little paper frogs.”

Yachi snorted. “Well that’s definitely a good use for it…” they had spent about an hour or so at the stationary store.

Their game plan was to buy the highlighters so they could use it for their study session. But then Hinata got distracted looking at all the notebooks with designs on the cover.

“A purple tiger! Wait, that’s Mahou Ranger Blue! WAIT A MINUTE IS THAT A COW?”

And Yachi, of course, followed along. She pointed out some of her own favorites from the stack. A sunflower cover. A panda cover. And one special notebook that you could design the front yourself that came with a small pack of markers attached.

Hinata then discovered the wonderful world of stickers and now, in the little basket Yachi had the sound mind to grab once Hinata started pulling object after object from the shelves, was filled with seven sticker packs, two notebooks, and three rolls of washi tape.

“This place is so cool…” Hinata was awestruck as he dropped the post-it note packs with orange and yellow into the basket. “Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes,” Yachi tapped her fingers on the top of her knees. “When I need to restock. Or when I need to self-care and indulge. Or uh, when I’m bored.”

Hinata nodded several times, “I don’t even know where I’m going to put all those stickers… maybe on Kageyama and have him freak out about where they came from.”

“That would be very chaotic.”

“Hehe, right! Oh yeah, the highlighters. We didn’t get the highlighters!”

“They’re over there,” Yachi pointed at the aisle with a sign saying HIGHLIGHTERS written in bright colors. “There’s a whole section for them.”

“A WHOLE section,” he sounded like a kid in a candy store who was given permission to go wild. “Let’s go!”

They went through every section of the highlighter aisle. Hinata was enamored by all the colors. “There’s ten shades of purple how is that even possible !” and “Wait this is literally the color of the sky I love this shade of blue!” and “Oh my God why would they make a highlighter that’s turd colored aren’t they ashamed? Don’t their parents love them?”

Yachi laughed so hard her sides hurt. Hinata was enjoyment incarnate. Being with him was fun, always. She never got bored or tired or felt like she had to work hard to fill in a space of silence when she was with Hinata. He made it feel like gaps were easier to fill. Like moments were more memorable. Like conversations just held more weight when Hinata Shouyou was on the other end of the line.

She kept glancing at Hinata’s hair as he tested every single highlighter he could on the test paper. The bright mound of orange that looked like untamed fire. She wondered how soft it was. If he used any special type of shampoo. If he could tie it into a pony tail now because it had grown much, much longer since they were first years. She wondered if he would let her put it into a ponytail. She wondered if the gaps between her fingers would be wide enough for his hair to slide through as she curled her hands into his hair while they-

“Yachi look!” Hinata was holding up a yellow highlighter. He put it close enough to her face and stuck out his tongue in thought. Eyes narrowed in concentration and zeroed in right on her. Making Yachi stand a little straighter. “Oh yeah… this is the perfect shade.”

“The perfect shade for what?”

“It matches your hair! This yellow, I mean.” Hinata explained. He took one of the test papers that was blank and ripped it out of the notebook. With a flick of his thumb, he uncapped the marker and drew a thick, bold line of yellow onto the page. “See? It’s just like your hair. Don’t ya think?”

Yachi’s fingers found themselves to the end of her ponytails. Pulling slightly so she could get a better look. She did a double take. Her heart skipped double beats. “Oh… it does. It does!”

“Hehehe, I’m gonna get it.” he dropped the highlighter in the basket. The only highlighter out of all the ones he tested out. “Ok. Did you find a color yet?”

“You’re only getting… this one?” Yachi’s not sure how to take that. But then, it’s Hinata. He’s simply complicated sometimes.

“Mhm. That’s the one. I like it the best.” and her mind filled in the blanks that weren’t there. Put in the puzzle pieces to fit so the conclusion was he liked that highlighter the best because it reminded him of her (hair color, her mind provided. Not you specifically. Does the distinction even matter! ).

“Ah for me… I…” slowly, she kept walking down the aisle. Hinata trailing behind her. Head turning on either side, searching and gazing until-”Oh! That one!” she pointed at an orange highlighter at the top of the shelf. She stood on her tiptoes but her fingers were a few inches short.

“Here,” Hinata was behind her. His chest to her back. His heat a warm blanket that drowned her in the fantasy of the shelves replaced by a kitchen counter and a cabinet. Their own little apartment instead of the stationary shop. Intimacy and familiarity humming between the small distance between their bodies. And Yachi would turn. Turn around and look up at Hinata and see the curve of his chin. See the slope of his collarbone that would slip into the crook of his shirt collar. And when Hinata would tilt down, and their eyes would meet, and Yachi would swoon because being so close she can drown in his scent. And she’d reach up onto her tip toes to-

“The highlighter,” Hinata’s heat was gone. The highlighter was now in her face while Hinata grinned. “My super reach was able to grab it no problems! Here ya go.”

An orange the color of Hinata’s hair. Where she could use it whenever she felt a yearning in her chest and could reach into her pencil pouch. Pull out the highlighter. And find words in one of her novels that made her heart twinge the same tune and level of longing she felt whenever she overheard Hinata’s laugh or had his smile directed at her. Her Hinata orange.

She reached out to grab the pencil. Their fingers brushed briefly. A warm spark that went right to her toes.

“Thank you,” she said, curling her fingers around the highlighter in a silent prayer before dropping it into the basket. “I’ve been looking for a shade like that for a long time. The right kind of orange!” her throat feels dry. Her chest is throbbing something horrible.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

She thought about the yellow highlighter laying underneath the orange one in her basket. How Hinata said this is perfect - because it’s like your hair. She swallowed past the nerves in her throat.

“It reminds me of… you. Your hair,” she quickly tacked on.

Hinata doesn’t move. And that put her on alarm because Hinata was always moving. His stillness was a sign of the unexpected coming.

And when it came, it stole the last remnants of her heart that was untouched by this feeling, taking control of her body and conquering it in the name of Hinata Shouyou.

His smile was bold and brilliant and bright. Wide as a watermelon. As dazzling as star bright. His face was red. Red to his cheeks and his chin and the tip of his nose-all red and covered in a blush. He laughed, and it was a little off kilter. A little high pitched in the middle but leveled off at the ends.

“Yeah?” he rubbed at the bottom of his nose. “Heh...hehe…”

“Hehe...hehehe…”

“Hehehehehehe.”

“Heheheehehhee.”

Yachi set down a tray of juice and some snacks on the table made after Hinata had pushed aside their revision materials to make space. She laughed, finding Hinata with his cheek smushed against the table. His eyebrows knitted so deeply together they’d probably become a blanket.

“Hi. Are you tired?” she asked, kneeling on her pillow.

“When I close my eyes all I see are multiplication signs and equal signs… it’s horrible!”

“Have you tried opening your eyes?”

“It’s no difference cause it’s right on the page!”

They’d been studying for a good chunk of the evening. Nearly everyday after school they’d come back to Yachi’s place to study. Their exam was at the end of the month. And they had about another week or so to prepare. Yachi, thankfully, had notebooks organized and compiled by subject and tabbed accordingly by the topic of said subject ready to go for revision. Hinata had to play catch up. But Yachi had seen this coming. So she made brief, outlined notes for Hinata that he could use as a foundation to fill in the gaps.

“Yachi…” Hinata had sniffled, clutching the review materials to his chest. “Yachi I’d die for you.”

“Please don’t!” Yachi waved her hands in front of her face frantically. “My 27th fear is being the cause of someone’s death!”

The sun sat heavy and rested in the middle of the sky. After doing four rounds of twenty-five minutes on, they now could spend thirty minutes on a break. Something Hinata was incredibly happy about reaching.

Yachi wiggled her toes in her socks, staring down at the crown of Hinata’s hair. I want to touch it.

“Is it making sense?” she asked instead.

“Mmmmm, slowly.” Hinata yawned. “I dunno if I have another twenty-five minutes in me though.”

“We did study a lot,” wiggle wiggle. “We could call it a day after we review that one problem you were struggling with?” she glanced towards her window. “So you can go home before it gets dark.”

“Ughhhhhh,” Hinata pushed himself up to a sitting position. Raising his arms high above his head. Yachi caught a bit of his stomach peaking out from under his shirt and immediately shot her gaze back to their work. “Ok. That sounds good. Teach away, Yachi!”

So she did. She broke down the problem into walkable steps. And demonstrated the method for doing so. Hinata watched with the same intensity he had when he was watching someone pull off a move before he replicated it with near perfection shortly afterwards. He followed her pen strokes. Her pointing. And when she capped her orange highlighter to make an emphasis on one of the steps, he grinned.

“Oh hey. Nice highlighter,” he reached behind him and pulled out from his back pocket his yellow highlighter. He tapped his highlighter against Yachi’s. “They look kinda cool together, don’t ya think? Like they compliment each other.”

We do, don’t we ?

“Yeah,” Yachi replied dreamily. She snapped herself back into focus, though, before her thoughts went ahead of her. “Do you want to try the problem? If you get stuck on a step you can use your highlighter to mark it.”

“Good idea!” Hinata went to work. Face molded in concentration. His shoulders hunched. The hum of Yachi’s fan played in the background to the sound of Hinata scratching his notes down. She reached out for her drink. Hoping the sweetness of the lemonade would cool her thoughts. Of how often they were alone together. How her friends were always asking Hinata-san’s going home with you again, huh? And how many times she’d laugh it off and dimississ it saying We’re just studying! We’re just friends .

Even when her heart would roar loudly in defiance: You want more. You’ve always wanted more.

But how could she?

They were graduating soon. Hinata was definitely heading into a world where their paths wouldn’t collide. Where they wouldn’t sit in adjacent rows. Where their friends weren’t down the hallways. Where they couldn’t grab lunch together and sneak out onto the roof. Hinata would surely go pro. There was no other option. And Yachi was going to college. This moment, in her room, where it’s her and Hinata and the fan buzzing and the drink in her hand with the ice slowly melting and the sun slinking lower and lower into the sky, this moment wasn’t forever. It was a finite piece of a giant vacuum that would swallow her whole at the idea that her days with Hinata were numbered.

Numbered and disappearing at an alarming rate.

“Am I right?”

Hinata’s question pulled Yachi from her thoughts. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes to glance down at his work. He had gotten it right. And her heart leapt with joy and pride at the sight.

“Yup!” she held up her hands for a double high five that Hinata returned with a holler.

“YEEEEEES!”

“Just do that for the exam if you see a problem like that and you’ll be golden.”

“I will! You made it super simple to understand and do. If you weren’t such a badass with designs I’d say you could be a really good teacher, Yachi.”

“Ah, it’s nothing-”

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

“Huh?” Yachi stopped, mid tuck of putting a hair behind her ear. Wondering when she should get another trim for her split ends. “Do... Don’t do what?”

“Put yourself down,” Hinata pressed, leaning forward until their noses were almost touching. Yachi yelped and leaned back an inch. “You do that a lot. When I hype you up you hype yourself down. That’s not good.”

She knew she had a nasty habit of doing that. Of regulating herself to Villager B position. She’d been actively trying to not do that. And being in the club helped her cultivate a garden of confidence she could pick from whenever a new one bloomed. But every so often her habit came back. Innocuous and bitter. Never letting go.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize either,” Hinata said softly, yet there was a firm seriousness to his voice as he did.

The fan whirred on and on.

Hinata kept his gaze on Yachi. She felt sweat form in her palms. She watched as his gaze searched hers and then, for a brief second, fell to her mouth. She gasped. Her nails curling in to dig at her palms. Her eyes widening as the dangerous, mischievous idea that maybe he was considering what her mouth tasted like. Currently, she’s mad at herself for not reapplying her vanilla shea butter chapstick when she had thought about it. And currently, she considered how the humidity in her room is making her shirt stick in the most uncomfortable places. On her neck and under her arm and to her stomach.

Their noses were inches apart.

If she tilted her head, she could-

Hinata’s phone rang. The theme song of the newest Super Sentai- Mahou Ranger -blared through her room. Hinata and Yachi froze. Until Hinata cursed and got up to turn answer his phone.

“Terushima!” Hinata said upon answering. “Hello? Can I call you back? I'm in the middle of something? Huh? Wait, what? Bokuto is doing what ? Wait wait! Send pics and I’ll call you later about it! That’s epic-let him know! Ok bye!”

While he was on the phone, Yachi had a moment to ground herself. Had a moment to realize that she was, in fact, very close to having her first kiss. She slowly raised her finger tips to her lips. Ran the pads of her fingers along her bottom lip and pressed down. Wondering what the pressure of another person’s lips-of Hinata’s lips-would have felt like.

“Yachi, are these the tissues I gave you a few weeks ago? You still have them?”

“Huh? Oh,” she saw the packet of tissues that Hinata was holding up. “Yeah. They’re cute! So I’ve been saving them for special blowing occasions.” saying that out loud was a lot more embarrassing than in her head, oh Lord.

Hinata, however, found it hilarious. He laughed and placed it back on the table. “You’re right. They’re meant for the most epic of nose blows. That’s why they’re super soft! Absorbs all the snot!”

“Oh that’s gross,” Yachi said between laughter. Her heart was still racing. Her fingers tapped on the table with loose, uncontained excitement. She kept thinking what if, what if, what if .

Maybe one day, she hoped rather hopelessly, she could see what world lied beyond the what if .

But for now, she contented herself with watching Hinata sitting across from her. In the small space of her bedroom. Where the moments before their paths would diverge were tucked away in tiny pockets of her heart.

“What’s that? Hinata you own a highlighter?”

“I didn’t even know you took notes.”

“Hey! I take notes!” Yachi was not so subtly listening into Hinata’s conversation a few desks away. She had been reworking training schedules for the team to do next week. Conditioning should be bumped down back to two days, and three days for strength work and other drills. She was about to bring out the markers to color code when she heard Hinata’s laughter.

Her heart skipped a measure. Her fingers twitched. His laugh was, perhaps, one of the best things she’s ever been blessed to experience. Even when it wasn’t directed towards her.

“When? All your notes are drawings, man.”

“It makes sense to me .”

“Right, right!”

“Well listen! Maybe I just needed a cool highlighter to keep me motivated.”

“Yellow’s the most basic color there is…”

Ah! Man… that should not have made Yachi as bummed as it did. Well, they weren’t wrong, she supposed. Yellow was a basic color. Especially when there were other shades like purple or mint green or sky blue. Yellow… yellow just didn’t-

“This is the best shade of yellow there is.”

And there was something in the way that Hinata said that. So sure, so strong, and with enough passion someone would think he was defending his favorite tv show character. Yachi felt her heart soar. Then immediately felt silly for getting so excited over Hinata being an advocate for something silly like a highlighter.

She glanced up secretly. Hoping to see what Hinata’s expression was like. Her heart stopped. Her breath hitched.

Because Hinata was looking at her, too.

If this were a shoujo manga, and Yachi’s read many of them, this would be the scene where the world disappears and the only thing left are their desks. Their eyes meet and around them is a frame of cherry blossoms and starlight. Of sparkles and an intense, hushed moment that’s meant to translate a moment shared between two people and two people only.

But this is the real world. The moment fleets and passes like a train rushing for its next stop.

“I like this color,” Hinata said. Looking at her still. His face broke out into a sunny smile that hit Yachi right in the chest. “I like it a lot.” Then he twirled his highlighter around his fingers like a drummer and turned back to his friends.

“What? Why were you looking at Yachi-san like that?”

“Haha, don’t worry about it!” Hinata turned the conversation onto asking if they’d seen the ending of Black Clover yet.

There was a loud, pulsing sound. That roared and demanded attention. That swallowed Yachi’s entire body whole. She felt like one, large, heartbeat. Her cheeks were flamed and her fingers were jittery.

She looked back down at her notes. Staring at the blue marker she was planning to use for color coding. She put it away and brought out the orange highlighter instead. The one she’d bought with Hinata.

With a slow, measured stroke, she brought the highlighter across the first word on the page.

CONDITIONING - LED BY HINATA SHOUYOU.

Yachi felt like death.

Madoka, her mother, knelt beside her bedside. “You’re so warm, dear. Are you sure you want me to go to work?” she frowned. “I can stay home.”

While Yachi would want nothing more than her mother to stay. To taste some of her mother’s food. To feel the continued cooling comfort of her palm pressed to her forehead. She couldn’t. Her mom had a project presentation coming up soon that had her working longer hours. Yachi knew how excited her mother was to show off her latest work. If she missed a day something could go wrong… and Yachi would feel even worse if that happened because of her.

“It’s ok, mama.” Yachi wiggled herself out of her blanket enough for her face to show. Her cheeks were red and flushed. Her body felt sluggish but she put on the best smile she could. “I just need to sleep some more. I’ll be ok! You go to work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Super sure,” she reached up to touch her mother’s hand. Gave it a squeeze.

Her mom still didn’t seem convinced. But after a few moments she sighed and got up from the floor. “Alright,” she adjusted her bag and leaned forward to press a kiss on Yachi’s cheek. “Try eating the porridge I made for you if you can! I put all my love in it.” another kiss. “Text or call if you need anything, Hitoka!”

Her mom left for work shortly after. Yachi pulled the blanket back over her head. Oh, she hated being sick. It was such an unpleasant time. Not only was she unable to do work, but her body felt blegh all over. Her nose would keep running. Her eyes never stopped watering. And when she coughed she could feel her whole lungs shake like old rafters in an attic.

She also hated being sick because she couldn’t see Hinata…

The other managers and a few of the players had sent her get well text messages once they found out she was out sick today. And memes, a lot of memes. She felt good, to be considered. It was nice when people remembered you in your absence. When you not being there meant just as much as you being there. That they even considered reaching out at all had made her all gooey!

And then Hinata had texted her. And her heart exploded.

Hinata: YACHI WHY AREN’T YOU HERE!!

Yachi: I’m sick lol! But it’s just a cold tho!!! I should be better by tomorrow so no worries!!!!

Hinata: OH NOOOOOOO Hinata: YOU BETTER FEEL BETTER SOON OR ELSE!!!

Hinata: I’m beating up your antibodies as we SPEAK!

Hinata: Wait Tsukishima just told me if I did that you’d die so I’m actually beating up your VIRUS

Hinata never failed to make her laugh. Even when it ended with a slight cough that made her more tired afterwards.

She slept most of the day away. Getting up once to eat her mom’s porridge. It was yummy, because her mom made it. She checked in with her fellow managers. Seeing how practice went. They both told her it went fine, and that her main focus should be rest.

Miyuchan: [PICTURE OF HINATA MID JUMP] Hinata-senpai’s in good form today hehehe… Sorachan: [VIDEO OF HINATA TURNING TO THE CAMERA, WAVING] when i said your name he turned and waved!! Said it was just for you :)

Yachi’s entire face exploded with heat afterwards. She chucked her phone and ducked under the covers like a caterpillar. “Waaaaaaah! WAAAAAAAH! He looked so good today and I missed it!!! MUCUS DRY UP! COUGH GO AWAY!!!”

She kicked her feet up and down and buried her head into the pillow. Ah, she really had it bad. When did it ever get this way, though? When had she even started to like him? When had that happened?

Maybe it was gradual. A steady rising. That just built up and up over time until she finally couldn’t ignore it anymore. Maybe it was the natural progression of things. When Hinata was so warm and open and understanding. When his sunlight was so attractive and welcoming that stepping to bask in its glow just wasn’t that weird of a thing to do.

But now she thought about what wedding colors she’d have her bridesmaids wear at their wedding and what to do if Godzilla attacked that day and they had to get married within his stomach after being eaten and that was the thought that sent her back to sleep.

When she woke up, the sun had set.

She rose slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Ah, I slept for too long…”

“Morning, sleepyhead.��

“Morning Hinata…” . . . “HINATA?”

Hinata sat by her bed with the chair she usually had placed at her desk. He was all grins and laughter. “Haha, hey! Yeah, it’s me. I wanted to come see ya.”

“You… did?”

“Yup! Your mom let me in. She wanted to let you know that she went OVERDRIVE with work today and finished enough so she could come back and see if you needed anything! We bumped into each other at the convenience store when I was getting you..” he reached into his bag and pulled out a pack of Fugashi. Her absolute favorite.

She was going to cry. She’d blame it on the cold.

“Hinata you didn’t have to get me anything! Just you here is uh,” she wanted to say that nothing was sweeter than time with Hinata. And nothing was more delicious than Hinata, in general. But instead settled with, “it’s good. It’s a pleasant surprise. Everyone really!” she quickly added. “I’ve gotten so many texts today from the team and our friends… feeling cared by you all made me feel a million times better!”

Hinata still placed the bag of snacks on her bed beside her. And scooted the chair until he was right by her. He fixed her with a serious glance that made her want to fidget. But then he just broke out into his usual smile.

“Well duh. Of course we’d check in on you! You’re important to us after all.”

“Hehe… yeah,” she rubbed at her cheek. “It’s nice to be reminded of that, I guess. You know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” he nodded several times for emphasis and then jumped as if he was struck by lightning. “Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” he reached into his bag again and pulled out a notebook. “I took notes! For you. Well, for me too but these are the ones I did for you specifically.”

She took the notebook from his hands. Flipping through the pages to find scrawled onto the paper notes. Organized and then explained why they were organized the way they were with doodles and boxes and arrows. It was all very Hinata. Yachi felt like she was getting a sneak peek into the inner workings of his brain. Which was cute. But what really made the notes was on the last page. Where he had written in big letters: KEY - IMPORTANT INFORMATION HIGHLIGHTED WITH YACHI YELLOW!

This was the moment where she fell.

If like was the diving board, love was the pool. And she fell into its waters. Got consumed by its waves.

She liked him. Maybe even loved him. Infinitely so. The heat of her fever chilled in comparison to the overwhelming warmth and adoration she had for him in this moment.

She pressed the notebook to her chest. Feeling the corners of her eyes sting. “These are the best notes I’ve ever received… thank you.” Yachi kept her eyes on Hinata. Who looked so pleased and elated and ecstatic-his entire face glowing from the praise. “And thank you for coming to see me.”

“Of course, Yachi!” he reached out to grab her hand. Gave it a squeeze. And then ruffled her hair before he got up. “If you have any questions about the notes, gimmie a text! And I’ll see you in class tomorrow, ok? You better come! Or else I’m bringing you there myself!”

“Yeah! Tomorrow,” she grinned. So hard her cheeks hurt.

Later that night, after Hinata had left. Her mom came to find her later. Madoka sat at the end of Yachi’s bed. While Yachi sat propped against her headboard. Fingers running through every word Hinata had written for our. Making sure to linger extra long on the highlighted phrases. So much so her index finger had highlighter smudges on it.

“I think he likes you,” her mom had said after a few moments.

Yachi whipped up her head, “Did he say something? Did he! Mama you can’t say that and then not explain!”

Her mother laughed, “You didn’t give me a chance to! No, Hitoka. He didn’t say anything directly. But I know attraction when I see it.” she lowered her eyes, a sly expression on her face as she regarded Yachi. “Something tells me it’s not so one-sided on his part…”

Yachi papped her cheeks, rubbing in small circles. “Ah… is it noticeable?”

“A bit,” she leaned forward to kiss Yachi on the forehead. “I approve, by the way. If he ever wants to come over for dinner let him know he’s more than welcomed! Also! Did you guys kiss? I hope you didn’t since you could pass your cold to him but if you did -”

“MAAAAMAAAAAA!”

“Just teasing!”

It was one thing to know you liked someone.

It was another thing altogether to act upon it.

Yachi had definitely grown in her courage stat over her high school career. She didn’t hesitate to strike up a conversation. She didn’t question, as much and as aggressively, her place in the world. She raised her voice and led proudly during every practice session with her managers. She even looked forward to volunteering in class.

But love? Romance? She had zero stats in that section at all.

Most of her knowledge came from otome games and shoujo mangas. And the occasional evening drama she and her mama would watch when her mama had a day off.

Real life experience? Zero.

How did people even confess to their crushes?

“I could write him a note,” she thought, sipping on her strawberry milk in class during lunch. “Or um… write him a song? I can’t sing well though. Maybe I should get someone else to sing it? But what if he thinks the person who’s singing the song to him is crushing on him and he falls in love with them and then they get engaged right in front of me I would have to simply pass awa-”

“What are you talking about, Yachi? It sounds stressful?”

“Hinata!” Of course he’d appear as she rambled herself into oblivion. So embarrassing. “Oh, nothing. I was just getting in my head a bit.”

“Well I hope you can get out of your head soon enough cause look!” Hinata held up his test score papers. They weren’t the best but they weren’t failures. He actually hit much higher than his usual exam results. With scores ranging well within the 60s and 70s. “I passed! Our study sessions worked!”

“Oh that’s so great Hinata! I knew you could do it! I’m so proud.”

“Hehehehehe, it’s all thanks to your wonderful teaching! Hey, as thanks. We’re gonna go out after school ok? Since we don’t have practice we can like, go get something to eat.”

Like a date? Her brain supplied traitorously. “Something to eat sounds good. But you really don’t have to treat me. It was no trouble at all tutoring you.”

“I want to do this,” Hinata pressed. Firm and resolute. Once Hinata got set with an idea, it was hard to change his mind. Stubbornness was imprinted within his DNA-Yachi was sure of it.

“Ok,” she agreed, nodding. Smiling, she added, “We can meet by the gym?”

“The gyms perfect! It’s a-” before he could finish Kageyama’s voice called out from the doorway.

“Hinata! Melon bread is on sale today. Last one to the cafeteria sucks!” and then he booked it.

“YOU DIRTY CHEATER, KAGEYAMA!” Hinata hollered. The classmates around them laughed. Yachi wondered what Hinata was going to say after that. But before she could ask Hinata turned to her, slapping his hands on her desk.

“The gym!” he pressed, looking her right in the eye.

She nodded, “The gym. Go! Melon bread!” she stuck out her orange highlighter. Hinata blinked down at it for a second, then grinned. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his yellow highlighter. He tapped his against hers.

“I’M COMING FOR YOU MELON BREAD!” Hinata roared before he tore out of the classroom like a hurricane on a mission.

Yachi stared at her highlighter like it was a rare jewel. She clutched it to her chest, where her heart was beating madly.

“Thank you so much for existing,” she whispered.

The rest of the day went by in a blur.

Yachi barely remembered what occurred in her lessons. But that wasn’t really important. What mattered was after school. It was rare that they didn’t have practice. But Ukai-sensei wanted to give the team a good rest after their last practice match with Nekoma.

“You guys aren’t even allowed to think about a volleyball,” Ukai-sensei had warned. “If I find out you’re even touching one? Laps! Laps for days!”

Yachi was surprised Hinata wasn’t attempting to sneak off with Kageyama somewhere far, far away to go practice out of sight from their coach. But she’s incredibly happy he isn’t.

“Yachi!”

Yachi’s heart skipped a beat as Hinata stopped by her with his bike. She hopped off the steps to meet him. “Hinata! Hi! Nice bike!”

“Thanks! Wait check this out,” he rang the bell several times. It’s chime declared to anyone who could hear it. “It’s the Mahou Ranger theme song. I learned it last week with Terushima!”

“It’s fine! Um,” she stared at the bike, looking left and right to find another seat. “Are we going on that together?”

“Yeah! Is that cool?”

Was that cool? She’s read shoujo manga after shoujo manga depicting this very scene and they still hadn’t prepared her for this moment. She swallowed thickly.

“Yup! It’s cool. I won’t fall, right?” she attempted a laugh at the end. Something light to make her heart settle and her palms sweat less. (Do her armpits smell? Would he even notice if they did? No no, her armpits were fine ).

Hinata grinned lopsidedly, “If you hold on tight you won’t even wobble.”

Oh Yachi’s gonna hurl.

Once Yachi’s on the bike, and her arms are secured around Hinata’s middle, it’s a whole other experience. A thousand manga panels couldn’t capture the feeling of having her chest pressed to his back. Having her cheek against his shoulder. Seeing and meeting Hinata’s eyes everytime he glanced back to see if she was ok.

“I’m a safe driver!”

“I think we broke the sound barrier a bit!”

“Yeah but safely !”

She’s laughed more on the bike ride than she had all day. And she may have held on a little tighter. Squeezed and took advantage of the closeness a little more than she should. But she wanted to indulge in a little greediness. Take a bit more than what she usually would have. In case this moment was the last. In case she’d never get to feel him like this again.

They ate first. At a ramen shop downtown. The noodles were soft and the soup was so warm! Yachi slurped up her entire bowl. Messily and all. They talked about everything. School and their current, favorite TV shows. They exchanged music recommendations and talked about the future.

“I think I want to go abroad,” Hinata mentioned as they sat by the riverbank after dinner.

The back of Yachi’s neck went cold. “Oh yeah?” she tried not to think about how abroad meant far away and not near here. Because these were his dreams, not hers. And above all Yachi wanted to support Hinata and his journey with every fibre of her being. No matter where that took him. Even if she couldn’t support him by his side. “That’s amazing! Do you have a place in mind?”

“A few!” Hinata hummed. “I’m still weighing the options. I wanna go somewhere warm though. With a nice beach… I’d love to play some beach volleyball!”

“I’d worry about the sand in my toes,” Yachi laughed. “I get sand everywhere when I go to the beach. It’s really unpleasant.”

The sun was beginning to set. Sitting heavy and content upon the horizon. A mix of oranges and yellows and quiet pinks and rueful purples. Yachi focused her eyes on the river. And made her brain think about how far it reached. How the river would probably go to the ocean. And how the ocean, despite being divided into seven parts, was really all connected at the end. And maybe, that could be them. Divided, but connected.

“Ah yeah?” Hinata said. “Well, the sand would definitely need some getting used to. If you visit a lot though, you’d get used to all the sand, wouldn’t you think?”

If you visit a lot . She had to know what that meant. Because the hope that rose in her chest and took root in her heart and was threatening to dominate her being was too much. Too great. And too burdensome to end in a deflation of a what if, or a failed expectation.

“You’d want me to come see you?”

“Yeah of course,” Hinata was staring at the bank too. And then he turned to look at her. And she met him in return. As she always would. “I like you. So I wanna see you. Even when we graduate.”

“I mean of course we’d see each other after we graduate! I dunno if I could visit all the time because of college but maybe long breaks or something could work.” She’d completely blown by his first admission. Her brain was already trying to envision summer and fall and winter breaks and a trip. She had to balance finding an internship too. So maybe she could coordinate something with whatever company she ended up interning at. Hopefully they’d be lenient. She’s never traveled abroad either. So maybe she could call up Kiyoko-senpai or-

“Yachi get out of your head.”

Suddenly, Hinata was in her space. Eyes intense and lips pulled into a frown. Yachi’s instincts told her to move away but her heart told her to remain rooted.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Hinata searched her face for countless seconds, “Yachi. Did you hear what I said? The first thing?”

“Yeah of course.” she responded. Then giggles. “Oh, that sounds like I’m responding to you but no I mean I’m just repeating.”

“No, after that. Think,” Hinata was so so close. And with the sunset coating him like a blanket, making his orange hair stand out even more, and his orange, golden eyes glow, she wondered if he’d keep his hair that long. Or if he’d cut it. And she wondered if she could touch it before they graduated. And she wondered if her mother was right, and he did like her. And she-

Oh.

“You like me.” it hit her like a freight train. Her entire body was covered in a dawning blush. The electricity and tingling of the realization went right down to her toes.

Hinata broke out into a brilliant smile. “Yes!” he laughed, head thrown back. The sound bounced all over the little world they were building of just her and Hinata. Only two. “Oh my God. I was worried you didn’t like me at first and that was your way of rejecting me. WAIT!” He whipped his head back, eyes wide with panic. “Do you like me? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t I’ll survive but if you did and I missed that you should say it again or if you haven’t said-”

“I like you,” Yachi blurted out. Because once the words had a reason to be alive. Had a reason to be born. Could be freed from the prisons of her mind and delivered safely with her heart to his hands-she had to say it. Here on the riverbank where the wet grass would surely leave stains on her skirt. But she didn’t care. Because she had to say it.

“I like you so much,” Yachi continued. Flowing like the river below them. “So much it hurts. So much I really, really want to kiss you.”

Hinata took her lips in the softest kiss. One that made her sigh and her eyelashes flutter. One that made her feel so seen and heard and alive and broken apart and undone and melting all at once.

It was her first kiss. And it made her want several more afterwards.

Once they broke apart, Hinata pressed his forehead to hers. Yachi curled her fingers around the back of his neck. Allowed herself the blessing of playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. Biting her lip, she glanced up at him through her eyelashes. He was smiling at her. His cheeks flushed red-probably burning as much as hers were at the moment. He laughed, and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Me too,” he whispered against her skin. “I like you so much I'm gonna explode, haha.”

“Can I say something? It’s kinda cheesy,” Hinata started as they biked home.

“Mhm,” Yachi hummed, nuzzled against his shoulder.

“I think of you every time I use that highlighter. The yellow one. It’s the only highlighter I’ve ever owned. And it’s probably gonna stay the only highlighter I ever have. Is that weird?” he looked back sheepishly and chuckled.

Yachi laughed, shaking her head. “No not at all. I got that orange highlighter because it reminded me of you, after all. Or well, your hair specifically. But you, by extension.”

“What do you like more. Me, or my hair?”

“Hmm… that’s a tough question… Can you get back to me on that?”

“No! Yachi! You have to answer right now! Wait,” he stopped the bike by a lamppost. Hopping off, he held out his hands for her to take like she was getting off a carriage. She flushed, giggling, and hopped off with his hands in hers. “I forgot something.”

“Did you leave something behind at the riverbank?” she hoped not. They could go back and look for whatever he’d lost, but it was dark now. And any luck would be wasted right now. She’d try though, if that’s what-

“Oh, no! No that’s fine. I just. I realized I didn’t-AHHHH!” he shook his head several times like he was scaring away the ghosts in the attic. “Yachi Hitoka! Will you be my girlfriend please?” he yelled for as loud as the neighborhood could hear. “I know I’ll be leaving and we’ll be far apart for a while but I like you a lot! I like you so much! I’ll call you every night! I’ll wish you good morning and good night! I’ll send you pictures of my sandy feet! I want to share everything about this new world I’m going into and I hope you want to do the same! So please consider me as your boyfriend, thank you!”

Hinata Shouyou was a bag of surprises. When she thought she had him figured out, Hinata just threw Yachi for a loop.

But that’s what made her drawn to him. That’s what made her like him.

“Yes!” she yelled, just as loud. Surely the neighbors would wake up but she didn’t care. “Hinata Shouyou I want to be your girlfriend! I want you to be my boyfriend and show me your sandy feet and I’ll show you my not sandy feet! I want to call you all the time! I want to support you on your journey even when we’re oceans apart! I want to continue being with you for as long as I can! I like you! I accept! Be my boyfriend, please!”

Hinata cupped her face and leaned in for another kiss.

Under the flickering lamp post on a late, spring evening where their final days were drawing in.

But their first moments, together, were only beginning.

#hinayachi #yachihina #hinata shouyou #yachi hitoka #haikyuu #my fics

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