#the numbers are going in the right direction why don't i feel better!

[naomiknight-17]

Frustrated because my blood sugar levels are good, my blood pressure is back down in normal range, and even the pressure in my eyes is returning to safe levels

But I still FEEL like GARBAGE

[mintmatcha]

Continuation.

Bakugo Katsuki swore that he would die before he let you have Izuku's number.

And yet, somehow, the three of you have ended up together for drinks.

He thinks it's a fair compromise; Izuku can ask his million questions, Bakugo can kill the rumors that the two of you are together, you can-

He's not sure what your goal is, but he can see it shining in your eyes.

Izuku is still in his teaching clothes, a pristine button up rolled up to the elbows and a pressed pair of pants. There's an extra shine and coil to his curly hair, and it smells like sandalwood; he put effort into his appearance and Bakugo knows it isn't for him.

Your words echo in the back of his mind: people always want what they can't have.

"You worked for the commission? As a hero?" Izuku asks you.

You never give direct answers- just these convenient truths delivered with a pretty smile.

"I'm retired."

Lipstick clings to the rim of your drink. It makes your lips looks soft and round, even when you run your tongue across your teeth.

"Retired?" Izuku asks. "Wow, I'm kind of jealous."

"She's my social media manager." Bakugo cuts in. "And a tiktok person."

Not his girlfriend, he wants to add, but he refrains.

"Kacchan says you have a cool quirk." Izuku talks without pause, rambling mostly to himself in that way Katsuku has taught himself to find endearing. His attention never wanes away from you, but you don't blush or squirm. You sit and endure with that damn smile on your face. "What is it called? How does it work? I tried to Google it, but nothing comes up. You are so young to be retired, I just-"

You lean forward and place a hand on Izuku's upper thigh, cutting him off midsentence.

"You have very beautiful eyes," you say, slow, stepping gently over every word. "Wide, wet: like a rabbit's."

Izuku snaps silent. Each one of your nails taps against his thigh, one by one. Bakugo watches how your thumb swipes side to side, how your lips part with your exhale, how your smile creeps up all on its own as you lean even closer-

"You twitch like one too."

"Oh, wow, uh-" Izuku stutters, his whole face flushing a dark pink, so strong it eats his freckles. Finally, someone else understands your goddammit issues. Bakugo swallows down the strange feeling in his chest with the last dregs of his beer.

"I'm going to get a drink, I think." Izuku stands, pulling away from your touch.

"Grab me a beer?" Katsuki shakes his empty can. Izuku nods, then looks at you.

"Soda water with lime."

"No alcohol?"

"I like to keep my wits about me."

The man nods, then practically scurries off to the bar. You huff, content, like a dog that's bought it's master their hunt.

"You scared the fuck outta him."

"He liked it." You pick a piece of lint off of your skirt. "They always do. Watch: he'll come back and sit even closer to me."

Bakugo throws himself back into his seat, arms crossed. "You're so damn cocky."

"Look who's talking, Kacchan." You tilt your head, pouting your lips with fake sincerity. "I can call you that, right? As your girlfriend?"

He sinks even lower in his chair. "You aren't my girlfriend."

"I could be." You mimic him. You lean back and let your knees spread just a bit, just enough that he could see what under if he tried- "The sex would be phenomenal."

That hits him like a shot. It's not that he wants to have sex with you, but he can't deny that the thought crosses his mind every now and again. He thinks about it when he's alone, when the bed feels too big, when he's-

"You don't fucking know that!" He's too angry already, especially compared to your nonplussed response.

"I do.'

"You don't even fucking know me." He points a finger back at you. "And I don't know anything about you."

"It's better if you don't know."

Bakugo sneers. Another nonanswer. He looks back towards Izuku, who's locked in conversation with the bartender. Why would you even bother with him? Someone like you would rip through him like tissue paper. You're right- he is a rabbit, and you're a dog, waiting with your sharp teeth to-

A hand cups his ear. Bakugo watches as you lean in over the table, bringing your lips to his ear.

"I grew up in the commission. One of their little project kids," you whisper. Sometimes, your lips make contact with cartilage and his skin sparks with heat. "I did things for them. Bad things. Illegal things."

"You kill people?" he whispers back.

"You know the answer to that." With every word, you creep closer, until your hands are on his thighs now. "They forced me to retire when Hawks took over. No more need for girls with bloody hands."

It's the truth. Your voice is painfully sincere for once, a strange change from your usual composed self. You're just giving him what he wants, but it's working. It's working. He almost puts his hand around your waist.

If Izuku is a rabbit, he's a fox, and you've lured him out of his fucking burrow. At this point, he'd welcome your teeth in his neck.

"What else should I tell you? My favorite color's red, I love the beach. You're not allowed to pull my hair, I never sleep over after sex," you continue. "I have a scar on my chest. So, you're not surprised when you see it later."

"Stop assuming that I'm going to fuck you."

"Oh, you're going to." You slink back over to your seat. Hands folded over your lap- a snake ready to strike. "I'm going to flirt with Izuku until you break-"

You turn your attention away from him, waving towards the approaching Izuku. "And then you're gonna fuck my brains out, Kacchan."

There's no time to respond before Izuku teeters back, blaming three drinks with a little difficulty. He hands then out, then sits back down-

So close to you that his thigh brushes yours.

"Thank you, little rabbit," you tease, eyes flicking back to Bakugo with a knowing, smug smile.

Fuck, Bakugo thinks. Fuck.

[alienpossession]

Skillful Masseuse

A gift for @mindmelter

"How does he feel? All good inside of him?"

"Man.....you really did some number down there. Fuck, my mind feels foggy, I think you really managed to squeezed out every last bit of him that I don't want to consume,"

"Yeah well, practice makes perfect. You are like....what, my 78th guy or something? It's unacceptable if I cannot empty a guy consistently by the time I reached the 50th guy. Ah, yeah, the 50th guy, that was the biggest one, and the one giving me the toughest fight,"

"Well, entertain me while I recover then. Tell the story,"

"Oh, okay. So, it's this guy named Tamir. A big tank of a guy, Russian or something along those lines. As you know, I never started from the face for direct takeover rightaway, I started it as a real massage to lower their guard down. But of course I lathered your kind all over the body so you guys can scan the body first and absorb all the muscle memory while numbing it to the point of temporary paralysis. I think he noticed something is wrong right away because he immediately grunted

"Grrr.....why the fuck...uhhh... your oil is so fucking cold??? This is like...ffhhhuuuhh.... fucking frost bite,"

"It's what makes it special, just calm down sir. This will start to feel real good soon," I said to him back then to calm him down.

Yes he eventually calmed down, but moments later, when I lathered your kind on his neck, he started to tremble as he realized that his whole body already stiffened.

It was too late, of course, and soon I witnessed the whole liquid merged into one form and moved upward. Imagine my surprise when he flailed like a fish getting captured, his body trembled violently I thought it would snap in half and he even fell from the massage board! I legit thought your kind failed to tame him, I almost sprayed an entire bottle to his face out of panic. But luckily, he dropped back to the floor like a log as your kind rolled into his wide-open mouth. Of course he then proceeded to gave me the harshest fuck I ever received, I was unable to walk normally for 4 days and have to cancel some appointment because of that. He, being inside a shady businessman, just chuckled when I confronted him about my injury and simply thrown me 20,000 dollar as if it was nothing

"Just shut up and keep on converting, whore. You're not going to talk back to my kind as if we did not pay you back way better than what you serviced us," he said to me

"Wow, that's rude," lamented the latest client, towel already dropped to the floor

"Yeah, very. But he humiliated me further when he pointed out about my raging hard-on,"

"HAHAHAHAHAH, you got hard from all that? Man, that's on you! Me, if I got disrespected like that, oh I wouldn't let that slide,"

"Well, I did inform the most senior out of all of you for the 50th guy verbal insult. Let's just say, he got punished properly for crossing the line against me,"

"Oh fuck......what happened?"

"Oh, you'll know by yourself later. Your kind love to tell stories and gather around in country clubs etc. acting like you are talking about big business stuff when you are all just in fact sharing sex stories and scandals of your own kind. My message is, just don't be a dick to me and you'll be fine,"

"But I can put a dick inside of you, and I'll be totally fine, right?" smirked the taken over scientist, his cock elongated to a decent 7 incher and throbbed excitedly

"How else you guys would pay me after all?" Andrew said with a smirk, the fateful encounter earlier this year really turned everything around for him

----

Andrew has been a masseuse for the past 2 years, but his clientele remained small and he required an extra job just to stay afloat, especially with the cost of living that skyrocketed. Of course he would never expect that somehow his massage oil package got tainted by a mad scientist with a confidential project currently worked on by NASA.

Surprised to see the ripped package in his front porch after his day job, plus the fact that he got an appointment later that evening with no more oil left, Andrew decided not to complain or requesting refund about the opened packages.

Everything went per usual. The client, named Zaid, is a regular, so he casually just stripped to his underwear and let Andrew worked his way. Just imagine Andrew's surprise when his client that seemed fine for the earlier part of the massage suddenly started to speak about the stiffness all over his body.

Andrew checked the bottle of the oil and the expiry still lasted for some times, so this is not the oil issue. Is it his movement, then? When he started to get frantic, his surprise doubled when a translucent, viper-like creature the size of a pencil hovered right below Zaid's lips. That viper-like creature, within seconds, then jabbed itself into Zaid's nose and that made him yelled in pain. That's when the creature split into two and infiltrated Zaid from both his mouth and his nose. It all happened so quickly, Andrew didn't even manage to scream as he just froze in his place, thinking that his client just died under his watch caused by some kind of freak creature. But everything turned out to be far from over as the once-screaming-and-writhing Zaid calmed himself down before opening his eyes. That's when Zaid then said

"Hello, human. Nice to meet you,"

And of course Andrew passed out

He woke up with the morning light already entered the apartment, only to realize that he's no longer in his apartment and Zaid is walking around shirtless

"Oh hey there you, finally, you wake up!"

"Oh God, Zaid, are you okay? Your body no longer feel stiff? What about that creat---"

"Pssst.....stop that. Here, let me show you what I've learned while you fell asleep,"

And that afternoon, not only Zaid shared about all his findings, he also revealed that the he's actually no longer Zaid, as the viper-like creature is already in control of his body. It explained its origin, the test NASA conducted on them and the experimentation they conducted, the mechanics on the takeover, and how Zaid already take the decision to uproot Andrew from his flat and take the masseuse under his wing

"Zaid here got plenty of friends that can be used for my kind. Will you kindly help us?"

And so, the takeover spree started. The easiest one? Zaid's roommate who was surprised when Zaid revealed that they would have additional occupant in the apartment. When the roomie protested, Zaid just sprayed him with the oil right on his face as it then stiffened moments later.

"This makes for a quick takeover, but I find it not as hot as when you unknowingly rubbed my kind all over the human body. I want you to use that skillful hand of yours and give those oblivious human the most pleasure possible before they realized how fucked they are,"

His taken over roomie quickly agreed,

"I have to rub one out before finally feeling this good. So, stick to your method and ensure all our kind received this Earth-shattering entrance as they ride on that orgasmic wave of pushing over the last remnant of the original owner of the bodies, okay? Melt their mind into cum!"

That's exactly what Andrew did ever since. With Zaid and his roommie giving rave reviews about Andrew, soon, Andrew's clientele grew massively. It reached stratospheric high he never dared to dream before thanks to the alien-converted men that endorsed him despite Andrew's so-so massaging skill. But, practice indeed makes perfect and Andrew indeed gets better at his craft with more clients handled by him as his hands methodically kneading, cupping and applying pressure with his special oil all over the body of his clients.

When they got too comfortable and their bodies already numb, that's when the alien strikes and mere minutes later, a brand new entity is in possession of the fine studs. Have they ever seen it coming? Up until now, none, never, not once, based on the memory reading of the possessed. All of them too relaxed to even put up a fight, not even the strongest man can get out from the trap and most of them even thought that the massage was that good, their body turned hella weak.

With still a bottle left, Andrew is about to finish his duty helping the alien. But it's not like the alien ever thinking to dispose him. Instead, the alien wanted to introduce Andrew to their savior. Based on their latest intel, the scientist is alive but he's in hiding as countless government organization is on the lookout for him and also still searching where the heck the scientist disposed the last surviving bits of the alien samples. Of course they will never suspect the alien samples to be poured into 5 different bottle of massage oil in a random New Mexico's suburb.

[olderthannetfic]

I was reading a fic and genuinely enjoying myself up until the author decided to make a huge deal, in their AN, about how their protagonist is bi. As in ACTUALLY bi, not that stupid "straight with one exception" trash homophobic fujoshits write. I'm a cis man. I am heterosexual with exactly one exception. I don't know why. I went through years telling myself I was just confused. I heard from my queer friends at the time that only being interested in one other man wasn't a thing, that it was actually me being confused in the other direction, hiding all my crushes and desires from myself.

My family was convinced I was straight. My friends were convinced I was bi for a lot of men, I just wasn't admitting it. My now husband was the only one who told me it was fine. He's gay and he had a crush on one woman, once. Exceptions happen.

So at the risk of siding with the dreaded (presumed cis, presumed het, presumed white) enemy known as women, I... actually like the whole "if it's you, it's okay" thing. I don't assume an evil fetishizer who hates queers is writing it. It never reads that way. It reads as a story, just like any other story. A way to be queer just like any other valid option. Queerness is a spectrum. Not everyone is bi in the same way or gay or lesbian or anything else. The Kinsey Scale exists for a reason.

I spent five years in and out of therapy and church trying to fix myself. Being bi in any way was too much for my family. It was "get rid of the gay or get out" territory of panic. I could have a family or I could have my feelings for him. Choosing him involved giving up everyone I had grown up with. It involved years further of "so you can admit now that you had other male crushes, right?" no matter how many times I said no until I had to cut some queer friends out of my life, too.

And I'm not "ACTUALLY bi", apparently. I'm a trashy homophobic stereotype fujoshi came up with. I'm not actually bi. Real bi men have an equal number of women and men they're into. Bi is code for 50/50 or else you're, you know. Basically fictional. Definitely doing it wrong.

Upon some digging, I found out the writer is a lesbian woman. You would think with all the shit lesbians get she'd know better. I've seen people try to tell lesbians they aren't lesbians because "oh you dated a guy once" or "uh, you had sex with a man, you can't be" and all kind of shit that makes no sense whatsoever. So for her to turn around and go, "there is a single correct way to be a bi man" is just insane. Ma'am. Ma'am. You should know that's not how queerness works! You're queer!

This has annoyed me so much that for the first time in nine years I have pulled up a Microsoft Word document and I am writing fanfic. I am going to write so much It's Okay If It's You, one-exception-only queer fanfic.

Because it's fine to be queer even if it's this way, actually. It's fine to be queer, period! There are not rigid rules to it, that's one of the biggest joys of it!

I feel so old and tired and I'm only 40. Jesus Christ. "ACTUALLY bi". Fuck. The world is broken.

--

[alwaysobsessed777]

SAILOR SONG PT. 1 - N.M.

**this is my first time writing on here so please cut me some slack.**

Words: 1014

Warnings: None other than it being sad (sorry)

Summary: Slowly falling in love with Nika. Things just seem to be going so perfectly, but nothing last forever....

I saw her in the rightest way

Nika Mühl. Where could I even start. Seeing her in the hallways, on the court, in the few classes we had; I wanted nothing more than to talk to her. She always seemed so perfect. I would never reach whatever planet she had all to herself.

My day was going as usual, except the fact she had moved seats in Psychology. Instead of sitting with some of her teammates, she moved beside me. Something about the way she threw her stuff down, she was sitting her out of frustration. It wasn't because she wanted to. I dropped my head, not looking in her direction. She wouldn't talk to me anyway.

"Hey," A small accent coming out with the word, "I shoulda asked but can I sit here for today?"

I nodded, not able to look at her. She shuffled in her seat, uncomfortable I could assume.

"I'm Nika by the way," She lifted her hand, wanting me to shake it.

I smiled, lifting my head to see a similar one on her's, "y/n."

Her smile grew, our hands meeting, "Cute name."

Instead of listening to the lecture, she talked to me. She asked me questions, she let me ask her questions. It was back and forth. Never in a million years did I think I would talk to her, but here I was.

"So, I can sit here tomorrow?" She asked, my brows raising, "If you don't want me too that's fine I ju-"

"No, I want you too," I cut her off, "It was nice talking to someone for once."

She smiled, "Well, I had fun talking to you too, y/n." She slid me a piece of paper, folded neatly her handwriting showing slightly from the ink bleeding through.

"What's this?"

"Just open it, I'll see you tomorrow," She waved, walking out.

I sat there stunned, I had spoke to The Nika Mühl. Not only did I talk to her, she gave me her number. The small note, there on that piece of paper was her number. Her name under it with a small heart beside it.

And then, she came up to my knees. Begging, baby, would you please? Do the things you said you'd do to me, to me

After sometime of talking and getting to know Nika, I found out she had a boyfriend. He was cool. He played basketball. He was made for her. She'd talk to me about him on our daily walks, something we started a week into being friends. She's complain that he seemed perfect, but she didn't want perfect. She wanted something real.

When they'd argue, which was becoming often, she'd come to me. She'd talk about how'd she wanted someone to listen to her, to actually want her.

"I would," I blurted out. Her eyes widened.

"You would what?"

"I would treat you so much better. I would give you everything. I would listen to you, talk to you, want you, everything," My face began to heat up, my cheeks burning.

"I know you would," She smiled, "That's why you'd make an amazing girlfriend to some girl one day."

I wanted that girl to be her, Nika. I kept that to myself. Sometimes I would hope I would just tell her to break up with her boyfriend, find her someone better, find me. I couldn't though.

One day, she came to me, crying.

"What's wrong, Niks?"

"Naheim," I rolled my eyes, "I know, but I think I'm done with him."

My face wanted to show every emotion, the smile trying to creep up, my eyes wanting to light up with joy, but I couldn't. Not right now.

"What happened?"

"I caught him," She broke, "He was with another girl."

I sighed, holding my arms out, "Come here." She listened, making her way into my arms. How could one mess something up with the perfect woman.

"You should show me," To say the least, I was confused.

"What?"

"I want you, y/n, to show me how you would treat me. You said you would do it better then he could," I was shocked.

"Nik-"

"Please, I honestly just need to feel loved by someone. He's just made me feel so...so...usless," I broke, I knew I loved her, I knew it. But, this seemed like she didn't want to reciprocate the feelings. She just wanted them to be sent her way. I couldn't say no to her though, it was Nika.

"Okay," I brought us to my couch, simply opening my arms for here to make her way to me. She smiled through teary eyes, laying on top of me, her head snuggled into the crook of my neck.

Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor

It almost felt real, I think it was real. The way she held my hand during the couple of classes we had. The hangouts becoming sleepovers, laying in each others arms through the night. We had never kissed, but I wanted to. I really wanted to.

"Hey, Nika?"

"Yes, y/n?"

"Can I kiss you?" Her eyes widened, shock apparent on her face, "Or not it's cool, I jus-"

She pulled me into her, our lips meeting. It felt so right, she felt right. The way her lips moved with mine. Her body on mine. I've wanted this, and it was exactly how I've always imagined it.

"Was that good?"

"More than good," I paused, I wanted more, "It was perfect."

I pulled her in for another one, a longer, deeper one. Her soft lips moving against my lips. It felt like they were made for each other. The act felt like a drug, I never wanted to stop. I flipped us, her on her back, I over top of her. Her eyes scanned my face, biting her lip slightly.

"Is something wrong?" I was worried I'd gone too far.

"No," She smiled, "I think I love you."

My heart fluttered, beating out of my chest, "I think I love you too."

Her arms snaked around my neck, her hands making their way through my hair. She pulled me in for another, and another, and another. That's all we did that night, we kissed. It was like we were both addicted, we were each other's drug.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: First time writing on here, I'm kinda excited. Hope you guys like this. Totally expect more from me on here. (I felt there needed to be more stories with Nika)

[bellestarot]

Pick a pile

What You need to hear right now ☁️

♡ Take your time to choose

⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢

Pile I

Pile number 1, you are an extremely hardworking, creative, and funny person with an aura that makes people want to get to know you better. You have a positive energy, but you are very constrained.

At this moment, you are learning to leave something behind, and you often feel indecisive about whether this is really what you need to do to achieve your goal and happiness.

I see that you are an indecisive person, feeling a weight on your shoulders about shaping your future. Everything is so uncertain that you don't know if you are making the right choices.

This blockage that holds you back needs to be released. You need to overcome this fear of challenging yourself and trying something new so that you can achieve your desires and happiness. Your dreams will only come to life and flourish if you allow it to happen.

Perhaps you have people you can count on, a friend or a relative. So take advantage of this support and trust in what you are feeling is your goal because I see that when you do, good things will come to you. Taking risks is also positive; stepping out of your comfort zone is beneficial. For some of you, this is related to a dream of yours.

For some of you, this might be related to a step in a relationship you want to take, or it might be related to a job position where you will need to give a speech or represent an institution. For some of you, it is related to dreams you have.

You have often set them aside, but now a light has rekindled regarding them for you not to give up.

Pile II

Pile 2, I see that after a long time, you decided to open your eyes to what was around you. And after that, everything started to make sense to you, and you succeeded.

You understood yourself better, perhaps liked yourself more than before, and appreciated the person you are.

It says here that nothing happens by chance. Sometimes we have to leave certain situations behind so that a new path can open up and you can receive all the good things from a place that was previously unknown to you.

You stayed stagnant in a particular situation for a long time, but the moment you realized that you are the only one responsible for your own happiness, everything changed, right?

Because you learned to express your desires more?

What you feel and what you want for your life?

Maybe someone created a romantic fantasy for you, promising incredible things, including loyalty, which was broken.

This person deceived you, lied to you, and maybe abandoned you.

But let me tell you something.

There are people who will value who you are and what you deserve. Do not accept something that you do not deserve.

You need some time to be alone and take care of yourself. I know you will get through this, and amazing things are waiting for you.

Pile III

It's not easy growing up, is it? Some of you are coming of age. Currently, others of you are learning from life how to be an adult.

You have an energy of youth that wants to discover the world, to know everything, and thinks it knows everything.

You need to learn to face your difficulties and not run away from them because that only hurts you and leaves you with all the possibilities of what could have happened in your mind. If you had confronted them, you wouldn't be wishing for so many things, right?

I see you having folders on Pinterest. Maybe writing in diaries about your future, what you want for yourself, and you are determined to achieve this, to have this independence to fly far from home, from where you are used to being. But as I said, it’s not easy having responsibilities. You might be going through some conflicts in your life that shake your mental state a bit.

The way to face this is by being less pessimistic. And valuing and trying to see the good things that happen to you amidst so much that hurts you.

Sometimes we don't value what’s happening to us because we can only see the bad things. But when you change your perspective, it completely changes your energy. We only attract good things when we are vibrating positively. That’s what you need to do.

୨୧┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈୨୧

[stvrlightgirl]

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part two

part one ←

summary: Your second meeting doesn’t really go as you planned, but you couldn’t complain. After all he asked you out on a date, right?

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: fluff, idiots in love, Remus is a lovesick puppy, Marlene McKinnon, cause she deserves it, talking about tough times, but nothing bad.

wc: 2,4k

Enjoy!

“So you say he’s pretty hot, huh?” Marlene looked at you with a sly grin dancing on her lips, as she spoke.

You rolled your eyes at her suggestive tone, and almost instantly, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, causing you to subconsciously look away and hide your face in the comforting warmth of your coffee, as you take a slow sip to cover your flustered expression.

“I-I do think he’s…more attractive than an average man, yeah, but it’s doesn’t change anything.” you stammer in defense. "He's Molly's teacher, for goodness sake!" You huff under your breath, taking another, nervous sip of your coffee to divert your focus from the embarrassing topic.

Marlene lets out a hearty laugh, shaking her head in playful disbelief. "Oh, come on now," she teases, a cheeky smirk playing on her lips. She repositions herself to a seated position on the couch, to see you better.

You've known Marlene since you were diaper-wearing kiddos running around the playground, and she's been your rock throughout the years. No matter how tough times have been, she's always been there for you, even during your darkest days. When you got pregnant and after giving birth, she never gave up on you. You can't even count the number of times you've cried on her shoulder because life has been hard, and you've felt lost.

And moments like that reminded you of just how well she actually known you. Maybe even better than you’ve known yourself.

“ I don’t know…” you sigh, looking down at the floor to collect your thoughts. “I actually felt something, when he looked at me, but maybe it was just my imagination running, you know?” You chuckled as your hand squeezed the mug tighter. “He was just nice” you shrug. “He had to be nice, it’s his work.” You tried to convince yourself.

“But he's single, right? I mean, you're pretty as fuck and certainly not stupid, so you must have noticed that he's into you!" She raised her voice in frustration. "Why would he approach you if not because he finds you hot?”

“I don’t know if he’s single, Marlene, why would I care?” You frowned. “Besides, I’m not going to ask him that question, never.” You put the mug down on the shelf and then rubbed your face with your hands. “It’s just stupid crush.” You let out a half-hearted chuckle, looking back at her.

“Ha! So it’s a crush, you said it yourself!” She pointed her finger towards your direction as a mischievous smile grew bigger on her face, causing her nose to wrinkle. “I just can’t understand the fact that you don’t want to to be dicked down by a hot teacher, I mean, you’re wasting your time, maybe someone could finally jump your bones so that y-“

"Alright, that's enough, Marlene," you replied firmly, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as embarrassment washed over you. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying your best to regain composure. “It’s just not easy for me, and you know that, I wish I couldn’t overthink every aspect of my life, it’s tiring.” You gulped.

She looked at you with a knowing expression, the kind that mixed pity and understanding. You knew that look all too well, and hated seeing it on her face. It made you feel vulnerable again.

"Please don't give me that look," you whispered under your breath, a hint of pleading in your tone.

"I’m just worried about you," she murmurs, her gaze dropping to the carpet beneath your feet. "It's been nearly 7 years."

It’s been seven years since your last relationship. That night, when you told him about your pregnancy, should never happened. You should know better, but you were blinded by a manipulative fucker, who ran off the second he heard that you were carrying his baby. Since then it was hard for you to find someone who could understand your complicated situation, and you just stopped going to dates years ago.

You got used to the fact, that’s it was just you and Molly. And now that you had your life fixed up, why screw it all up by some dude?

"I don’t want to talk about it. " you backed away with to the hallway to grab your car keys “I have to be in Molly’s school in fifteen minutes.”

She rose from her seat on the couch and gracefully glided across the room to the corridor, her footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. As she approached, she leaned against the door frame and gazed at you quietly, her eyes searching your face.

“Just think about it, that’s all I ask.”

You sat down to pull on your boots, your gaze drifting towards her. She was staring at you intently, her determination clearly etched on her face. Her unwavering, steely gaze held a familiar stubborn resolve. You’ve seen it countless times before.

"Okay, okay, I'll think about it, but i can’t promise anything. " you finally relented, holding up your hands in defeat. Her eyes widened, and a squeal of excitement escaped her lips as she jumped up and down in front of you like an elated child. You couldn't help but smile at her reaction.

It won’t hurt to try, right?

Despite his natural talent for public speaking, which was crucial given his job working as a teacher, he found it difficult to concentrate his mind on anything today.

It wasn’t because he didn’t slept well, or his mood was worse than usual, it was because of you. You couldn’t leave his thoughts since he saw you for the first time in the hallway. That sweet smile adorned on your face when you spoked to your daughter, and the look you gave him, when you found his eyes for the first time. He just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The meeting was supposed to be chill, just some parents chatting about their kids, wanting to know their recent progress, just like every month. But things got way more complicated when you showed up. He must have been seriously sick to hallucinate the room lighting up when you walked in. Clearly, your mere presence was playing tricks on his overtired brain. He felt like a mad person.

“Mr. Lupin?” An irritated voice snatched him away from his mind. He quickly moved his gaze to the woman speaking to him. She was standing there with her arms tucked into her coat.

“Yes, what was the question again?” He raised the corner of his mouth nervously.

“I just asked about the school trip.” She huffed, clearly impatient.

Remus spoke, twirling a pencil in his hand to quell his anxiousness. "Right, yes. We plan on taking kids to the ranch next week, and the tickets are free, so we just need your permission for this one," he managed to say, his voice betraying a hint of nerves. “There will be a list on my desk, you can sign up, or not, and that’ll be all for today. I think we managed to raise all the issues earlier.” He reached for a piece of paper from his briefcase and placed it on the desk. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He couldn’t help but take a glance at you again.

You were chatting quietly with some parents in the back. He couldn’t help but feel being pulled back again to his trance. Maybe he shouldn’t thought about you that much? What if you already had someone else waiting for you at home? If not, he wanted so badly to know you better. You were pulling him towards like a fucking magnet.

After a while, when everyone began to gather around the desk to sign the list, you stayed behind, in no rush to join them. Finally when you stood up and made your way to the desk he felt his heart speeding up. Leaning over, you picked up a pen before quickly scribbling your signature next to Molly's name. You were closer than ever, and he could feel your perfume from such close distance. They were sweet. A hint of vanilla mixing with orange blossom and rose. The strands of your hair had escaped from behind your ears, cascading like a waterfall of silk down your face. They framed you, gently brushing against your skin as they fell.

He wanted you so bad it hurts his insides.

Remus watched you for a moment, a million thoughts swirling in his mind. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

As you straightened up, your gaze landed on his, and for a split second, you both locked eyes. There was a brief moment of connection, a fleeting glance that seemed to hold a thousands of unspoken words.

Your voice whispered through the empty space, the soft sound catching his ear and causing him to startle momentarily. "Molly said that they were painting pictures today," you murmured, your smile gentle as your gaze drifted out the window.

"Yeah..." Remus nodded casually as he leaned back, his shoulders relaxing slightly against the chair. He pushed back his soft strands of hair with hand, when they’re got dangerously close to his forehead. “It was supposed to be a way to get them to calm down for a bit.” He chuckled, his eyes seeking yours. “But it turned out into pure, colourful chaos.” He pushed himself up, closing the distance between you to stand by your side. His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans.

He wore them again, but today his sweater was sage green,and his wrist was adorned by a brown leather-watch on his wrist, and he even got boots to match.

He stole a glance through the window, his eyes falling upon you as you gazed at the scene. The empty playground outside was being caressed by soft wind, golden leaves carried away in a gentle dance around the area.

“It must’ve be-“

“Actually I-“

You both chuckled at the same time, gazes meeting and in an instant, it felt as if the world around you faded away. It was that gleam in his eyes, that captivated you so much.

“Go on.” you said gently, encouraging him to continue. Your voice was soft and quiet, the words barely above a whisper. A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and a faint blush stained your cheeks.

He looked back at the window to collect his thoughts.

He chuckled softly, "I just never introduced myself properly, which is kind of rude, to be honest." You sensed a hint of playfulness in his voice. “I’m Remus.”

He held out his hand, and as yours met his much bigger palm, that familiar tingling sensation shot through you again, just like when you bumped into each other in the hallway.

His hands were warm, but in that moment, they seemed almost scalding. Your own skin tingled under his touch, the heat from his fingers sending ripples of sensation radiating through you. As he held your hand, you couldn't help but notice the stark difference between your own cool touch and the comforting warmth of his palm.

"Y/n." you replied gently, your voice was barely a whisper not wanting to break the spell of the moment as you held onto his hand, or maybe he held onto yours, you couldn’t tell.

Your name slipped from his tongue like a cloud on a rainy day, soft and soothing, yet with a gentle rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

A moment passed, and as he released your hand, and immediately a feelings of emptiness washed over you.

“Well, it’s nice to finally know your name, Remus.” You smiled when small blush appeared on his cheeks.

His name sounded different on your tongue as if it had been destined to be spoken by you. Each syllable rolled off your lips effortlessly, like it was always supposed to be there. He found himself hanging on every sound, relishing the sound of his name in your voice.

"So...," he began, pausing to clear his throat nervously. His voice dropped as he continued, "Are you free this Friday?" He looked down to observe your reaction, his lowered gaze catching the hint of amusement on your face.

just think about it, that’s all I ask.

When you shifted to face him directly, you were startled by the sheer height difference between the two of you. He seemed to loom over you, his tall stature making you feel practically tiny in comparison. You hadn't noticed just how much taller he was until that moment. You couldn't speak for a second, overwhelmed by a potent mix of shock and panic. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, setting your body on edge as you struggled to find the right words. Time seemed to freeze, your thoughts a whirl of unease and surprise as you stood before him, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Yes," you managed to say, despite the mixture of surprise and anxiousness coursing through you. "I am free this Friday." A small, shaky breath escaped your lungs. The words came out softly, almost a whisper, but they were clear enough.

His shoulders visibly relaxed at your answer, the tension in his frame releasing some of its tight coil. A small, anxious chuckle escaped him as he continued. "Great, because there's this small café in town, and they have the best coffee around. Only if you're up for it, of course," he added hastily, his nervousness betrayed by the slight waver in his voice.

“I would love to, Remus.” Your voice soft as you spoke, a shy smile playing on your lips.

God, you said his name again, he could die as a happy man now.

The school bell rang abruptly, causing you both to laugh in amusement at its timing. It seemed like the bell had a knack for knowing when to chime in, always breaking the moment between you with perfect timing.

And you couldn't have been more happier when, amidst the chaos of collecting his things and saying goodbyes, he asked for your number. You gave it to him with a fucking smile on your face, because you didn’t care. Seeing him today had reassured you that even if things won’t work out between the two of you, you'd still have your normal, happy life, so it wouldn't hurt too much. And plus, you really wanted to. He was cute even when he stammered for no reason.

It was official, you had a date with a hot teacher.

part three

a/n: I really love the idea that this two idiots are just so smitten with each other, that they can’t speak properly, but I promise, it won’t last for too long…hehe. Also, if you want me to tag you in my tag list, just dm me :)

another a/n: Just wanted to quickly announce that part 3 will be posted probably next Friday, because at the moment, im busy sunbathing on the wild beach and sipping on my drink. I hope you have a nice day too xoxo.

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers

[roosterforme]

Midnight Confessions | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's getting harder and harder for Bradley to hide his feelings for you, especially when you offer to drive him home on his birthday. Before he knows it, he's drunk in your passenger seat, confessing everything he's kept to himself. He may not remember all of it in the morning, but you certainly do. 

Warnings: Fluff, drinking and swearing

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Hey, Midnight!" Phoenix called across the bar as she grinned up at Bradley. "Can you come here?" Bradley watched you turn away from Omaha and head in his direction with a smile on your face and a beer in your hand.

"What are you doing, Nat?" Bradley muttered to his friend, trying not to stare at you as you walked over to him. The last thing Bradley wanted was to get a little bit of attention from you now just to have to watch you and Omaha laughing together all night. 

"I'm giving you exactly what you want for your birthday," Nat replied with a devilish smirk. 

"Please don't," Bradley groaned, but you were already there, in his personal space. "Midnight," he said with a nod in your direction.

"Happy Birthday, Rooster," you whispered with a laugh, kissing his cheek so quickly he thought he had imagined it. "Next drink is on me." He swallowed hard, swirling the ice from his whiskey and Coke around in his glass. "Looks like I was just in time," you said, plucking the glass from his hand and heading for the bar.

"You're cruel," Bradley told Phoenix as soon as you were going. "You're evil, and I wish I never told you I have a thing for Midnight."

Nat rolled her eyes so hard Bradley was honestly afraid she wouldn't be able to see as well to fly ever again. "You think you're a locked box or something? You're transparent to me, Bradshaw. Literally an open book. As soon as Midnight showed up at Top Gun, I had your number. She's cute, she's smart, and she flies exactly like you do."

He watched you at the bar, and of course fucking Omaha was right there with you once again, his hand resting on your lower back. "I fucking hate him."

Nat snorted. "Omaha? You never used to have an issue with him before," she said, eyeing Bradley with an amused look. 

"He's annoying," Bradley said lamely. "And he's got nothing going for him except for that jawline." 

"Hmm," Nat hummed, shaking her head and scrutinizing him. "He's got pretty eyes too. And nice teeth. And his hair is actually similar to yours."

Bradley grunted and tried to ignore the scene at the bar while he picked up some darts. It was his birthday. He should be having a good time. He sighed and threw three darts in a row before Hangman joined him. And then he remembered why he never played darts when Jake hit three bullseyes in a row.

"Happy birthday," Hangman drawled with a lazy grin.

Bradley was saved from having to respond when you placed your hand on his forearm and handed him a fresh drink.

"Thanks," he told you, taking the opportunity to look at your face for a few seconds longer than he normally would. Big mistake. You got his heart rate going and made him feel speechless, and you weren't even doing anything. 

"So, what does the birthday boy have planned for the rest of the night?" you asked, staying with him even though Omaha was hanging around. 

"Oh, probably just getting blackout drunk and trying to forget that I have feelings," he replied casually, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah, I've tried that," you responded just as casually. "It doesn't work."

"Shit," he replied with a laugh.

"Yeah," you said, leaning in a little closer. "But I have a better idea."

Bradley shook his head and grinned. "No. Don't you remember? Penny said she'd kick us out if we played strip pool again."

You started laughing, and the sound of it this close up made him feel a little smug. Take that, Omaha.

"I swear, all it took was getting Bob to take his shirt off, and Penny looked like she was going to murder us," you said, still laughing brightly as you took him by the hand. "But we can play regular pool, if you want."

Bradley would have followed you anywhere. And then you were lacing your fingers with his, just so briefly, before letting go of him to grab two pool cues. And Bradley ended up playing with you as his partner while his friends handed him drink after drink. You were pretty good at pool, but he was better, and the two of you were unbeatable. Plus, this gave Bradley an excellent opportunity to stand very close to you and whisper in your ear. 

"Nah," he whispered as you bent down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear before he pulled back a little. He thought he heard you sigh as he said, "Go for the corner pocket with the nine ball."

"Okay," you agreed, and Bradley got to watch you beat Omaha and Hangman. And that was really all the birthday present he needed tonight. But then you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Smoked those losers!" you said loudly, and this time you had Bradley laughing. Then his hand settled around your waist, and as soon as he felt your denim jeans against his fingers, he had to back up a step. You just smiled and turned to re rack the balls.

Bradley didn't notice it at first, but after another two hours, he was definitely drunk. 

"Give me your keys," Nat told him around eleven o'clock as she held out her hand. 

Bradley had to lean against the pool table while he dug around in his pocket to get his keyring out. He watched with unfocused eyes as she removed his Bronco key and handed him the remaining house key on the keychain that said I'M SO FLY.

"How am I gonna get home?" he asked Nat, leaning in a little closer to try to focus. "Nat, I'm too fucked up to even use a ride app."

She smiled and patted his cheek. "Midnight offered to drive you."

"No!" he groaned. "Nat. You can't do this to me."

"Happy birthday," she crooned, disappearing off into the crowd with his key, leaving him holding a pool cue as you approached him again.

"Why don't you finish your drink, and I'll drive you home?" you asked with a smile so pretty on your lips, he was just dying to kiss you.

He realized he was staring at you now, but he couldn't figure out how to control his body and turn away. Riding in your car with you right now was going to be a disaster. He just fucking knew it. And now he was still staring at you as your smile grew. He would do anything to be able to look away, but now you were giggling, and my god, Bradley just loved that sound. But he tried so hard to look away until you bit your lip and reached out to touch his forearm again, and then he knew he wasn't going to be able to look away from your face ever again no matter what.

"Fuck," he grunted, wondering who had let him drink this much.

You were rubbing your fingers along his arm, and Bradley's brain helpfully informed him that he could have a boner right now, no problem.

"Fuck," he repeated. But you were still smiling. 

"You are so drunk right now," you said softly, shaking your head. "Your cheeks are beat red. You look adorable."

"You're adorable," he whispered, and your laugh was loud and bright. 

"Okay, you just finish this, and I'll take you home whenever you want, birthday boy." You picked his drink up off the table and he took it from you before you turned away.

Oh. You had thought he was joking when he called you adorable. That was good, because he hadn't meant to say anything like that at all. Not out loud. He was going to have to hold his own damn mouth shut in your car. 

He had no idea how long he had been standing there with his glass in his hand, but he was watching you talking to Omaha. Fuck that guy, for real. But he looked annoyed right now. Bradley liked that expression on Omaha's face. He also vaguely thought nobody should ever be looking at you with annoyance, because you were perfect. 

Bradley took a few steps so he was closer to you, because he was drunk, and going home sounded like a good idea. Then he heard Omaha.

"What do you mean you're taking Rooster home? Like you're taking him to your house?"

You replied right away, and your voice sounded crisp. "He's drunk. It's his birthday. I offered to drive him home. To his house. You need to relax."

Bradley liked that tone of your voice when you were talking to Omaha. Especially when your eyes and voice softened as Bradley made his way over to you. "I'm ready to go, Midnight," he said, and you took his hand right away. Bradley shot Omaha a smug smile and saluted him like a real asshole, even though he knew nothing would ever happen with you. But the look he received from Omaha combined with his middle finger in the air had Bradley laughing. 

"Did you have a fun night?" you asked, slipping your arm around Bradley's waist to help him walk. He probably looked like an idiot right now, but he didn't care. 

"Yep," he replied. "Thanks for playing pool with me. And thanks for the drinks."

"Oh, it's no problem," you said. "I know you'll pay me back on my birthday."

Bradley draped his arm around your shoulders even though he firmly told himself not to. "I'll buy all your drinks on your birthday. All that microbrewed shit you like."

You laughed as you led him to your car and unlocked it. "Just get in, birthday boy."

"It's not my birthday anymore," he whispered. "It's midnight." And then he laughed and added, "Well, you're Midnight, actually." He groaned and ducked down into your car when you opened the passenger side door for him. "Just ignore me."

You leaned in and helped him get his seatbelt on. "Now that would be impossible, Rooster."

Your face was close to his, and you weren't moving. Why weren't you moving? You weren't drunk. You'd had one beer, hours ago. You should be moving away from him. "You okay?" you finally asked, patting his chest where the seatbelt crossed him. 

"I like your face," Bradley told you, and then he wanted to disappear into thin air more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

"Thanks," you whispered with a smile. "That's sweet. I'll take you home now, okay?"

Bradley just nodded and cradled his face in his hands as you shut the door and walked around your car. When you closed your door and started the engine, he dared to glance at you before turning to look straight ahead. He would be home soon. And he could climb in bed and this would all be over.

--------------------------

Bradley was drunk. You'd never seen his cheeks so rosy or heard his voice so raspy before. It was a cute look on him, even though he seemed pretty far gone. But teasing him a little bit was always fun, because you knew nothing would ever happen.

"I like your face, too," you told him as you backed out of the parking space. "It's a very nice one. Handsome."

Bradley groaned and gaped at you. "What the fuck, Midnight?"

"What?" you asked, glancing at him before you pulled out onto the street. "You're handsome. All you guys are."

"Fucking Omaha," Bradley muttered, and you laughed as he cross his arms. 

"You don't like Omaha?"

Bradley scoffed. "Lieutenant Jawline? He can fuck right off."

You were now howling with laughter as you tried to make a left turn. "What does that make you then? Lieutenant Mustache?"

Bradley chuckled and tilted his head back. "I guess so. But that would make you Lieutenant Sexy Laugh and Beautiful Face."

You gasped and glanced at him as your belly swooped. He was flirting with you. But he was drunk. "That's too long to fit on my name tag."

"Baby, you're so perfect, you deserve two name tags. Maybe even three," he mumbled. "Maybe even a hundred name tags. I can think of a hundred different things I like about you."

You swallowed hard as you turned onto his street. After you had driven two blocks in a daze, you asked, "What's your house number?" You couldn't remember. You were having a hard time remembering anything. Because Bradley Bradshaw could think of a hundred different things he liked about you.

"I dunno," he groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair. "I can't remember anything except that time you wore shorts when we went to the beach and your bikini top was pink, and Nat made fun of me for being too embarrassed to tell you I think you're pretty."

You laughed softly as Bradley's eyes opened wide. "You are so drunk, Rooster! I can't believe we got you this drunk."

"I'm not that drunk," he muttered, turning in his seat to look at you as the light turned green.

"You don't even remember your house number!" you said, driving slowly down the street 

"I think it has an eight in it."

You laughed and pulled over, turning to look at him. "Rooster, what am I supposed to do with you?"

His eyes were soft as he lazily searched your face. "I can think of a few things. They all involve your lips."

You were the one gaping now. His eyes were unfocused, and no matter how badly you wanted to feel his mustache against your skin, you kept yourself a few feet away from him. When he leaned in, you brushed your fingers through his hair to keep him from getting closer. "Rooster," you whispered as he melted into your touch. "Do you want me to just take you to my place?"

His eyes bugged out, and he started to stutter. "Shit, I, well... Midnight, I-I..."

You let yourself stroke your fingers through his hair for a few more seconds before you eased him back against the seat and pulled back away from the curb. "You can sleep it off at my place, and I'll take you back for your Bronco in the morning."

"Sleep? At your place? Of all the things I have imagined doing there, sleep was not one of them."

He was very clearly a mess at the moment, but you couldn't help yourself. "Oh really? What have you imagined?"

He groaned loudly, closing his eyes and rubbing his palms along his face. "Imagined kissing you after I took you out to dinner. Kissing you on your couch and in your bed. Imagined how good you must taste."

Then he was quiet. You thought he must have fallen asleep. And as you pulled up to park in front of your apartment, you couldn't believe you'd gone out on a date with Omaha and let Omaha kiss you when there might have been even the slightest possibility that Rooster wanted to do those things. 

He was breathing softly now, his head resting on the window. When you got out and opened the passenger door slowly, he jolted awake and tried to climb out with the seatbelt still on him. You tried not to laugh, but it was just too funny. 

"Sit back, Rooster," you whispered, and you leaned across his big, warm body to unbuckle him. Then you took him by the hand and laced your fingers with his. You loved the way his hands felt, so big and secure. 

"That feels so nice," he murmured, pulling your hand against him. "Where are we going?"

He was trying to lead you away from your building, and you had to keep pulling him along with you. "Come this way, Rooster."

"Okay, baby. Whatever you want."

You just shook your head as you unlocked your building with his big body looming behind you. "I'm taking you to my apartment. You'll be fine, okay?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, and you wrapped your arm around him to get him inside. He stumbled down the hallway to your door, and once he was inside, you took his hand again. 

"Here's my bathroom," you said, turning on the light and leading him in. You dug around in one of the drawers and found an extra toothbrush. "You can use this. And the bedroom is next door."

"Thanks," he whispered, bending down to kiss you cheek softly. "Love you." You stood there stunned as Bradley turned toward your toilet and started to unzip his jeans. 

Then you quickly darted out of the bathroom and closed the door. You were stuck somewhere between laughing and dying from shock. This is not what you had signed up for when you agreed to drive him home! But maybe it was even better. Or maybe it was a lot worse, and he didn't really feel this way at all.  

When you heard the toilet flush, you headed to the kitchen and filled two glasses with water. You'd let him sleep in your bed and you'd crash on the couch. You were pretty sure he wouldn't even fit on the couch anyway. The couch he told you he had imagined kissing you on.

What was going on here? 

The bathroom door opened, and you heard him say, "Midnight? I'm getting in bed."

"Okay," you replied with a laugh as you carried the waters into your bedroom. "I think you should drink this." He was wearing nothing except his boxer shorts, and your jaw dropped open. Because he was stunning. Big and muscular and fucking hot. "Water," you muttered, handing him a glass. 

He downed the whole thing in one big gulp, and then he set the glass down, swaying on his feet. "I think I need to sleep."

You nodded at him, and he was reaching for your hand, and you had no idea what to do. "What do you want, Rooster?" you asked, but he was scooping you up into his arms.

"Sleep," he muttered. 

"With me?" you gasped.

"Yep."

And a moment later, Bradley was behind you with his big arms wrapped around you, and he was sound asleep. 

--------------------------

Before he even cracked his eyes open, Bradley knew he had a headache. So he just burrowed further into the soft, sweet smelling blanket. He knew this smell. It was familiar and comforting. When he gathered the blanket up and buried his nose in it, he realized it smelled like you.

His eyes were open then, even though his head was pounding. He had never been in the room before. But he was sure it was yours. And the spot in bed next to him was still warm. 

"Oh no. Oh no," he groaned, covering his face with his hands. "What did you do?" Suddenly it was hard to breathe. He was in his underwear. In your bed. Hungover. Yesterday was his birthday. How did he even get here? He could remember playing pool with you at the Hard Deck, and then Nat took his key away. And... oh shit, he got in your car.

He was stumbling out of bed, looking for his clothing. He found his jeans and shirt neatly folded up on your desk chair. As quickly as he could, he pulled everything on and headed down the hallway.

You were in the kitchen, wearing shorts and a tank top, brewing coffee. You were perfect. Holy shit, you were everything. And he had already fucked this up.  

"Midnight?" His voice was rough and raw, and when you turned to look at him with a gorgeous smile on your face, he thought he was going to throw up. 

"Morning, Rooster. Sleep well?" you asked with a smirk. Bradley couldn't formulate solid thoughts. You were handing him a cup of coffee. You weren't wearing a bra. He had been in your bed with you, and he couldn't remember anything that happened.

"Did we hookup?" he blurted loudly, and you froze with the coffee mug in your hand. "Oh, shit, Midnight. Please tell me we didn't sleep together."

You no longer looked happy. But you were shaking your head with your eyes locked on his. "No," you whispered. "We didn't do anything."

As relief washed over Bradley, you turned away from him with the mug and looked out your kitchen window. "Thank goodness," he sighed.

"Yeah," you said softly. "That would have been terrible."

"Absolutely," he said, still catching his breath.

But now you didn't seem to want him around at all. "I'll call Nat and see if she can meet us with your key." You kept your back to him as you reached for your phone, and then Bradley closed the distance to you. 

"Hey, Midnight?" he asked, taking your phone from your hand. You glanced at him over your shoulder with annoyance. "Thanks for driving me last night."

"No problem," you replied quietly, avoiding his eyes now. 

"But why did you bring me here?"

You rolled your eyes. "You couldn't even remember your house number, and it was so dark, I couldn't tell which one was yours. Now let me take you back to your car, please?"

But then Bradley remembered telling you he could think of a hundred different things he liked about you. He remembered holding your hand and kissing your cheek. 

You were walking across the kitchen away from him, but he chased you down, lacing his fingers with yours. You only looked slightly surprised. "Did I completely embarrass myself last night?" he asked.

Despite your best efforts, you were smiling at him again. "I thought you were pretty damn endearing, actually." You tried to pull your hand out of his grasp, but he held you tight. 

"I can think of more than just a hundred things I like about you. So many more than that." He pulled you a little closer still. "You let me sleep in your bed with you?"

You sighed. "Don't worry, Rooster. We didn't hook up. We didn't even kiss. You just spooned me and passed out immediately."

Bradley groaned and tipped his head back. "I spooned you? I got to cuddle with you, and I don't even remember it? That's not fair!"

Another smile was dancing along your lips as you nodded. "You're really great at cuddling. Very warm." But then you bit your lip and looked at the floor. "Would it really have been so bad if we did more?"

"Yes!" he nearly shouted, and your startled eyes snapped up to his. "Baby, I want to remember that stuff in vivid detail!" 

You laughed and now Bradley was smiling. And then you kissed him softly, and he thought his heart was going to pound out of his chest. "You said some crazy stuff last night while you were drunk," you whispered, but he kept you close to him.

"I am pretty sure it was all true," he promised you. "But I'd be more than happy to fact check with you."

"You said you like my face."

"That's a fact," he said, nodding. 

"You said you wanted to do things with my lips."

"Oh, yeah. That's definitely a fact."

"You said you imagined taking me out to dinner and kissing me."

"Many times."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you asked, sounding annoyed.  

He kissed you again. "Fucking Omaha, baby. What's that all about?"

"Oh," you said softly. "That is something that is basically nothing. At least on my end of things. And I could happily put a stop to that."

"Like today?" he asked, running his lips along your neck. 

"Like five minutes ago, Rooster."

Then you had your arms around his neck, and Bradley's hands were all over you. Your soft sigh as he kissed your lips had him scooping you up into his arms. "Can I have a do-over? Can we get back in your bed and cuddle?"

"Yes," you whispered as your mouth brushed his neck while your fingers went to his hair. 

This time Bradley kept his clothes on, and when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, he laced his fingers with yours. "I like this. We should do this all the time."

"We will," you promised, and his lips and mustache found your neck as he buried his nose in your hair. "I hope you had a fun birthday."

He needed to remember to thank Nat for being a pain in his ass when he saw her later. "I did. But today is even better."

---------------------------

Midnight, you're so lucky, babe! Upgrading from Lieutenant Jawline to Lieutenant Mustache! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me.

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[dira333]

Of hearing aids and other worries - Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

This was inspired by @alienaiver and her Amethyst Haze Preview. With her permission, I created Bakugo's love story. You don't have to read her Preview first, but I would advise you to read it. It's going to be more fun that way.

Join My Taglist

You can hear the key slide into the lock before it stops halfway, your own key blocking it.

Only a fraction of a second later someone bangs on the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You yell, rushing toward the door. Katsuki has the worst patience.

“Jeez,” he sneers as soon as the door opens, “Why do you keep the key in?”

“So freaks like you can’t break in.”

“It’s not breaking in when I have a key.”

“You don’t have a key, you just know where it’s hidden.”

“Very poorly too,” he points out as he slides out of his shoes and marches through your apartment as if he’s got his eyes on a villain and not your stove.

“Oh yes, come in,” you tell him with as much snark as you can muster - which is a lot. “How nice having you here, what brings you over?”

“What are you making?” He lifts the lid of your pot and sniffs. “How much Chili did you add?”

“Curry and enough. I know how to cook.”

He harrumphs at that, going through your spice drawer.

“At least try it before you ruin it.”

“HA?!” He turns, brows furrowed. “I know how to cook!”

Annoyed, you hip check him out of the way. “Sure you do, now get me something to drink and get out of my way.”

“Let me-” You glare up at him. “Out of my way!”

“Fine,” he huffs, moving past you in a way that’s much too close, his hips brushing your thighs in the crowded kitchen. He smells like sweet sweat and laundry detergent, a scent so distinctly Katsuki you’ve been able to pick him out of crowds just by that. It helps to have an overpowered nose.

“Shinsou has this tea,” he adds as he stares into your fridge, trying to decide. “It tastes great.”

Ah. So that’s where he went during Lunch.

“And you didn’t bring me any?”

“I don’t know where he got it,” Katsuki huffs. He picks a bottle of Barley tea for himself and your favorite drink for you, doesn’t mention the fact that you have too many different drinks - most of them his favorites - in an apartment meant for one.

But that’s just it. 

You might be his coworker on paper, one of the three assistants that make him being the Number Two Hero possible, but that doesn’t explain all the other things.

Like cooking Dinner for two because he had an appointment during Lunch and you knew he’d show up unannounced.

Still. You’re his coworker on paper and maybe his friend, but there are still borders that are hard to cross.

Do you ask him about his appointment? Do you ask him about Shinsou? 

If he met with Shinsou after his appointment then it’s something bad, right? He only visits Shinsou if he needs to talk about something he doesn’t feel comfortable talking to Midoriya or Kirishima about.

“Food’s burning,” Katsuki points out from where he’s leaning against the fridge and you curse under your breath as you start stirring again.

You cook quietly after that, not that there’s much more to do than wait and stir and wait some more. It’s your favorite pastime, really, cooking with him. 

Sometimes you let him do the cooking, pretend he’s won the constant argument of who’s better at the stove. It’s fun to lean back and watch him focus, tease him by pretending to mess with his food when he’s busy doing something else. Like dropping a bit more salt into the soup when he’s frying the chicken for example.

But it’s even better when it’s the other way around, when he relaxes in your presence, showing a softer side of him you rarely get to see.

Right now he’s leaning heavy against your poor fridge, ruby eyes moving over your figure in that gentle way you’ve begun to crave. 

“Drink something,” he points out softly, nudging his own bottle in your direction. At first you think it’s a mistake. You don’t like Barley tea that much, especially cold, and you have your own bottle to drink from not much further away.

But there’s a Challenge in his eyes that you can never back down from so you pick up the bottle and press your lips where his have been minutes ago, taking a sip of the cold Barley tea. It tastes disgusting but it’s worth the soft pink blooming on his cheeks.

“Now,” you say, well aware that your voice sounds weirdly tight, “Set the table. Food’s ready.”

“So bossy,” he points out, his elbow nudging your side as he moves to get the bowls. That’s not accidental, you know. Katsuki has a habit of being touchy when no one else is around. 

-

It’s only after Dinner when you’ve retired to the Couch, the dishes sitting in the dishwasher, that he picks up the conversation again.

“Went to see Shinsou today,” he points out, his socked left foot tapping the underside of your bare right. It tickles but you don’t pull away. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He huffs. “He said I should retire.”

You laugh. “He didn’t.” You know him well enough to know when he’s exaggerating. 

Instead of answering Katsuki leans forward grabs your feet and pulls them into his lap. It’s not really comfortable, sitting like this, your back now too far down in the pillows, your chin digging into your chest to properly look at him.

But you don’t say anything, not even when his thumb digs into your bare skin, rubbing an anxious circle over your ankle.

“I don’t wanna retire.”

You don’t answer, just look at him. He huffs, averting his eyes. You can smell the anxiety rolling off him in waves and sigh, pushing yourself up and closer to him.

“What did the Doctor say?”

Angry red spots grow like poppies on his face and neck. “He didn’t-!”

“Katsuki,” you nudge his thigh with your feet, your legs still in his lap. “What did he say?”

“I’m losing my hearing.”

“I know,” your voice is soft. You’ve been over this before. As far as you know you’re the only one of his assistants who knows just how bad it already is. His hearing aids are well hidden, good enough that you wouldn’t know he has them in right now if you didn’t know better.

“I’m losing it faster than we thought.”

“What about protectors?”

Katsuki groans, loud and feral like a beast trying to break free. “Why are you all so obsessed with my protectors?”

“Because they’re supposed to be helping?”

“But they look stupid!”

This time you kick his thighs with enough force to push him further down the Couch.

“What the-”

“Bakugo!” You hiss, rage coursing through you. “Put your Ego in check! This is about your health right now!”

“This isn’t about my Ego!” He booms, getting in your face.

“The hell it isn’t! You’re too worried about what others think!” You bite back just as enraged.

“I don’t care what others think! I care what you think!” 

All fight leaves you as you blink, wiping his spit off your face.

“What?”

“Forget it!” Katsuki pushes your legs off his lap and gets up, trying to get away. He stumbles over one of your slippers and barely catches himself, giving you enough time to rush after him, reaching him in the hallway.

“Stop!” You sling your arms around his midriff, face pressed into his back. “Stop, right now!”

“No!” He sounds like a child. 

“Yes. We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.” You press your face against his back, smell the sweetness of his sweat. If you press your whole face against his back, does this count as kissing him?

“I don’t care what you look like,” you blunder ahead, embarrassed by your own thoughts.

“Thanks,” he snaps, moving for the door, pulling you along.

“I’m already in love with you,” you burst out, trying to save what’s left to save. 

For about half a second, Katsuki freezes in your grip. 

But then, everything happens fast, too fast for you to react. 

He pulls your hands apart and steps out of your grip, through the open door without once looking back.

-

Sleep is evading you.

A part of you is convinced that Katsuki will be back. 

After all, there have been too many signals, too many things that indicate he likes you back. He’s said it himself tonight. He cares what you think of him.

But there’s still a part of you, a part that’s anxious and scared and desperate, that’s just as convinced that you’ll never see him again.

Better start looking for a new job now.

Something brushes against the windows of your living room. 

You sit up, listening closely.

There it is again. Too loud to be a cat or a branch.

You move to the side of your bed, pulling out the baseball bat you keep close for safety. A street lamp throws golden light through your bedroom window, almost reaching the bed. You slip out of it, hiding in the shadows, pressed against the wall as someone approaches your bedroom window.

The frame screeches as it’s pushed open.

“I’m armed,” you point out, your voice rough with anxiety, “So you better think twice before you get in here or I’ll knock your head right off.”

“Jeez!” The voice is familiar, the surprised gasp even more. “It’s me.”

“Katsuki?” You flip the light on, glare at him blinking back at you. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You took the key from me,” he points out. “Couldn’t get in through the door.”

“You could have just called! Or texted!”

“This is easier.” He slips in fully, closing the window behind him. “And how do you call that armed? I could have beaten you easily.”

“Try it,” you swing your bat and he steps back, turning serious.

“Can we talk?”

“I’m not the one who ran away.”

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I kinda freaked out a little.”

“Kinda.” You drop your bat and walk back to your bed, slipping under the covers.

“You coming?” You ask when he eyes you from the window.

“Are you serious?”

You roll your eyes and sit up. “Talk.”

“I’m going deaf.”

“So?”

“I’m going deaf!” He yells this time. You grimace at the sound, already seeing the next noise complaint. 

Instead of answering, you raise your hands, sign three words you’ve said before. 

“I don’t care.”

All fight leaves him as if pulled out of him with a single breath. You can’t even call it standing, what he does, almost keeling over.

“Come into bed,” you offer again, this time flipping the cover back. “And just accept it.”

“Why though?” He asks, not moving an inch.

“Would you care less about me if I turned deaf right now?”

“No, of course not!”

“So why do you think I would?”

He snorts. “I know my flaws.”

“Well, if anyone asks why I love you I’ll just say your charming nature did me in.”

Katsuki laughs. “You really are serious.”

“Never have I ever been more serious. Are you coming now?”

Finally, finally, he moves, pulling his shirt off and stepping out of his trousers, slipping under the covers.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” he points out just seconds before you slide over and into his arms. 

“Don’t care,” you point out, head settling on his chest. “And if you dare move away again, I’ll bite you.”

He chuckles, his grip on you tightening. You’re pretty sure you don’t imagine his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“Tomorrow,” you tell him, sleep coming in fast now, “We’ll talk about ear protectors.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

[sugarlywhispers]

ex!b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.

☆– warnings; ANGST. mention and description of panic attacks, swear words, cheating (bakugou to reader; uraraka to midoriya), description of a fight. But it ends in fluff~ c;

☆–a.n; honestly, i don't know if i'm going to add another chapter... i still have a bit more of ideas for this, but i don't know ._.

in the meantime, i hope you liked this new part! <3

also, i hope ya'll have a wonderful beggining of 2024!!! may this new year bring lots of good thing for everyone, lots of love and adventures, new amazing things and wonderful people to your lives!

love ya'll so much, wish you all ALL the good things life can bring; no more tears, except happy ones. <3

A few weeks go by, and Midoriya and you keep in touch, texting almost everyday. Talking about random stuff, important stuff, whatever the mood is. But it's mostly cute, random stuff, getting to know each other kind of feeling. It's funny how you both have been around each other for so long and did not actually know one another. 

The texting was cute. Like a picture he sends one afternoon, when his shift is calm and almost finished, when the sun is setting, taken from up high in a building. A beautiful sunset picture that you use as a lock screen wallpaper on your phone. Or that one selfie he sent when he shared patrols with Hero Shoto; you remember thinking how cute he looked posing next to the hot and cold Hero, with two fingers of one of his hands pulled up on a peace sign. Or a picture of a little puppy Hero Deku found on a rainy morning shift. He took it to the closest vet so they could help the little animal, and you find that so fucking heroic it makes your heart jump from the cuteness.

"I wonder… who has you smiling like that? Oh , I know… Mister Greeny," Mineta mocks, his eyebrows shaking up and down suggestively.

"Shut up," you bark and hit him on the upper arm strongly. He simply laughs.

Three months pass faster than you actually realize. You're better, you feel better. You haven't had a single panic attack since Midoriya Izuku entered your life. Which is good… it means good.

He is good.

Since that first Friday you grabbed coffee together, you both decided to make it your day. Each and every Friday morning, Izuku and you would go to grab coffee at that same shop you went to the first time; then he would walk you home as the gentleman he is.

It's Friday and you're waiting for him, it's a bit late already, but you know he is coming. He had a night patrol but he insisted to not break the new tradition - his words. You found it cute, so you didn't protest.

But now you're worried, because it's almost 30 minutes since you have been waiting and he hasn't come yet. Then it becomes 40, 45, 50 minutes. You feel your neck itchy, but you try to ignore it, looking at your phone. Waiting for a notification, waiting for Mid‐ Izuku to contact you. But nothing.

It's already been 1.10 hours long and no sign of him. You sigh and decide to go home, it's been more than an hour already. Probably he had something coming up at the last minute, or he simply forgot. He probably had a rough night and he didn't have time to meet you. You're not as important as his job, obviously.

You grab your things and exit the place, the kind girl behind the counter smiles sadly at you and waves her hand as goodbye. You smile, or at least try, in her direction and leave the coffee shop.

You feel itchy all over. This… This is… weird . Why are you feeling like this? You have no right to feel… disappointed, hurt . He's a Hero. He's freaking Number One, pro hero Deku. His job will always come first. But you can't help it. It's like…

You're not my priority, Y/N. Understand that you'll never be. I have to concentrate in my job if want to fucking be Number one.

You haven't heard his voice in your head for a long time now. And hearing it again is… painful. Hurting. Choking .

Every sound around you feels a hundred times louder as you walk, every light blinds you and you don't realize you're bumping into almost everyone around. The pressure on your neck is getting stronger and you can't breathe. You can't think. Your vision is turning black, like that night at the ramen shop with Mineta. A panic attack . You're having one in the middle of the street. How embarrassing . How pathetic . 

You want the blackness to finally evolve you, and don't let go.

And then you see it, you feel it. Green eyes and strong hands grabbing your shoulders. You know those green eyes, you have seen them before. He's moving his mouth but you can't hear his voice. He looks worried; why is he worried? You feel rough hands that grab your face as softly as he can, and they are cold. You aren't used to the cold, but you like it. It's refreshing.

"...hear me? Y/N, please breathe, okay? Breathe with me," his voice is comforting, so you follow him, you breathe with him. "That's it… You're okay. We are okay."

The sight around you starts to clear, the blackness dissipates and you see clearly. His face is the first thing your eyes find. You know him. "Izuku?"

" Yes! Yes, it's me… Hi, love," he smiles relieved. You look around realizing you're in the middle of a circle, with him. People are watching, some worried, some annoyed. Embarrassing .

You realize then that Izuku's hands are around your face, holding you with no intention of letting go. "Izuku…"

He blinks, realizing then probably your surroundings and nods. "Yes, come one, let's go…"

Izuku helps you stand, his arm surrounding your waist pulling your weight on him so he helps you walk. Everyone starts clapping, clearly recognizing hero Deku even in his civilian clothes.

He walks you to your apartment in silence. Until you walk into the building, "There's no elevator?"

"No, it's been broken since before I got here," you know your voice sounds throaty, and the expression on his face says it worries him.

He sighs looking at the long stairs ahead. He knows you live on the fourth floor. "Okay, then," he says before picking you up, bridal style.

"Izuku! I can walk!"

"No, you can't. You have been putting your weight on me the whole way here."

"Still, I…"

"Shut up. Let me help," his tone it's so authoritative you have no other option than to do that. Shut up and let him help, because you know you wouldn't be able to climb those stairs up on your own even if you tried.

On the way up, you can't avoid watching him. He looks… angry . You have never seen him like that, or better said, you have never experienced his anger, you have seen him angry on the TV, fighting villains.

"I'm sorry," you say, and he stops midway, his eyes traveling to your face.

"You're apologizing for having a panic attack?" He's frowning, his tone incredulous, but serious. It makes tingles run your body.

"I'm… Yes, it's embarrassing ," you feel your voice crack a bit, and you hate that.

"Y/N, it's not embarrassing. It's a trauma response. And it's okay to go through it. But you need to heal…"

You look away from his face, tears already burning your eyes. You can't help but hear his voice again.

Having panic attacks in public is embarrassing, Y/N. You have to control them. Don't be fucking weak.

" He said… he said they were embarrassing."

You know you shouldn't be saying this to Izuku, but you said it even before you could actually think it.

" Who said-…" Izuku stops mid sentence. Takes a deep, deep breath, and continues climbing the stairs in silence. You don't dare look up. He's so tense and angry, you don't really have the courage to witness that right now.

When you arrive at the fourth floor you signal him which one is your apartment. And even when you are in front of the door, he doesn't put you on the ground. He stands there, waiting patiently, as you search for the key card on your bag and when the door is open he enters with you in his arms. He of course takes his shoes off at the entrance and walks inside.

He doesn't say anything as he sits you over the small couch and sits next to you, his arm touching yours and taking almost all the space around you. His smell is around and you like it.

His face is even closer to yours when he asks, worried, "When were you going to tell me you have panic attacks?"

"I… I don't want to bother anyone with them." You tell the truth. You can't lie to him.

"That's what he told you? That they are a bother?" You simply shrug, not really wanting to answer. "Y/N, I'm not angry or feel like this is a bother. I'm worried, you need help."

"I am going to therapy. I've been going since I'm five, Izuku. I had a handle on them, they weren't recurrent until…"

"Until he left you," he finishes for you, slightly shaking his head and you nod.

Izuku sighs, standing up and you watch him. Is he going away? Is he embarrassed and going away, deciding not to involve or do anything with your broken self?

"Do you mind if I make us both tea?"

You shake your head rapidly in answer. He smiles and walks towards the kitchen. You follow his every move, being a small apartment it's easy to do it.

Izuku is… staying . For tea. He's not leaving. He's not leaving you alone after a panic attack. Like Mineta. But he's your best friend, Mineta has always been there; like you have been there for him even after the war he had to be part of at such a young age and he tried to push you away. Izuku doesn't have that obligation. Izuku… is your friend? Well, that's how you like to think of him since you got to know him this past months. But the category of best friend was not there for him yet. You were just getting to know each other. So, why is he here? Why does he stay?

"It's ready," he suddenly says, sitting back next to you with the two mugs of tea. He gives you one and you accept it a bit startled.

The sudden smell of lemon with honey tea that invades your nose as you bring it closer to drink immediately relaxes you. You smile after taking a sip.

You look back at him and he's watching intently at you, like he's waiting for your reaction.

"You remembered," you say and you really want to cry now.

He smiles, a hand flying to the back of his head to scratch it nervously, "You said it was your favorite."

You did. On a text message, when the topic was favorite drinks . But the fact that he remembered that you said it, it is… overwhelming.

Silence again. On your part it's more relaxed, but you can feel him a bit anxious. You decide to give him space, time to say whatever it is that it's inside his mind.

Until he does.

"You're not the only one… struggling still… with all that happened." He says as he sets his mug on the little coffee table in front of you. It's very small, mostly for decoration. Only space for the two mugs you're using at the moment. Izuku then lays his elbows over his knees, fingers fidgeting in the middle clearly showing his nervousness. "I have nightmares. Very bad ones, since the war. Uraraka used to help a lot, she was always there for me when I needed her."

This is the first time he talks about her this willingly, so you just keep silent and give him the space he needs to say whatever he wants.

"I was finally getting better… and then… she wasn't there anymore…"

"The nightmares came back?" He simply nods. You can't help yourself but to direct your hand towards his shoulder in a form of comfort, which he accepts with a small smile.

"I guess… we are two broken people, trying to pick up the pieces left. Aren't we?"

His eyes shine with tears he refuses to set free, probably also what your own looked like. He smiles sadly at you, before patting your hand that still holds his shoulder.

You both stay in silence for a little while before Izuku breaks the silence again.

"I'm sorry about today. I had…" He sighs. "I had a discussion with a partner."

Partner? You know Izuku doesn't have many partners. One is Hero Shoto, who also is his best friend. You doubt he had a discussion with him, you couldn't actually see Shoto in a heated discussion at all. And the other one is… Oh .

"What did he do now?" You don't even have to mention his name. You and Izuku know who you're talking about.

The green-haired man rolls his eyes. "We have been civil. For the sake of everybody around us. And if I'm being honest, we work well together. In fights, we understand each other perfectly. So we decided to just be professional and not bring up anything that happened."

You know this. Izuku had already told you this once, when he called you on his lunch break to talk to you about a cute little butterfly that he would send you the picture of when he was less busy and you heard Bakugou's voice on the back calling for Izuku. They had been on a mission together.

"Until…" Izuku continues, "Until this morning, when he decided to bring up our Friday morning's coffee."

" What?! " You frown. How did he know? Nobody knew, besides Mineta and probably Shoto on Izuku's side. Nobody else knew… unless…

"Paparazzis discovered us. I don't know how. I'm always careful when meeting you. I take a lot of turns and I disguise myself the best I can so they don't recognize me. But they found out." He sighs, a hand sliding his green and black curls back. "They released an article yesterday. About us."

Izuku takes out his phone, searching for something before showing it to you.

NEWLY BACHELOR, NUMBER ONE PRO HERO DEKU, FOUNDS NEW SWEETHEART?

Yes, my readers, this is apparently what it looks like. A young, pretty lady like this caught the attention of the Symbol of Hope quite fast, if you ask for my humble opinion.

We don't have much information about her, sadly. Only that this lady has our favorite Pro Hero on her clutches... Look at the way he looks at her in the following pictures!

Isn't it cute? Let me be honest, as a fan of Deku myself, I can't avoid feeling a bit heartbroken, but I also think that this man deserves all the happiness anyone can give him. Don't you agree? And after that sudden break up with Pro Hero Uravity that caught everyone by surprise, makes me think… Does this lady have anything to do with it? Did she catch Pro Hero Deku's heart from before, causing the break up? Mmm, so many questions, readers, that we don't have the answers yet! But no mind, we will try our best to find them! Be patient, and in the meantime, show a bit of support for our favorite Number One Hero.

You feel like vomiting. Your picture, clear as day, has never been on the front page of a magazine. Bakugou has always protected his privacy so meticulously, and that included you. The media and his fans knew he had a relationship, but he never let anyone get a glimpse of it.

And here you are now, on the front page of Go-zzip Hero magazine, the picture showing you sitting in front of Izuku in that coffee shop, talking so close to his face it practically looks like you're kissing. Oh, shit . You do that? You actually speak that close to him??

You swallow thickly, looking back up at Izuku.

"I am so sorry, Izuku, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know. None of us did. But I'm sorry I wasn't more careful…"

"Don't be silly. This is not your fault."

"Yours either."

You both smile shyly at each other. This is… chaotic. Being involved with him is… OH, SHIT.

"What? What is it?" He asks as he sees your eyes open wide in fear.

"Your fans are gonna kill me..."

"No, they aren't…"

"Yes, they are! Oh my God!" You stand, after putting your mug over the table next to his, a bit wobbly on the legs which makes him react fast to hold you if you fall, but you don't. You start walking one way to the other of your small living room. "I'm so food for the fishes… they are going to kill me!"

Izuku chuckles. "No, they aren't, Y/N…"

"Don't laugh! Yes, they are! Especially after what that journalist said! They even hinted that probably I was the reason you broke up with Uraraka!"

"Which is not true. I'll call my manager and PR team and ask for an interview with the magazine and clarify this. You don't have anything to worry about. Neither does Mineta. I'll clarify that we are just friends…"

That makes you freeze in place, frowning. "Mineta? What does he have to do with this?"

Izuku frowns too, looking confused at you. "Aren't you… Isn't he… Aren't you dating ?"

"WHAT?!" By Izuku's flinching, you realize you raised your tone a bit louder than you intended. "Sorry…Mineta is my best friend, Izuku. He's like a brother to me."

Izuku looks so confused, "But… But you always speak about him. He cooks for you, he is… he is here almost everyday for you, and he did all that stuff to piss off Bakugou for you, like a…"

"Like a brother would." You smile. "I do think that somehow our souls are connected, because I know I could leave apart from anyone, except him . He's that annoying sticky thing you get used to living with and don't want to unstick, because if you do something will miss. Because he's my brother. I wouldn't be able to live without his annoying ass." Izuku laughs with you. You walk back to sitting next to him as silence comes back. Then, you keep talking, "Mineta has been there when I had no one. Even when we were five years old and my parents died in a car accident, provoked by a hero-villain fight." Deku tenses, but keeps his attention on you. "We used to play heroes when we were kids and fantasize about how we were going to be Number One. Both of us, together. And then the accident happened. I was left alone. I didn't have much family around, only my old great-grandma that was barely suitable to raise a child. So I was given to the state. I went to an orphanage."

You don't know why you're baring your soul to Izuku like this. This was a painful, very intimate part of your history nobody knew but Mineta. Not even Bakugou knew. He never insisted for you to tell him. He simply accepted that you were Mineta's best friend, end of sentence. He never questioned anything. Now you wonder if that was a good or a bad thing.

"That's when your panic attacks began?" He asks a bit timidly. You nod.

"It happened that same day, when I was given the news about their deaths. A kind lady had been there with me, explaining what it all meant. She was kind, but she didn't have much experience. Imagine walking into a room as a kid where your parents are lying dead in two stretchers and being told these are your parents and you're not gonna see them anymore ." Izuku flinches again, a chill clearly running down his back. "A few hours later, I had my first panic attack. I lost consciousness for almost an hour. It was the longest one I ever had and doctors were worried not enough oxygen had gone to my brain, considering that even when I woke up I wasn't talking to anyone."

"Until Mineta and Auntie Asiki came to see me at the hospital. The second Mineta lay down next to me in the hospital bed, I started crying, and he held me. We were kids, not knowing anything about life, and he still understood that I needed him. Auntie Asiki offered to bring me home with her and Mineta, but the forms to the orphanage had already been filled and accepted. It would take a lot of money, lawyers and procedures to let her, a single mother, take my custody. And while her heart and intentions were hugely appreciated for even thinking about it, it was impossible."

"I didn't know Mineta's mom was a single mother." Izuku frowns, probably guilting himself about it, because of everything they, as class A, had been through their years at UA.

"He doesn't like speaking about it. He really has to trust you to tell you about it."

Izuku nods, instantly respecting that decision. He then scratches his neck again. 

"So, you and him are not…"

You chuckle. "Not even if he was the last man on Earth." Izuku laughs too.

" Ouch , that wounds me so deep, bun," Mineta's voice is heard from the entrance as he walks inside your apartment.

Shit , you haven't heard him at all. The worry on your face is visible, because you have been talking about him, about his private life, and you hadn't consulted him before. You feel so bad, so worried he'll get mad at you.  

Mineta sees you and simply shrugs, "It's okay, bun, I trust Midoriya." He then winks at you and you feel the worry disappear completely.

"Thank you, Mineta. I promise I won't speak about it to anyone."

"It's okay," Mineta answers Izuku, pulling his thumb up in his direction. You smile watching their interaction. "I'm not here though to have this conversation." Your best friend gets closer to where you are, a worried expression on his face. "I was told you had another one, in the middle of the street.." You sigh, looking down at your hands that lay in your lap. "Was it because of him again?"

You nod and Mineta is the one who sighs this time.

"About Bakugou?" Izuku asks then, frowning.

You nod again. "My therapist is helping, but yes, they appear after I remember something, random things he once had said to me."

"Why it doesn't fucking surprise me…" Izuku barks as he stands from the couch and walks, just like you had moments ago. Mineta opens his eyes wide, watching amused at Izuku's reaction.

"He's such a fucking jerk… But we already knew that, didn't we?" 

Izuku immediately agrees with Mineta.

"I should have punched him harder," Izuku's comment makes you choke on the tea you were about to swallow.

"You what?!" Both you and Mineta speak at the same time. You look worried about the whole situation, the discussion clearly hadn't been a simple one if there had been fists involved. Mineta looks like a kid given the awaited present on his birthday.

"What really happened, Izuku?" You ask, worry clear on your tone.

"He saw the article, clearly. I came back from night patrol and was changing in the locker rooms, the whole night shift was there preparing to go home at the same time the morning shift was getting ready to start their patrols. And he started making comments about you and me, about how I apparently like his leftovers, about how you are a gold digger and now went for me."

"He did not fucking say that!" Mineta stands up, ready to beat some ass, Bakugou's, specifically.

"He did! I couldn't not do anything. I tried to be civil and only told him to stop talking about us, that he didn't know anything. And I told him to stop playing the victim, because he was none. The only victims in this story are you and me," Izuku looks at you like he's assuring you, "They don't have the right to even comment on this." 

"Hell yeah, Midoriya!" Mineta cheers, raising his hand for Izuku to high five him, and the green-haired does, animated. You shake your head trying to hold your smile back. "What did corn-head say then?"

Izuku laughs at Mineta's nickname for Bakugou, bumping his fist again with the man in agreement.

You roll your eyes. Jesus , men are such idiots with nicknames. 

"He then said that… I don't know if I should repeat it…" Izuku and Mineta both look at you, Mineta already intuitively knows.

"He talked… he talked about our sex life, didn't he?" You ask after a minute of silence.

Izuku nods.

"Tell me you did punch him hard though…" Mineta is fuming, you can see the smoke coming out his ears, metaphorically. 

"Of course I did. Twice, before someone pushed me away."

"Well done, man." Mineta high fives Izuku again.

"You shouldn't… you didn't have to…"

"I won't let him or anybody speak about you that way, Y/N. Now that I know all you've been through, I won't even give them a chance to."

You move before you think, again. One second you're seated on the couch, and the next you're hugging Izuku. Arms around his neck strongly, as your face hides in your arm and his shoulder. It takes him a second, but he reacts by hugging back, strong arms surrounding your waist as delicately as he can, but also firm and securely.

You heard Mineta walk out of the living room towards the kitchen to entertain himself with anything.

And you feel… safe . You feel so safe in Izuku's arms, it's so comforting and nice.

You feel him take a deep breath over your head, as if your smell was comforting to him. You like that idea. That at least in something so insignificant like your smell, he finds comfort and peace. Relax and ease.

"Thank you, Izuku," you whisper only for him to listen.

He shakes his head, "You have nothing to thank me for."

"I do, though. Not only for those punches," you say backing away just a bit so you can see his face. He smiles proudly at the mention of the punches. "But because you helped me with my panic attacks… Twice."

"Twice?" He asks confusedly, but you nod.

"The first Friday we went to have a coffee, remember?" He nods, "I was waiting, and because it was my first time out of my apartment without Mineta I was feeling overwhelmed and… and then you appeared at the door. And all I felt was relief… I felt safe with you there, so it stopped even before it began."

You are looking at his eyes, and you can see the emotion in them as you speak. He then rests his forehead on yours and takes a deep breath, clearly pushing his emotion back in so he can speak.

"I'll be there for you… I want to be there for you, if you want me…"

"I want you," you immediately answer, "I want you to be here."

"Then I will."

"I also want to be there for you," you scratch the back of his head softly, as he bites his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. He looks like he's trying to control himself from doing something then and there, and that makes you smile.

"I want you . I want you to be there too." He repeats your exact same words, making you feel tingles all over your body as you feel his fingertips caress lightly, timidly, the bit of skin showing at your waist.

"Then I will."

You feel him moving, his nose caressing yours in a cute manner. Slowly getting closer, lips barely touching and…

"Sorry to be a cockblock, but your phone is ringing, Midoriya."

The bubble is popped , so you both back away, clearing your throats and fixing your clothes out of nervousness.

"Oh, yeah, ummm…" Izuku walks back towards the kitchen to search for his phone. "It's Shoto. He's probably heard already about the fight this morning. I should pick this." You nod, signaling to your room for his privacy and he thanks you as he walks there.

Your eyes follow him until the door is closed, and then they go towards the kitchen, where Mineta is standing, hip against the counter and a bowl of snacks in his hands he found somewhere, eating them slowly as he looks at you accusatory. A knowing smirk in his face.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything… yet."

You roll your eyes. "Spit it out." You walk towards him, picking some of the snacks on the bowl and eating.

"I have nothing to say, Y/N."

That's impossible, he always has something to say. 

"Or should I call you Ms. Midoriya from now on?" 

Ah, there it is.

You punch him in the arm and he laughs out loud.

PART I - PART II - PART III

[sinfulpanda16]

Smile for me Pretty Baby

Bakugou x fem reader

Bakugou is not one to comfort others if they're sad. It's a waste of his time but when it's his pretty baby, mans would do anything and everything to see you smile.

You don’t know when you’ve reached this point. You’re lying in bed with your blanket wrapped around you, holding one of your stuffed (f/a) plush while your other stuffed animals are around you and tears in your eyes.

You don’t like existing.

You think to yourself life is great, you go to a good school, you have awesome friends, a nice family, and a boyfriend that loves you. So why are you feeling like this? There should be no reason for you to be sad. 

Right?

Maybe existing would be nice if you were the you of your dreams.

You sniff and before you know it you start to cry again.

“Oi Shitty hair!" Bakugou calls for the redhead.

Kirishima turns around “Baku-” before Kirishima can finish Bakugou interrupts him. “Where the hell is Y/N?”

Kirishima thinks for a second "Y/N? I think she's in her dorm room. I haven't seen her all day." and neither has Bakugou which is why he's asked that stupid nerd Deku and all the other extras of Class 1-A for you. It's not like you to stay in your dorm room all day. You're usually hanging out with the rest of the class. The others have also noticed your absence which is concerning. What the hell could be going on with you?

"Tch. Yeah, fine or whatever" Bakugou states and wastes no time heading towards your room.

Bakugou slams your door open. You sit up in shock and turn to look at your door. You've gone comfortable with letting your boyfriend come into your room without notice. You didn't mind except for today when you're not feeling good and not in the mood for his sarcasm. You make direct eye contact with him. His red orbs... they're wide. Bakugou is shocked to see you in such a state.

"Oi! What hell is up with you!?" he asks in a distressed tone.

You frown "If you came to be angry with me then turn around and close my damn door. I don't have time for this." you say with a shaky voice. The tears running down your cheeks and dropping onto your covers. Bakugou has never seen this side of you, when did his beautiful girlfriend talk with a tone like his.

He walks in your room and closes the door behind him. He's not sure what to do, he doesn't know why you're acting this way but he does know he hates the fact that you do not want to see him. He looks at you "Look. I'm not here to bother you. I'm... sorry." he looks away and curses under his breath when he apologizes but continues to talk. "I haven't seen you all day. What's wrong?" What else is he supposed to say? He's never gone out his way to comfort anyone, this is his first time ok.

You wipe your tears away. You really don't want to be a burden with your emotions, so you say, "I don't know". Bakugou grows irritated. This is difficult for him, but he doesn't care. He's going to help you feel better if it's the last thing he does.

He walks over to your bed and sits down next to you. You turn away from him. You're embarrassed, you didn't want him to see you like this. Which is why you could've sworn you locked the door. A hand reaches for your cheek, and you turn around to look at Bakugou. The two of you hold eye contact for a few seconds until he finally asks, "Pretty baby what's wrong?" with his worried eyes. In the five months you two have dated he's never called you by any pet names. He's always said they're for losers and not for him, the future number one hero.

Pretty Baby. You like it.

You sigh "I feel like life would be better if I was just better. I feel like me being better is impossible. I feel like I could never truly be happy because me being better isn't possible" You sniff and wipe your nose with your blanket. Bakugou helps wipe your tears with his thumb and lets you continue. "I just... maybe I am just not meant to ever be what I want to be. Maybe I was born to be my trashass self. Maybe I was just never meant to exist. Maybe life would've been better if I had never existed."

What the fuck did he just hear. Did those words seriously just come out of your pretty mouth. You never existing to begin with, that would kill Bakugou. YOU being in HIS life was the best thing that has ever happened to him. The thought of you not existing makes him so mad. So sad. Why is baby having these thoughts? You're probably one of the best people there are. It's why all of Class-1A love you. It's why he loves you so much he often thinks you deserve to be someone better than him. You deserve to be with one of the best people like yourself.

You continue shedding tears and Bakugou says your name. "Y/N". You look at him and he seems genuinely hurt by what you said about yourself. With his free hand he grabs your other cheek and begins to talk with a tint of anger in his voice "I don't know who the fuck told you, you need to be better or what the fuck made you feel that you need to be but trust me when I say, you are one of the best people in this world." What? He looks deep in your (e/c) eyes "A world without you sounds like hell. Don't you realize, you're a bit of the reason why this world is so nice. It's because of people like you. You, to me, are already the better version you want to be."

You are speechless. Bakugou has never acted like this before. It's a completely different side of him. A few more tears fall but not for the reason they were falling before. You love him. God you love him so much. He wipes your tears away for you and says, "I love you, Y/N". Thats the first time he's said it without seeming annoyed of having to. You're so speechless you don't even realize it.

"Smile for me pretty baby." He speaks.

There it is again. You smile and giggle as well, to which Bakugou responds with a smirk. He did it. He was able to comfort you.

You lose him in his thoughts when you say "Since when did you become such a softie?"

"Shut up! You think I actually like doing this?!" Yes, he does.

You kiss him and he kisses you back and when you pull away you thank him. Your boyfriend helped you get rid of those thoughts and that feeling for good.

You like existing.

And your Katsuki is a reason why.

[chleem]

Flashing Lights #6

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter5 | index | chapter7 soon!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Mid-May 2024

It’s just you and Drew now.  

Laura left after getting the two of you settled in this hotel room, explaining how your stylists would be here in less than an hour, Vogue coming over to film a getting-ready vlog. 

You anxiously stand by the window, looking down to the city. It was beautiful; but your anxiety didn’t let you appreciate it. You wanted a smoke. A drink too. 

The no-smoking sign on the table catches your eye, and you look at the ceiling. Smoking detectors were on it. Fuck. So, you reach for the alternative. 

You pick the room cell up, typing the number to the lobby. 

But Drew hangs it up, then grabs the cell from you. You look at him, pissed. “What? That was important,” you lie, but it was partially true, you needed alcohol to settle yourself. 

“Really?,” he says, putting the cell back. He glares down at you, as if you stole his money or something. “I’m not letting you.”

You let his words hang in the air, sharp and defiant.

Instead, you reach for the room cell again. 

Drew harshly grabs your wrist, which you immediately shake yourself out of. “Hey. What’s your fucking problem?” You ask impatiently. 

“That’s what I should be asking,” he replies. After a few seconds, he talks again. “Why would you go out with him?”

Oh. So he’s asking about what happened last week. 

It was nothing. You met Theo at the grand prix, who was surprisingly friendly. The two of you weren’t alone on the yacht; there was a small party before it. Theo and you just stayed longer, and the media made it seem like it was like that the whole night. 

Of course, you were too drunk to remember the details of what happened when it was just the two of you, but from the pictures; yeah, it was really bad. Your PR team gave you a hard scolding for that, and even fines for breaking one of the terms on the contract. 

You cross your arms, holding your head high. You didn’t do anything wrong; Drew’s intimidating stare won’t break you; nothing will. “I didn’t go out with him.”

“Does he know that?” His voice unable to hid the mockery behind them. 

“Of course.” Lie. Maybe a lie. 

“Y/n.”

“What? I can’t answer for him. But I know it wasn’t a date.”

“Right, two people of the opposite sex alone, on a yacht-“

“Not a date-“

“With wine, table candles, food-“

“Not a fucking date-“

“Touching each other? Smiling like he’s the funniest shit ever-“

“Fucking shut up, Drew,” you say, slightly louder than him. What he’s going on about, is just stupid. You already got scolded by the PR team, you didn’t need another person telling you you fucked up. 

Drew does shut up, but only for a few seconds. “Fine, then what really happened, y/n? Tell me, tell me and I’ll believe it.”

You look at him.

“Why should I fucking tell you?” 

The anger in your voice isn't just directed at him; it's a mix of frustration and confusion, the feeling that you shouldn't owe anyone an explanation, least of all him.

Drew’s eyebrows furrow even harder, his tongue poking against his cheek. You go on; ignoring how you’re filling up his anger meter. “All you need to fucking know is that it wasn’t a date. Fuck, why are you even talking to me about this? It’s not part of the contract, it’s not part of-“

“Contract?” He interrupts, looking at you in confusion and disbelief, as if your point of view was absolutely shit. “What does this have to do with-“

“That’s the whole reason you’re here-“

“What the fuck does the contract have to do-“

“Every fucking thing, Drew. The contract has everything to do with you being here. You don’t even care-“

“I do care,” he answers quickly, but you scoff. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be talking to you-“

“Really? You do care? What do you care about?”

“You,” he exclaims, his features softening. 

Bullshit. “Your fucking reputation, you mean?”

He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. You furrow your eyebrows, feeling pissed that he’s laughing. “What-“

“You’re unbelievable, y/n,” he starts, and suddenly, his aura feels cold, different from earlier when it was just pure anger.  “Why can’t you just explain the situation to me? Huh?”

“I don’t want to,” you tell him, lowering your voice. No. You won’t- can’t tell him.

“Okay, because I might not care?” He asks, ignoring what you want to add on. “If I really didn’t, why would I ask?”

Drew’s blue eyes make you want to yield everything to him. There’s a bit of comfort in his eyes, behind all the anger, “because…because you’re just another co-star I meet. You don’t really care.”

You continue to stare into his eyes, challenging him to disagree. 

“But I do.”

He says it so faintly, that it felt like the words were your hallucinations. But he did say it. Well, too bad you weren’t one to be swayed easily by words. “Stop lying, Drew. It just makes you look stupid.”

You brush past him and reach for the room cell. You needed like, five bottles of wine to move past this. To even survive the film festival later. 

But Drew stops you yet again. “Let go of me,” you threaten, shrugging his hands off your wrist. 

He doesn’t budge, even after saying it a second time. 

“Why can’t you can’t understand basic shit?” You snap, finally shaking him off and putting the cellphone back.

If you knew your next insult towards him would end badly for you, you wouldn’t have said it. “You’re so insufferable to be around, you know that?”

Drew stares at you, furrowed eyebrows back in place. 

What was he thinking of now? Thinking about a better insult? Thinking about all your flaws? It’s evident that he wants to say something mean about you. 

“What? What were you going to say?” You ask, getting impatient. “Say it. I’m sure whatever you’re thinking, they have it worse for me.”

His lips form a small frown, but his eyes stay mean, staring down at you. 

Okay. Now this was annoying. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel like talking?

“Do you need help forming it?” You tease, stepping closer to him. His eyes flicker fast to your lips, before back into your eyes. “Let me give you a few ideas. Druggie,  coke-head, slut, oh, wait, BBC said something about me once. It was-“

“I don’t think of you that way.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“You think of yourself that way.”

“What?” You scoff yet again. 

“You could be so much better, y/n. But instead, you let yourself rot,” Woah, what is he talking about? “Always getting drunk, smoking your lungs out, and putting on this- this sloppy attitude. You give up on yourself when other people haven’t. Why- why the fuck would you do that? Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?”

His words throw you off track. It’s the first time someone has said this type of stuff to you.

You swallow hard, your throat running dry. For the first time in a while, you feel exposed. His words hit you like a punch to the gut, unexpected and hard. You freeze, unsure of how to react, how to process what he’s saying. 

“Why do you make yourself so insufferable?” 

You want to hate him for making you feel this way, for making you feel like you're doing something wrong by existing this way. But you can’t. He’s right, isn’t he? 

Even with the constant buzz stinging your mind, you still refuse to show weakness. You refuse to show that his words have impact on you. “No; you make me insufferable in your eyes. You hate me, you hate how I bring more trouble to you-“

“I don’t hate you-“

“You hate how you’re stuck in this situation with me, but you know that only I can help you out-“

“Maybe, but I realized-“

“You stick around and then act like you care-“

“How many times do I have to tell you I do care about you-“

“You’re just like the rest, Drew!” You yell over him. He shuts up, looking at you with furrowed brows. “The fame, the money, the people I can bring you, that’s what you care! You’re just waiting for your payoff. ”

The contract again. That fucking contract mentioned again. 

You see his Adam’s apple move, his features softening. 

The doorbell rings, probably the stylists. You look away from Drew, hugging yourself tight, to keep yourself together. 

He brushes past you, going to open the door. 

The crew starts filing in, talking and setting up like nothing’s wrong. The noise feels like a wall around you, a barrier between what just happened and the performance you have to put on.

You glance around. Drew’s gone.

He must've left.

——

You tried your best to make Drew’s words leave your mind. 

You drank a bottle and smoked half a vape in a the last few hours while getting ready, and still, his words left a scar on you. You couldn’t believe yourself either, affected by Drew’s fake concern for you. 

“Give it to me, y/n, we’re arriving.”

Laura’s talking about the vape in your hand. You take on last breath, before handing it over to her. “This dress is uncomfortable,” you comment while puffing out the smoke. This dress was very tight. 

“You look beautiful,” Laura says, and a part of you wonders if she actually means it. “Now, the cast is already moving along the carpet, you’re the last one.”

“Where’s Drew?” You couldn’t help but ask, knowing that you only attended the Cannes’ film festival to be seen with him. 

“Right… there,” she points out the window. You see Drew, in a black suit that matches your dress, signing and happily taking photos with fans. He looked… fine.

“Ready?” Laura asks, once the car stops. 

It was your first time at the Cannes film festival. You’ve always declined because of your ‘schedule’, but really, it was because of your anxiety. The flashing lights, the disrespectful questions, and audience that have high expectations. These reasons are mainly why you’ve always declined award shows, festivals, or any kind of event that required you to interact with people. “Yeah,” you force out. 

Laura opens the door, and steps out first. You take her hand when getting out, and while adjusting your dress, multiple cameras flash. The industry never changed, has it? 

Once you’re done adjusting your dress, you smile at the cameras, waving at them nicely. The lights are blinding, but you’ve trained yourself to not flinch to them. 

You walk down the red carpet, until you reach where Drew was. Of course he noticed you, all the photographers were shouting, hoping that you would stare at their cameras. 

He says bye to fans, before walking over to you. 

He doesn’t say anything to you, and you don’t either. 

Drew simply takes your hand and puts it on his inner forearm. You purposely grip tight, hoping to cause physical pain to him. 

The two of walk side by side until you reach the middle, stopping for photos to be taken. 

Drew wraps his arm around your waist, standing closely to you. You pretend something is wrong with his collar, smiling while adjusting it. You meet his eyes, and you just smile even more; acting. He smiles at you too; acting. 

Acting. Act. Act. Act. 

He whispers in your ear, making sure to get close enough so photographers don’t catch his lips. “You smell like grapes.” Oh. His breath hits your neck, and you feel your goosebumps rise. 

He moves away, looking at you lovingly; acting. 

You pat his chest and smile at him lovingly; acting. 

The photographers’ camera’s flash doesn’t stop, not even for a brief moment. All eager to capture every movement of this couple. Little did they know, while the both of you posed lovingly next to each other, hours ago a catastrophic fight happened. 

After a few more seconds which felt like minutes, one of the staff informs you to move up the stairs, where your other cast members were waiting for you. 

As you make your way toward the stairs, Drew’s hand hovers close to your lower waist, almost like a protective gesture. The warmth of his palm against your skin is an odd comfort, and for a moment, you forget everything else—the argument, the tension, the walls you’ve built up between you.

When you turn your back to the cameras, the weight of the moment hits you. The flashing lights and fake smiles are just a blur now. You face him, your words soft but certain. “You’re right.”

He blinks, taken aback, and lifts his hand, waiting for you to take it. “What?”

You meet his eyes, swallowing down the mess of emotions swirling inside. For a brief second, you think about pulling away, about keeping the distance. But instead, you take his hand, letting it slip into his.

You raise the hem of your dress slightly, your steps becoming more deliberate as you climb the stairs. “You’re right,” you repeat, your voice steady, almost as if saying it out loud makes it real. “About everything.”

"Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?"

“But, the industry shaped me to be this way. I don’t know any other way,” you confess, looking at the stairs while saying this. 

The two of you reach where your co-stars were, and you let go of his hand. 

The director of this movie, which is about the working class in the 1800s, makes space for you in the middle, urging you to stand next to him.

It was the director’s first work, so he was very eager to have his main leads stand next to him. Not only that, but because of your performance in this film, today, it was nominated for numerous categories.

You do, and smile at the camera with the director’s arm around you. 

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” the male lead, whispers to you, a smile on for the photos. “You never come.”

“This one’s special,” you reply, referring to Drew. 

He must’ve thought you were talking about the movie, “good thing I persuaded you to take the role.”

The flashing continues, but the staff informs that it was time to head inside. You turn around expecting Drew to wait at the top for you, but he wasn’t.

You hide your disappointment, seeing your co-star offer his hand. “I believe we’re sitting together?”

“Yes,” you smile, taking his hand. 

The two of you walked up the stairs with the rest of the crew, and into the main venue. 

——

The standing ovation lasted around ten minutes. Yet, felt like eternity. 

The sound of clapping fills the room, surrounding you, and for once, it’s not just noise. It’s recognition. It’s validation.

It felt…extraordinary. Like something out of a dream. You couldn’t believe how many you’ve missed out on. You want to soak it all in, to savor the moment, but a part of you can’t help but wish you weren’t alone in it.

Your co-stars would stare or blow kisses at their loved ones, whispering thank you to them. But you? No one. Not even your ‘boyfriend’, who was gone from the start of the night. 

Even when going up to receive awards, you wished you had someone special to dedicate your speeches or awards to. Or someone you could lock eyes with in the crowd. 

You had no one. 

Drew was still gone, and you soon realized, he was gone the entire night. 

——

You push through the door, finally getting it open after multiple tries. 

You immediately fall to the ground, your legs and arms giving up. You laugh, still a bit drunk even after sleeping in the car. 

“Where were you?”

Your blurry eyes squint at the source, and you see Drew. He’s sitting on the couch, half naked and hair still wet. “I should be asking you that,” you smile, the alcohol in your veins making it hard to control your features. “I missed you.”

It wasn’t you talking; obviously the alcohol talking. Drew knew that, because he walks over and stands in front of you. “Where’ve you been?”

You look down at his toes. They’re funny. “Hey, your toes are-“

“Where the fuck did you go?” He asks more firmly this time.

You look up at him. His jaw is tight, brows furrowed in something between concern and irritation. But all you can feel is the burn in your chest, the strange weight of his question. “Why do you care?”

It comes out cold, defensive, but his eyes soften, just a little, as if he’s already heard the answer, as if he knows the real reason why he does care.

He bends down to grab your arm. He helps you up, placing your arm over his shoulder. You’re too tired to protest; letting him place you on the couch. He walks away, but he comes back with a bottle of water, a trash can, and some pills.

“Hey, drink some water,” he says, his hand going behind your neck, as he helps you sit up. 

His hand is always so warm. Why?

His thumb rubs the back of your neck while you drink the water, surprisingly, you find it comforting. You finish half of it, before handing it back to him. “Wanna tell me where you went?” He asks you much more gentler this time. 

“The afterparty,” you reply, as Drew removes his hand from the back of your neck. The warmth disappears, and you actually feel sad. “Your turn.”

“I stayed in here,” he confesses. His voice turns quieter now, almost hesitant. “I didn’t want to see you.”

Just because of that, he leaves? What a selfish dick. “I didn't want to see you either, but did you see me leave? No.”

“And I’m sorry,” Drew apologies. You look into his eyes, and see the sincerity in them that can’t be faked. 

“I felt so stupid,” you continue, “The only person I knew was you.”

Drunk you could talk about whatever you wanted, and no one could stop you. “I know you hate me, but couldn’t you have stuck around? You only had to watch me, you didn’t need to do anything else.”

A tear falls down your cheek. It feels almost foreign, as if your body is betraying you, allowing a moment of vulnerability you didn’t expect, one that you didn't know you were capable of outside of a scene, outside the cameras.

You quickly wipe it away. “I would’ve never done that to you.” 

And you meant it. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, the only right thing to say right now. 

Silence lingers in the air, the two of you staring down at the floor. 

“It was my first time experiencing a standing ovation,” you start, giving him a soft smile. He sends you one back, a faint, quick smile. “No wonder why people like going to award shows.”

“You’ve never been to one?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

“During the first few years. But after that… overdose incident, I wasn’t in the right state to attend public events,” you feel your voice shake; the memories of that night coming back to you. “Not only was I afraid, but so were the executives.”

You’ve never told any in showbiz about your drug overdose incident. Why are you telling him? Maybe, there was just something about Drew that made you want to. 

And sure, everyone knew, from the media, where things are often exaggerated and vilified. But, did anyone bother hearing it from you? 

This incident changed your entire life. To others, it was just hot gossip. 

“Have you ever had a standing ovation for you?” You change the topic, his lack of response worrying you. 

“No; but it sounds amazing,” Drew says. “I’ll…I’ll look for you when I do.”

There's something in his voice, though, something that almost feels like a promise.

“Will that time even come?” You decide to tease him instead, uncomfortable with how cheesy this is going. 

“Sooner than you think,” he winks at you, before glancing down at the pill. “Take one after you shower; you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, before looking towards the bathroom. “I stink, don’t I?”

“Not the worst you’ve stunk,” he comments, and you roll your eyes. 

“Whatever,” you get up, but way too fast, making you almost stumble. Drew holds onto your arm, steadying you. 

“Need help?”

“I can manage,” you breathe out, shaking his hand off and walking over to the bedroom. You spot your suitcase, opening it and taking a shirt and underwear. You see the bed, realizing that it’s yet another one-bed situation. You peek out the bedroom door, and Drew immediately turns his face over to you. “Um, you can have the bed if you want.”

Shyly, you close the door, ending the conversation. 

—— 

Drew slept on the couch that night, without any protests. 

-------------------------------

word count: 3.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: a lot to take in for this chapter...phew

i have a one shot idea coming up, so look forward to it! same as usual, thx for reading, and sry for the long update (ignore my mistakes). i try writing as much as i can, but schedule doesnt allow it T_T

ps, is this a safe space? um, i was kinda losing motivation for this series a couple of days ago. but, i saw the taglist, and the ending i planned for this series. so, safe to say i got to writing!

[thatkippycat]

Asmodeus x Fizzaroli x Publicist!Reader Poly Headcanons

Hehe I made more stuff, because I'm feeling good today! Hope y'all enjoy! Also feel free to start sending requests in again!

---------------------------------------------------

• There's a lot of rumors going around that the Prince of Lust himself has been all cozy with one of the Lust Ring's top performers, so it was only natural that you would end up getting a job to "make things right."

• Afterall, you were one of the best PR people in Lust, why wouldn't you get the job.

• Maybe that's a bit egotistical, but there's a reason for it.

• You can spin stories better than most demons, even covering up a handful of true stories.

• You've worked for Leviathan, a number of Goetias, and even the Morningstars.

• Being hired by Ozzie and Fizz was a lot more work than you expected, though.

• Not only did you find out that they were together romantically, meaning that you'd need to keep the secret as hidden as possible, which was difficult when they decided to be sweet "behind closed doors."

• Dealing with the servants who had found out was a blast.

• (That was sarcasm, btw.)

• On top of that, you also began to develop a whole range of feelings for the both of them as you became a part of their lives.

• Turns out those feelings were somewhat reciprocated.

• After a few months, the three of you came up with the best plan you could.

• A lot of the controversy was directed more at Ozzie, as he was the one big on carnal desire over romance.

• Fizz was not as big of a deal.

• So, you and Fizzarolli began to "date."

• There was definitely some push back, but it was a decent success.

• A couple of public dates, love letters, and pictures taken by paparazzi(you, actually) later, and things were relatively calm.

• It wasn't a permanent solution, though, so you set to work on a separate project...

• Making the Lust Ring cool with Ozzie and Fizz's "non-existent" relationship.

• It did take a while.

• Scratch that, it took way too long.

• Turns out most people in Lust were actually okay with it, it was the press and other rings that were the problem.

• The other rings of Hell would take far too long to deal with, so you set your eyes on the newspapers.

• Lots of papers in Lust are actually sponsored by either Greed or Envy.

• Greed goes where the money goes, so theoretically, if the tabloids and rumors weren't as profitable, they may drop those stories.

• That left you with Envy, which had always been a pain for you.

• While Greed takes the actual newspapers, Envy picks up the cheesy tabloids. It's less about making a profit and more about making people feel terrible, especially when it's something the writers and bosses don't have.

• Luckily, you still had some good will with Leviathan, and so you doubled down on getting the stories stopped.

• You still were working with Asmodeus and Fizz, and even though you weren't in a real relationship, Fizz was getting worried about you overworking yourself.

• They both were, actually.

• You were dead set on this going, though, so they couldn't talk you out of it.

• They took the next best thing, though, forcing you to stay at their very luxurious penthouse.

• You even slept in their bed. If you wanted to, that is.

• You probably would've picked up on the fact they were trying to romance you, but alas, you were too focused.

• It took a long few months of persuasion, company scandals, bribes, and an unhealthy amount of blackmail, you got most of Lust on board, at the very least.

• And when you told them, they were thrilled!

• You organized a little interview with a local news channel (the host owed you, after all) and they finally came out as a couple.

• When you were asked about, you were expecting Ozzie and Fizz to tell the truth about your fake relationship.

• But they said you... could be a part of it for real?

• Yeah, they asked you out on TV, and you accepted.

• Even if the pressure from the show wasn't there, you would've said yes anyways.

• Your final task for them was getting an article in a paper out, talking about how beautiful Fizz and Ozzie's relationship was.

• And now that the job is finally done, you can cuddle up to your new boyfriends without a care in the world.

[dobadoo]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ YANDERE WANDERER ꒱ ˎˊ˗ alphabet

characters — yandere!wanderer/fem!reader

warnings — light mention of NSFW,slightly coercive attitude a/n — <3 suddenly got motivation to write for all main scaras..this character is so complicated..(that's why I love him lol) So there might be some discrepancy with canon

2.273 words

┆彡 How did he realize his feelings? How quickly did it happen?

You first crossed paths on the Street in Sumeru. Daydreaming, you accidentally bumped into the Wanderer. Automatically apologizing, you smiled slightly and walked on. You didn't see the face of the man who had the misfortune of crossing your path. But he remembered yours.

At another time, the Wanderer would have called out to the absent-minded passerby and expressed his displeasure at his inattention, but this time, for some reason, he didn't feel the desire to ruin someone's mood. Following his gaze as you disappeared around the corner, he was surprised to feel something strange, half-forgotten inside himself…

"No, I'm not going to get involved in this," - the former Number Six of the Fatui Harbingers shook his head decisively.

Yes, he decided to live like a human. But that doesn't mean he wants to go through the same pain as before. Perhaps the Wanderer would have forgotten this meeting over time… even the gods do not know the answer to this question. Or, on the contrary, they decided to remind him what it is like to love?..

The second time he saw you was at a doll-making workshop. You were not from Sumeru and decided to bring home such an interesting souvenir, and he just wanted to make a doll similar to the one he once had. The workshop lasted for several days. You did not even look in the Wanderer's direction, all the time thinking about something of your own, but he did not take his eyes off you. On the third day, the Wanderer began to get angry not only at himself, for making the same mistakes as he once did, becoming attached to a mortal man, but also at you, for not noticing him.

Although, unlike the other people he once loved, you did not give him anything, but for some reason your opinion of him seemed important to him. On the fourth day, the Wanderer could not stand such inattention to his person and began to cough loudly and demonstratively. You looked up at him in confusion:

Be healthy, - you said politely and again looked away from the young man. The Archons see that if the Wanderer were not a puppet, he would choke on this!.. On what?.. Even on the same air!..

For the first time, he saw that someone did not care about him so much. Especially someone he deigned to be interested in. The fifth day was the last day of the master class. Realizing that if he did not do anything now, it would never work out, the Wanderer approached and casually asked:

"Hmm… what is your name?" - You said your name.

"And yours?.."

"Wanderer."

"I see. Excuse me, I need to go." - You turned around to leave the place where the master class was being held. The young man who approached you, apparently to get acquainted, was very handsome in appearance: thick blue-black hair, indigo eyes, delicate features… it was hard to imagine a man as beautiful as Wanderer. But something about him repulsed you… perhaps his manner of speech?..

"Where are you going? hmh.I hope your majesty, you don't mind if I go with you..It wasn't a question."

"I don't need you." - you sighed, I looked at him questioningly.

"What, really?.. Just look at yourself. Thin arms, no weapon. Where are you going to stick your nose in?.."

"In any case, it's none of your business, and it's better to go alone than with a boor like you!.."

"Am I boor? I'm just telling the truth, and if someone doesn't like listening, that's their problem."

"You're right, of course, but if I don't like listening, no one can make me believe otherwise."

"I see."

Wanderer chuckled. His interest in you grew even stronger. The former "balladeer" didn't understand what it was about you that he liked so much, both the first time and now. The first time you didn't talk, so it wasn't the so-called "intelligence." Beauty?.. yes, you're quite nice, but he's seen many prettier ones. The human world is full of mysteries.

The old Scaramouche wouldn't have looked for answers to all these questions. Did he like you?.. great. If you don't want to follow him yourself, he'll kidnap you. He's the Harbinger, who has subordinates and a million ways to keep you locked up. But that's not the case now. It's not even that he's no longer a member of Fatui, it's just that he's become different. He decided that he wanted to absolve himself of all his sins, but how could he do that if he kidnapped someone, even if, one might say, out of scientific interest?.. he needs to think of something else. Maybe he would tell Nahida about it, or, if she was busy, the Traveler.

After listening attentively to Wanderer, the goddess of Wisdom gave him a book.

"All about etiquette: a complete set of rules for social and business communication,"

He read the book and found out that it was customary to address strangers as "you." It turned out that it was not very nice to start an acquaintance with rudeness even with a simple person, and even more so if you liked him… but it couldn't be that you rejected him, Wanderer, just because he was a little abrupt!..

┆彡 How jealous is he? How will he deal with his rivals?

He really doesn't like it when you care about someone more than him. However, the smart Wanderer will never arrange a massacre just like that. Although, is it necessary his given inclinations?.. Yes, he can knock a person down so much that it seems better to hit him a couple of times… In Sumeru, they talk about you as a strange couple: a dreamer with thoughts as light as the wind, and an angry kitten, ready to sink his little teeth into the throat of anyone who dares to look at her.

However, Wanderer may seem like a harmless kitten only to a person who has never encountered him. And soon it will become clear to everyone that the "kitten" is not as weak as he seems. Wanderer sharp tongue will quickly do its job. Your admirers will not dare to approach you. At least in his presence.

If someone bothers you too much, Wanderer despite having decided to start a new life, will go to extremes. Oh no, he won't kill that person. He'll just gouge out their eyes. If this guy doesn't understand that it's not nice to look at other people's loved ones, he'll have to show him that. Well, at least this way he'll never make the same mistake again!

┆彡 Would he kidnap you?

The old Scara, as mentioned above, would kidnap you without a second thought. But now he knows he can't do that. Maybe if your relationship lasts long enough for him to feel he has the right to control you, he'll restrict you a little: make you quit your job and stay home, demand that you come home by nine o'clock and not talk to people he doesn't like.

But if you kindly remind him that you're not his thing, he'll have no choice but to roll his indigo eyes and accept that you're not going to do his bidding.

┆彡 What are his rules?

First of all, you must not love anyone but him, just as he loves no one but you. That's the most important thing. He also wants you to accompany him wherever he goes - that's the only way he can be sure that you won't cheat on him. He's generally very fanatical about you being faithful to him as a lover should be. Wanderer knows himself well: if he's betrayed again, he won't be able to return to atone for his sins.

He will.never.let you.go.

┆彡 What does his behavior look like?

Everyone has a friend or acquaintance who likes to say nasty things, grumble, say that he will never help an idiot like you, and then help in a way that even the most polite and courteous people will not help. So. This friend is Wanderer

He can scold you a hundred times for allowing yourself to be deceived, but you will be sure that your offender will not get off with a light fright.

He can declare a thousand times that he doesn’t care about people, they have too many useless functions that only get in the way in life, but you will always find your favorite food at home. He can tell you a million times that you're a complete idiot, but if someone else says it… oh, man, are you completely tired of living?.. Wanderer believes that he is in a special position and has the right to tell you whatever he wants, but he will react extremely aggressively if someone else thinks the same.

┆彡 What happens if you get sick?

Wanderer will tell you a lot of things while you're sick. For example, that only an idiot could go out without a hat, knowing that it would rain, and she herself is quite sick and can easily catch something. And also that the human body is very weak in principle, so you shouldn't have gone anywhere at all, just like he said… but at the same time he will surround you with pillows, feed you with a spoon, buy you sweets and make you tea.

One day, when he will be adjusting the blanket at night, you will wake up and, in your sleep, say that such behavior makes him human…

┆彡 How much does he need your love?

Initially, Wanderer didn't want to experience feelings that usually hurt people, but when he admitted that he was in love, he realized that there was no point in being afraid anymore. Everything that could happen has already happened, and nothing can be done about it.

And since he loves you, it would be desirable for you to love him too. And if Wanderer can't open the door to your heart, he will try to achieve at least a tolerant attitude towards himself. However, this will never be enough for him. He wants his feelings to be reciprocated.

┆彡 Views on family

Girl!.. He's a puppet.. He can't have children with you, although you can adopt someone.. But he doesn't need it, he wants to live his immortal life with his beloved, and not babysit children. If you really get close, Wanderer will treat you like a family member. In order not to offend you, over time he will moderate his ardor and become less harsh in his judgments.

But if you don't need him, and you are simply forced to be near him… he will treat you not as a thing, no. If you put a thing, it stands there. And you, more like a pet. You tell him: don't climb there, and he climbs. You tell him: don't eat this, and he eats. You tell him: don't bother this person, and he bothers. Usually, of course, a pet is perceived as part of the family, but it is unknown whether Wanderer will put so highly someone whom he considers so inferior to himself.

┆彡 What kind of punishment does he use?

If you are too brazen and respond to his caustic remarks with aggression (in general, act like a brat), then he will ignore it for a long time, and believe me, he is very good at it. (but he still gave in after 5 minutes)

Do you like to be sweet?.. Great! In that case, why don't you, say, court him?.. He doesn't demand anything complicated: be silent when necessary, don't bother him and don't disturb him when he doesn't want to.

Kiss him when he wants and.. ah, you don't want to court him?.. Oh. For that, you deserve punishment. So, you'll have to sleep next to him and kiss your puppet for a long time before going to bed… If you don't agree to that either, the Wanderer will decide to gently caress you a little from below.. And you won't be able to avoid that!!

┆彡 What kind of pet-names does he use?

Well…he doesn't like to use pet-names like "sweety pie" or "my bunny", etc. (only sarcastically, and rarely).. Even the puppet like him gets sick of it. But the Wanderer often uses poetic nicknames towards you. He can compare you to characters from books or heroes of famous paintings.

And you have a surprisingly large number of such "second names": each time he calls you differently, depending on the situation and your behavior. For example, if you are a night owl and don't like to sleep at night, he calls you "Selena" in honor of the moon goddess, if you prefer airy, light-colored clothes, he can compare you to an angel, and so on.

The Wanderer is very protective of you, because he considers you the only person who can accept him as he is. And, you can be sure, he will do everything to not lose you.. Not after what he went through..

"But you are not angry, are you, my Persephone?.."

[itadores]

to the rescue!

synopsis: when you get cat-called on the street, who will come to your rescue?

note: he's such a cutie pie ^-^

pairing: nirei akihiko x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.4k

tags: gender neutral reader (they/them pronouns used), harassment (reader receiving), physical violence, first meetings

Free days are few and far between for you. Between club activities, a part-time job, and classes, the number of days you have free from all of that are rather limited. That's why you decide on your off-day, you're going to enjoy yourself. You're not going to think about any of your responsibilities, and instead, take yourself out around Makochi. You haven't had a chance to do so in a while, so it's perfect timing.

You make quick work of getting ready, packing a bag with all of the necessities for the day before leaving your apartment. It doesn't take you long to reach the main street, your apartment only a short walk away. Although you've walked this street many times before, it feels different since you're not in a rush to get from one place to another.

Today, you can simply enjoy yourself.

The sudden sound of somebody wolf-whistling at you makes you tense up, but you continue onward, walking further down the street. You don't look in the direction of the man who made the sound, hoping that your lack of response will make him drop it and leave you alone. Maybe, he wasn't even directing his attention at you, and you were being assumptive.

Unfortunately, you aren't that lucky.

"Where you going all by yourself, baby?"

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Your hands tighten around the straps of your bag as you quicken your pace, going from a leisurely stroll to a brisk walk. You don't want to make a scene and out-right run, but you really want to put as much distance between you and this man as much as possible.

The air escapes you when a rough hand grabs the crook of your elbow, forcefully stopping you in your tracks.

"Hey, I was talking to you." The man’s voice hardens as his grip on your elbow borders on bruising. An involuntary yelp makes its way past your lips. "There's no need to rush sweetheart."

He’s in your personal space now, his face much too close to your own, but you still refuse to look at him. You don’t want to look at him.

“Please let go of me,” you weakly say, still clinging onto some semblance of hope that this man will somehow lose interest in you and let you be. It’s illogical, but you can’t squash that hope.

Even with your face turned away from the man, you can still see how his ugly cracked lips pull into a grin. Your stomach twists at the sight.

“Now, why would I do that?”

He leans in even closer, his breath hitting your cheek. Your face scrunches in disgust, and you screw your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever's to come.

"Leave them alone!"

The loud shout startles you, your eyes flying wide open and landing on a wavy-haired blond man, who's quickly making his way over to you. He ends up stopping just short in front of you, close enough for you to make out the smattering of freckles across his face.

It's a bad time for the thought to pop into your head, but he's kind of cute.

You're drawn out of your thoughts when the grip on your elbow tightens even more, causing you to grimace in pain. You try and squirm out of the man's hold, but he holds you still.

"This doesn't involve you, so why don't you just let us be?"

The blond's face hardens, his brows knitting tightly together.

"I can't do that when it's clear that they're not interested, and you're harassing them."

The blond's words ignite something in your harasser because he suddenly releases his grip on you, making you stumble slightly, to focus his attention on the other man. You take the opportunity to scamper backwards, away from the confrontation.

"What's your problem, man? Don't you know better than sticking your head in matters that have nothing to do with you?" He stalks forward, approaching the blond until he's nearly chest to chest with him. He's a good head or so taller than the blond, and worry starts to bloom in your chest.

Is that guy going to be alright?

Despite the height difference, the blond is seemingly unafraid, squaring his shoulders as he meets the man's heavy gaze. However, you notice there's an imperceptible shake to the blond, which he hides by balling his hands into fists.

"It's my business when you're harassing innocent people."

That seems to be the last straw for the man because he lifts his fist, ready to beat on the blond. You gasp and look away, unable to watch the man who intervened on your behalf get hit. There’s a loud thump and an accompanying grunt. Once you muster up the courage, you hazard a glance over at the scene, pleasantly surprised when you see your harasser on the ground rather than the blond. Well, the blond is on the ground, crouched with his knees and forearms tucked under him, but he looks relatively unharmed in comparison to the other man, who’s splayed out on the concrete unconscious.

The blond quickly springs up, dusting off his pants before coming up to you.

"Are you alright?" he asks, concern seeping into his voice. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm alright," you slowly respond, still in a state of shock. Your elbow throbs when you try and relax your arm, causing you to wince and reminding you of your injury. Your other hand comes to clutch it, which doesn't go unnoticed by the blond.

"Oh no! You're hurt."

"It's okay," you rush out. When you're met with an unsure, disbelieving look, you try and assure the blond. "Really, I'll be fine. It's just some bruising that will go away soon enough."

"If you say so," he responds, entirely unconvinced. “If you need some ice for it, you can get some from Cafe Pothos. I’m sure that the worker there would be willing to give you some.”

“Thanks,” you say, rubbing your elbow to ease the pain as well as your nerves. Now that you’re no longer in any imminent danger, you’re becoming increasingly aware of how cute the man in front of you. You clear your throat before saying more.

“And thank you for intervening. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t step in when you did.”

A light blush spreads across the blond’s cheeks as he sheepishly rubs the back of his head. “It was no problem at all! I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

Oh, you think. You may be in trouble because he’s really cute when he’s blushing.

“What’s your name?” you blurt out.

The suddenness of your question catches you both off guard, but luckily the blond recovers before you have a chance to beat yourself up over it.

“Nirei Akihiko. Sorry for not introducing myself earlier.” The blond, Nirei, punctuates the end of his sentence with a slight bow. You do the same as you introduce yourself.

"Nirei," you say, testing out how his name sounds coming from your mouth. You find that you like the weight of it on your tongue. "Well, thank you once more, Nirei. I really appreciate your help."

Sensing that the conversation may be coming to an end, you go out on a limb to ask Nirei one more question.

"Do you think I could get your number? Just in case if I find myself needing your help again?" Your voice takes on a light-hearted tone at the end, a cheeky smile slipping onto your lips. You might as well make the best out of a bad situation.

Nirei looks taken aback by the question, a blush painting his cheeks once more when your words process in his mind.

"O-oh, sure!"

"Perfect," you reply, beaming. Mindful of your injury, you rummage through your bag, searching for your phone. Once you find it through the clutter, you hand it to Nirei, allowing him to input his contact information. You add a little smiley face emoji by his name when he hands you your phone back.

"I know I sound like a broken record, but thank you again, Nirei." You give him a little wave as you get ready to depart. "I'll see you around?"

"Y-yeah! I'll see you," he replies, sounding a little dazed.

It makes you giggle lightly as you begin to make your way down the street you were walking along before you were interrupted. Although you could have gone without the cat-calling today, you're glad you got to meet Nirei.

You'll definitely be reaching out to him sooner rather than later.

[jennay]

Let me take care of you

Request: I don't know if you know, but Noah kind of lost his voice during a concert(?) when you can, can you write that the reader flew out to take care of him or just to be there with him? :c ♥️ You choose whether they're friends or in a relationship, whatever you feel. Don't overwhelm yourself, precious; we love you more♥️♥️

No warnings

An: sorry I put a friends to lovers trope. 😅 thank you for this request. I loved it.

Words 2800ish

Noah Sebastian x reader

Noah Master list

You had always been terrified of heights. The mere thought of being high up in the air made your palms sweat and your stomach churn.

So, how you boarded a plane and flew for more than half a minute was a mystery to you. But you did it for Noah, your best friend, who was going through a rough patch. Your sneaky self conspired with the other three men to visit without Noah knowing.

He'd lost his voice and had to cancel several shows, which made him feel guilty and depressed.

He kept blaming himself for not taking better care of his health even though the others assured him that it was not his fault and that he would recover soon.

You had booked a car online, but when you got to the rental center, you faced an unexpected problem. The vehicle you had reserved was unavailable, and the counter clerk seemed clueless about what to do. He asked you to wait in the lobby while he talked to his manager, promising to sort things out as soon as possible. You felt your blood boil with frustration. You hated waiting - especially when you had paid for something in advance. You glared at the clerk as he walked away, wishing you could zap him with your eyes. You grabbed your phone and dialed Noah's number, hoping to check on him. You waited for him to pick up but heard a different voice on the other end instead.

"Hello, this is Noah's assistant. How can I direct your call?" It was Jolly; his thick accent and cheerful tone always made you smile.

"Hey, Jolly. It's me." You chuckled. "Is Noah paying you well? You seem to be working very hard lately."

He laughs back, "He doesn't pay me shit! I'm just that good of a friend."

"Well, speaking of the devil, where is he?" You ask.

"Sleeping... I saw it was you so I answered for him. Are you here yet?" He whispers, and you hear the sound of a door closing. "Sorry, that was loud. I don't want to blow it. Must escape into the other room." He says, giggling like a child.

"I'm in the same state…city even, but there seems to be some fucking confusion with the car I rented, and it's taking everything in me not to lose my shit right now," you say with a sigh. "Why is this happening?"

You run your hand down your face, feeling lost and not knowing what to do. "Ah, the classic 'I rented a car, and now I'm stuck' situation. You know what they say: 'Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.'" He quips, "Do you need someone to come get you, or are you going to wait it out?"

"OK, well, nobody says that except you. I'm gonna wait. I hate not having my own way around." You pause when you hear your name called at the front desk.

He laughs, "No, I'm pretty sure that's how it's said, y/n. My English is good."

You roll your eyes, letting out a small giggle. "I gotta go. I'll call you when I get to the hotel. Like, I'll actually call your phone."

"See you soon. OK, this is the part where I say goodbye, right?" He laughs.

"Yes, goodbye!" You click end and start toward the desk, wondering how you ended up with the strangest people being some of your closest friends.

After a long, exhausting drive, you finally arrived at the hotel's parking lot. You took out your cell phone and called Jolly, hoping he would come down and help you with your luggage.

You waited and waited and waited…

"I'm coming." He said abruptly and hung up.

You stared at your phone in disbelief. What was that? Did he just cut you off without even saying goodbye? What if you had something important to tell him?

You got out of the car, putting on your sunglasses. You grabbed your backpack from the back seat and closed the car door, leaning against it as you waited for Jolly to show up.

You started to doubt your decision to come here; if Noah was sick, would he appreciate your surprise visit? You shook your head; of course, he would.

You feel excited when you see the tall Swede walking towards you with a goofy smile; he opens his arms wide, and you run to him, hugging him tightly.

"You made it!" He exclaimed.

You pulled away, grinning, "Barely. I think I only cried once on the plane, so that's an improvement, " you joke while adjusting your bag. "Lead the way," you say, gesturing to the door.

"Someone's eager," he teased, opening the door. "I'm excited to see everyone. I miss you guys so much," you said with exaggerated emotion.

He followed behind you as you sprinted up the stairs. "Oh, come on. Don't lie to me. You're dying to see Noah... Just admit it," he said, poking fun at you.

You stopped in the hallway, making him bump into you. You turned to face him, poking his chest and giving him a fierce glare, "Shut your mouth!"

He laughs, gently grabbing your shoulders, keeping you at bay. "Alright, pitbull, calm down!"

You shake your head and continue to walk, "Sorry." You mumble. "It's just, nobody needs to know that. I honestly didn't even want to tell you." You take a deep breath when you feel his arm lazily drape over your shoulder.

"Maybe it's time to tell him instead of telling me." He looks down at you, waiting for a response.

"Hear me out... I can just not say anything and keep my friendship intact," you say.

Jolly's arm drops from your shoulders as he points to the door. He grabs his key and unlocks the door, pushing you in first.

"This place is huge," you say as you peek around. You'd barely entered the kitchen and already felt lost.

"Down the hall doors on the left. Beware, the other two are lurking and waiting for your arrival," he warns.

As he's warning you, you hear a sudden commotion from around the corner. Two figures emerge, dart guns in their hands, and they laugh maniacally as they start shooting at you. You barely have time to react before the first dart hits you in the face. You instinctively raise your arms to shield yourself from the barrage of incoming darts.

"Fucking assholes!" You yell out in frustration, trying to catch your breath as you choke on your laughter. You quickly scan your surroundings for cover and spot Jolly nearby. You run towards him and hide behind him, hoping that he'll provide some protection from the incoming fire.

Jolly groans as he gets pelted with the soft bullets but doesn't move. You peek from behind him and see that the men are still laughing and shooting at you.

From behind them, you hear a door creak open and feet scruffing against the floor.

"What the fuck is going on?" you hear Noah's hoarse voice ask.

You poke your head around Jolly's torso, and your eyes land on Noah. You smile with excitement, feeling your stomach flip.

You run past Nicholas and Folio, flipping them off in the process and laughing hysterically as you jump into Noah's arms. As you cling to him, you can feel his body tense up in surprise. He looks down at you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape, as if he can't believe what happened. You can tell he hasn't processed that you're there yet.

"What the…where did you? You're here," he manages to stutter out. His body relaxes, and he squeezes you gently, engulfing you in his tattooed arms. "What are you doing here?"

You pull back, still latched in his arms, as you look up at him. "Surprising you, dummy. Did it work?"

"What do you think?" His brown irises glow while he gazes down on you. "I'm surprised, but why? You had the whole tour, and you chose now? We're almost done." He says, chuckling. "Wait, did you get on a plane?"

You push out of his grasp, brushing your shirt down. "I heard you weren't feeling well…and yes, I did get on a plane."

"She only cried once," Jolly pipes in. "She's growing up so fast."

You shake your head, "...and then these two assholes tried to kill me." You glare at them. "You didn't even say hi! You just started blasting, and I find that rude. Could at least greet a girl." You turn your back to them, swinging around to face Noah. "Anyway, I'm here."

He looks back at you with tired eyes, "Well, as much as I love seeing you. I'm supposed to be on vocal rest. I'm going back to my room."

You stand there confused as he starts to walk away from you.

"Are you coming?" He asks, stopping before his door.

"Wait, you were inviting me?" You chuckle, "I'm comin'." You dash down the corridor and join Noah in his room. The room is plunged into darkness by the black-out blinds. You grin as he snuggles up on the bed, pulls the covers over him, and switches on the tiny TV on the desk at the foot of the bed.

"I had to make it dark." He explains, noticing your curious gaze, "I'm fooling myself into thinking nothing exciting is happening."

You roll your eyes playfully, "Nothing exciting is happening. This is a hotel." You tease, sliding under the covers next to him.

Noah gives you a sly smirk as he slides closer to you, resting his head on your chest. You wrap your arm around his shoulder, gently moving it up his neck and into his hair, where your fingers weave through, making him melt under your touch.

"I know you're not supposed to be talking, but I was curious how you feel about this. How are you coping?"

He lets out a sigh, showing his frustration. "I hate having to cancel shows, you know? It sucks knowing people were looking forward to seeing us maybe for months, and then we can't even show up." He buries his face in your neck, groaning, "I can talk, by the way, just not loudly."

You feel his hot breath against your skin, causing goose bumps down your arms. You wonder if this was the right time to tell him the truth.

You mentally shake the thoughts from your mind; now was probably not the right time. You didn't know if there ever would be a time when you'd feel brave enough. "I get that. As much as you hate hearing it, you're only human, Noah. Shit happens, and I'm sure they'll understand. They would want you to get better instead of ruining your voice," you remind him.

You feel his arm drape around your waist as he says, "I'm happy you're here. It makes things a little more manageable."

You hear his breathing slow down, and his soft snore comes from him. You let him rest and grab your phone, careful not to wake him up. You take a quick picture of your situation and send it to Jolly.

Help

Did you tell him?

NO.

Wake him up?

I can't. It's a rule. It's rude to move if someone is sleeping on you.

That only applies to cats, and Noah's not a cat.

You laugh and text back: Are we sure?

You put your phone down beside you and close your eyes, feeling the need for a nap after your long trip, and then you'd talk to Noah, maybe.

You stir in your sleep, feeling soft touches through your hair; you cuddle closer to the person's chest, feeling arms around you keep you safe and warm. Your eyes flutter open softly, and you are greeted with Noah's neck tattoo. You lean your head back, your nose grazing Noah's chin. "Hi," you groggily say.

"Hi, sleepy head." You snuggle your face back into his chest, not wanting to end the moment. You felt secure and calm, like you could stay this way forever. Until you hear the door fling open, you don't raise your head to look afraid you might get pelted in the face with another dart.

"You did it!" Jolly squeals when he sees you wrapped up in Noah's body. "I'm claiming best man at the wedding!"

Noah's eyes widen in confusion, and he looks at Jolly with a puzzled expression. "What wedding?" He asks nervously.

Jolly stares at you wide-eyed and yells, "Ah Fuck!" before leaving the room and shutting the door quickly.

You smack your hand over your eyes, wishing you could just disappear. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you contemplate getting up, walking to the front, getting on a plane, and never showing your face again.

Suddenly, Noah lightly pushes your shoulder and playfully smiles at you. "That was weird," he says. "Are you OK?" His eyes grow with concern as he realizes the color hasn't returned to your face.

You take in a deep breath and close your eyes. Your heart races with anticipation, and you feel sick to your stomach. But you quickly regain focus and open your eyes. "Is it THAT weird?" Noah's head tilts, eyebrows furrow together, and his voice laced with curiosity, "What do you mean?"

"The voice in my head is screaming not to tell you because I'm so fucking afraid of losing you, but I know…" you pause, trying to catch your breath. "I love you, Noah, but not just in a hey, I want to be your friend kind of way. It's been eating at me for a while now. I made the mistake of telling Jolly; that's why he said what he did."

Noah's mouth drops with surprise, and slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I know," he says softly. He presses his lips together, not sure what else to say. He wasn't completely oblivious. "That's it?" You nervously bite the inside of your cheek.

"Y/n, why do you think I treat you like I do? I knew there was something more, but I didn't want to push this on you. I'm gone a lot, and I can't always give you what you want and what you need." He reaches out, holding both of your hands with his.

"If you want to give me a shot, I'm ready, but don't want to disappoint you." He flashes his infamous smile at you. "I want to try. At least then when people ask if you're my girlfriend, I won't have to correct them." He nervously laughs, "Are you ready?"

You smirk and sit up on your knees, bringing your hands to his face and pressing your lips against his. You lean back, gazing into his eyes, a permanent smile plastered on your face. "Yes, I'm fucking ready!"

You hear Jolly's voice yell from the hallway. "The wedding's back on!"

You chuckle, and Noah pulls you into his lap, kissing your temple. "He really wasn't the best one to tell."

You shrug your shoulders, "It wasn't that bad…he did kinda make this happen…"

Noah looks at the door hearing someone lean against it; chuckling while throwing his legs over the side of the bed and making his way to the door. He quickly opens the door to reveal Jolly practically falling on his face.

"Dude…" Noah laughs. "What the fuck."

Jolly apologizes, "Sorry, sorry. I'm nosy, you know plus had to make sure little miss wasn't getting her heartbroken." He pauses and smiles at you.

"Well," you say with a grin, "I guess we can't blame him for being curious about our love life. After all, it's not every day that he gets to witness such a steamy romance." You wink at Noah.

Noah rolls his eyes playfully and pulls you closer. "Yeah, Jolly," he says with a smirk, "you're just jealous that you're not getting any action."

Jolly laughs and shakes his head. "You two are something else."

Tags:

@thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady