ARCHIVE | veles

“Oh, darling…” she purrs into your ear as she leans forward, her knee pressing against your crotch. “You look so beautiful in red.” A half gasp, half hiccup leaves your lips as she presses her knee against your crotch, hard. Your heart leaps to your throat, and you grip onto her shoulders, lips slightly trembling as her tongue goes to your neck, licking stripes from your collarbone to your chin. You almost forget the corpse that’s a few feet away from you. 

“Can I have a little taste?” Her voice vibrates against your skin, fangs already gently scraping at your neck. You whimper, hands digging into her shoulders. “Please…”

“I don’t know him. I didn’t know him,” your voice is feeble. “Himiko…I would never dare to.” You’re being as honest as you can be. But it won’t be enough to convince her.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she coos and plays with a strand of your hair. “I know that. It’s not your fault. But he needed to be punished for touching you,” she tucks the hair strand behind your air. 

“He…he,” you hiccup, feeling your stomach drop. “He didn’t have to die-,” your voice dies as Toga narrows her eyes. Before you can react, she sits back in her chair and drags you with her, landing atop her lap. You’re stuck facing her, your chest brushing against hers. 

“I gave him a quick and painless death,” she whispers in your ear, one hand holding the back of your neck while the other squeezes your bare thigh. “I can’t be more merciful than that.” Her hands move to cup your ass and you bite down a gasp. You stiffen and she keeps her hands on your behind, firm and unmoving. 

“I think you owe me something for being so merciful,” she purrs and her lips graze your collarbone to your lips. “Wouldn’t you agree?” All you can do is nod.

She laughs and her warm breath fans your neck. It has a metallic scent to it, which reminds you of the blood caking your clothes and your hands. 

“Thank you,” Toga drags out the two words before licking a strip on your neck. You gulp, eyes closing. A sharp sting of pain and you gasp as her fangs sink into your neck and her warm lips kiss your skin.

“Mmmm,” it sends vibrations through your core and you’re embarrassed to realize you don’t entirely hate this. Toga pulls away soon enough, licking her lips clean. She grins, and you flinch as you stare at her blood-stained fangs. 

“You’re so kind to me, so perfect,” she purrs, one hand caressing your chin. Toga pulls you in for a kiss and you can’t find it in yourself to stop her as her lips claim yours. Her hands are traveling everywhere and your heart is racing. When she pulls away, you’re sure your lips are puffy red. But your kidnapper merely smiles and tilts her head slightly, before leaning forward. Her lips are brushing against your neck and you gulp.

“The next time I see anyone talking to you, I won’t be so merciful…” one of her hands squeezes your thigh. “Do you understand?” Nearly whimpering, you nod when she pulls back. The small tears that leave your eyes are inevitable, and you try to duck your head but Toga is anything but dense. 

“Why are you crying, darling?” Her voice sounds sympathetic and you’re close to believing it’s true. But you remember why you’re here; why you’ve been here, why she won’t let you go. 

“There’s no need to cry. I’m sorry I’ve upset you…” she sighs. “But I’m not sorry for killing that man. He knew what was coming his way.” He asked you if you worked at the store you were groceries at. You can’t hold back another wave of tears as you hiccup and sob.

“Toga, please,” you try to hold eye contact through the tears. “I’m sorry. Please…let me go. I want to go home.” Her grip on you tightens and her pupils turn into slits. She giggles, before engulfing you in a hug. Toga’s fangs graze against the spot she bit you, and you flinch. The wound is still sensitive, and you know it’s a silent reminder. You are completely and utterly hers. The wound on your neck only confirms it.  

“You are home, love.”

A phone number you don’t recognize. It’s calling from Tokyo. You frown as you pick up, wondering who could be calling you at this unearthly hour. Then again, you’re awake at this unearthly hour. Maybe it’s a scam call. 

“Hello?” 

“It’s so good to hear your voice…” his voice is slurred, and you clench your jaw.

“Bakugou. What do you want?” 

“I miss you. I need you. I’m an idiot and I regret everything I said and did. Please…” his voice turns whiny and you hear chattering in the background before a different but also familiar voice speaks into the phone.

“Oh my god Y/N, I’m so sorry. Denki and I found him at this bar and he’s completely drunk. Our agencies need us soon… Do you think you could pick him up? He’s at bar XXX.” Kirishima sounds desperate and you sigh. You’re pulling on a sweater and grabbing your keys before you know it.

“I’m on my way.” 

“Thank you so much, I-” you hang up before he can finish his sentence. It’s not personal (it is) but the last thing you want to do is see or hear from Bakugou or his friends. Though you’re resentful, the feelings are still there. So you sigh as you rev your car’s engine and head on your way. 

You hope you won’t regret your decision. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

“Hey, Y/N.” The redhead is looking at his watch anxiously. You bite the inside of your cheek as you nod in acknowledgment, and Denki drags forward a groaning Bakugou. Your ex looks like absolute shit and a small part of you feels relieved knowing you’re not the only one. But you’re quick to shake the thought off as Denki hands you over Bakugou and you’re barely able to stand while holding onto him.

“I’m so sorry about this. Thank you so much for the favor…and I’m really sorry. I know the last thing you want is to see us but we didn’t know who to call. We have to leave now,” Kirishima’s words are frantic and rushed, and you nod.

“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out,” you uphoist Bakugou, who was beginning to fall over. He’s mumbling something under his breath that you can’t decipher.

“Thanks, we owe you. See you in a bit!” Denki says and the two Pro Heroes quickly exit the bar, leaving you with your drunken ex. You sigh, before heaving Bakugou with you towards the exit. 

“Y/N? Is that you?” He speaks halfway to your car, and you roll your eyes.

“No, dipshit. It’s God. Now sober up and get inside the car.” He groans as you stuff him inside your passenger car seat before walking around to the driver’s seat. His head is hung low and you clench your jaw. He’s definitely not sober enough to buckle his seatbelt. So you sigh and lean over, doing it for him. He rests his head on your shoulder and your breath hitches. His nose is brushing against your neck and you freeze.

“It’s been a while,” he mumbles. “Why are you here?” 

You reel back and grip your steering wheel. “Because you thought it would be a great idea to get piss drunk on a Tuesday morning.” 

“Mm.” Is all he says. You ignore his mumbling.

“What’s your address?” You try to keep your eyes on the road and not look in his direction. 

“Same one as before…” his voice is low and you clench your jaw. 

“I don’t remember,” you say. “Tell me your address.” 

Bakugou groans in response before slumping in his seat. He’s not sober enough to remember his address, unsurprisingly. You can already feel a headache forming. 

“My house, then.” You mutter under your breath before beginning your drive home. Silently, you hope he won’t vomit in your car. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You’re breaking into a sweat lugging Bakugou’s weight towards your front door. Why does he have to be so heavy? At least he didn’t vomit in your car. Somehow, you manage to open your front door with one hand while the other holds onto your ex.

“Alright, stand up. You’re heavy,” you grimace. He seems to regain a bit of consciousness with the lights and mumbles under his breath as he raises his head.

“We’re at your place…” he says, though it sounds like he’s speaking to himself. 

“Yeah. You’re too shitfaced to remember your address so I guess I’ll have to suffer the night with you.” You’re half-joking, but Bakugou doesn’t seem to hear. Instead, he rests his head against your shoulder and you gulp. Your heart skips a beat.

“Alright, stay here. I’m going to get you a glass of water.” He leans against the wall and by the time you’re back with a glass of water, he’s slid to the floor. You sigh and put down the cup. One of his arms goes around your shoulders as you hoist him up. 

“God, you’re heavy. Help me out here, I can’t carry you to the couch.” You begin to move forward when he speaks. 

“I love you,” his words are breathless and he slumps against your frame. He smells like beer and a cozy cabin all at once, and you had almost forgotten how nice it was to embrace him. “I’ve never stopped loving you. I’ve always loved you.” 

It takes everything in you to not kiss him. To not say it back. So you bring him to the couch, where he immediately collapses and you drape a blanket over his frame. You kneel to his height, and he watches you through drowsy eyes.

“Tell me that when you’re sober.” 

He says nothing in return and you sigh. You knew he wouldn’t say it. Yet disappointment still pools in the bottom of your stomach. You leave a cup of water and some pills on the coffee table before looking at him one last time. 

“Good night, Katsuki.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

the break-up

“You promised me. You promised.” The party hat is crushed in your fist and Katsuki sighs. Your anger only grows. He’s the one that shows up late to your birthday party and he has the nerve to sigh like you’re a bother? You’re tired.

“Y/N, I had a time-sensitive mission. I couldn’t just say no to the agency. I’m sorry, it was supposed to end early.” Kirishima and Denki watch you from the corner with concern, but you nod at them and they scurry away. 

“I don’t want to hear it. Your best friends made it to the party and you didn’t. Do you hear me? Your best friends! Your co-workers. They made me a priority and they didn’t. I can’t believe you…” 

He scoffs and your eyes feel watery. “Give me a break. I’m exhausted from being thrown around by scumbags and jailing them to make this shithole a better place. If I’m out there doing missions, it’s for both of us. Alright? I’m sorry something more important came up, but I had to do it.” He walks away and heads into the kitchen, and pours himself a cup of whiskey. You scoff, crossing your arms as you watch him. 

“Something more important, huh?” You laugh and he raises a brow. “Thanks for the clarification. I’m a fool for not figuring it out.” He slams the cup on the counter and you’re surprised it doesn’t crack. 

“Wait, what? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ll always be second to you, won’t I? Work comes first. Fuck our dates, our events, my birthday party. Fuck all of it! They don’t matter when you’ve got to play guard dog for your hero agency.” You regret the words as soon as they leave your lips, but you don’t back down. Katsuki’s nose flares and his eyes narrow.

“I am not playing guard dog for the agency. Stop being childish,” he snarls and takes a step forward. “You’re so demanding, it drives me insane! I can’t ever make you happy. It’s either this or that, you’re constantly nagging me. You’re a burden to me and it’s about time I say it.”

You falter in your steps. Katsuki’s eyes widen as his chest heaves, and your heart twists. You choke out a laugh, wiping away tears.

“Are you serious? Do you hear yourself right now?” He holds eye contact but says nothing in return. Your stomach drops. Swallowing a sob, you nod before looking around. Looking at the framed pictures of you two. 

“Okay. I see how it is. I’ll move everything out by tomorrow. Goodbye, Katsuki.” You grab your keys before storming out of the apartment.

He doesn’t stop you. He doesn’t say a word the next day either, and his silence hurts more than everything he said. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You’re up before Bakugou is. So you decide to cook breakfast for the two of you, some simple steamed rice and boiled vegetables. By the time he wakes up, you’re already setting plates for two at the table. You avoid his gaze though you can feel his stare on you. 

“Good morning. Did you take the pills I left on the table?”

“Yeah,” his voice is groggy and you get goosebumps. It’s been months since you’ve heard his morning voice. “Thanks.” 

You glance at the clock and it reads nine o’clock. Not too late, and it’s conveniently your day off. “Eat up. You probably feel like shit right now.” He sits across from you at the table and you begin to eat in silence. Hopefully, he’ll bid you goodbye after breakfast and you can go back to your normal and mundane life without him. The way it was and the way it should be.

“Thanks,” he says between mouthfuls of rice. “You didn’t have to go out of your way and make me breakfast. Picking me up was more than enough.” 

You shake your head and pick at your food. “Don’t feel too flattered. I was making my breakfast and had enough for you,” you lie. “I’m your ex, not a monster. Kirishima called me and told me you were drunk and didn’t have anyone else to pick you up.” You wonder if that means he hasn’t seen anyone besides you since you broke up. 

He’s quiet for a few moments before slowly nodding. He pats his mouth with a napkin before setting his fork down, looking straight at you. 

“Listen…I’m sorry. Genuinely. For everything.” You scoff, shaking your head.

“Relax, it wasn’t that big of a deal. It’s not like I was asleep or anything.” You eat a mouthful of rice when Bakugou sighs.

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about us…and how badly I screwed up. I made a lot of mistakes and I’m reminded of it every day.” You pause, raising a brow. Wondering what he says to say while trying to squish the flicker of hope in your heart.

“What do you mean?” 

“You were right. What you said that day when we broke up.” Your heart skips a beat and you swallow a lump down your throat.

“Yeah, I guess so.” An awkward silence falls upon you two and you feel Bakugou staring at you. But you keep your gaze on your plate, hoping he’ll say something. Do something. But then he clears his throat and the chair screeches as he gets up.

“I should go now. Thank you…for everything. And I’m sorry for the bother.” He grabs his coat from the sofa and walks towards the door. Your stomach lurches and you rise from the dining table.

“Wait!” Your ex stops and looks at you questioningly. “Do you…Do you remember anything from last night?”

Bakugou stares at you. He chuckles and rubs the back of his head. You get goosebumps. It’s been months since you’ve heard his laugh. Or his voice, for a matter of fact. 

“Not much. I was drunk and…I probably did things or said things I shouldn’t have. If I said anything last night…don’t take it seriously. I was drunk and obviously wasn’t thinking.” Ouch. Your heart squeezes. “Why? What happened?”

You smile and ignore the dull ache in your chest. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” You wave him goodbye and he nods hesitantly before closing the door behind him. Your chest aches and it’s all quite an irony; last night he was the one begging for your love, but somehow you’re the one left begging for his love. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

a few days before

Shouto is at your side when you wake up but the bed feels cold. You’ve forgotten when your bed felt warm and felt like home. He’s on his side of the bed, so close yet so far. You wonder what time he got home. One, two, three in the morning? Who knows. You’ve learned to no longer wait for him to get home.

You rise from the bed and he doesn’t budge, continuing to sleep. So you tie your robe around your waist and head to the kitchen. 

You pass by the living room on your way to the kitchen and a picture frame on a dresser catches your eye. It’s from your U.A. days. You look so young and bursting with life. So does Shouto, his eyes sparkling as he holds you tightly in the picture. It’s a bit hard to believe that was once you. That you two were once so happy.

You’d like to think that if you could go back to the past, you’d be able to retrace where and when the cracks emerged in your relationship. You think you’d be able to fix your relationship. But there’s no time machine at your disposal and your relationship is crumbling to pieces. You’re not sure what would hurt more- leaving or staying at Shouto’s side. 

So you place down the picture frame and step inside the kitchen. There’s nothing in the fridge. A bag of bread and some coffee is all you can spot so you take it. 

You sit down at the diner table and breathe. Another picture stares at you on the wall to your right, and you stare at it. You don’t know how long you stare at it, but eventually you snap out of it and eat your breakfast. The bread has gone stale and the coffee is cold. You stare at the diner table that probably cost a fortune. The lavish and expensive furniture that surrounds you. Your coffee tastes insipid and bitter. You add a sugar packet, but it tastes the same. So you add another one. And another. Until you look down at your plate and see all the bunched up sugar packets. You pour the coffee cup in the sink. 

Absent-mindedly, you begin to wash the dishes. Shouto wakes up an hour later. His hair is everywhere and the eyebags under his eyes are heavy. He nods at you, and you merely blink. No smile or words are exchanged. No complaining about his morning breath because he doesn’t even bother to kiss you. He sits down in the master chair of the table with a mug of coffee he poured. You don’t tell him the milk probably expired. Or that the coffee is disgustingly bitter he’ll probably spit it out. 

When you dry the last plate, you turn towards your husband. He’s scrolling on his phone, eyes lidded and drawing circles on his mug. You grip the kitchen towel as you dry your hands, lowering your gaze to the wooden floor. He got it waxed a few days ago.

“Shouto,” you call out. He doesn’t look up. You don’t call his name again, and not a single word is said as you walk out of the kitchen. 

You’ve made up your mind. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

“Mr. Shouto! Mr. Shouto!” The reporters are especially rabid tonight, and it doesn’t help that you made an appearance with your husband. 

“Mr. Shouto! Can you give us a statement for tonight! Can we get a picture with your wife!?” But Shouto walks past them almost coldly, his hand resting on your hip, while the other holds your cardigan. If you had looked at you two through the eyes of another, you would think that Shouto and you are a lovely couple. But you feel the fatigue of your body, the puffiness of your eyes that you tried to cover up with make-up. You feel the intense gaze of your husband, silently questioning your puffy eyes. You pretend you don’t notice, and eventually he looks away. When you ask him a question and receive nothing in response, you know he’s already drifted away. He’ll only talk to some of his friends at the event before taking you back to your cold and empty home. 

But tonight won’t be like the other nights. Tonight, you won’t slip out of your expensive clothes, wipe your makeup off and sleep alone on a bed meant for two. No- tonight, you will lead your husband to the dinner table, make some tea, and wait for him to open the divorce papers. Tonight you will not cry yourself to sleep, or wish your husband would slip into your bed, wish he would wrap his arms around you and whisper sweet nothings. Tonight you will slip off the golden ring off your finger.

So you smile and grab a cup of wine, walking around the ballroom. You watch Shouto talk to Izuku and Iida, some of his closest friends. You’re going to miss them. Your mind drifts away from the divorce papers and you observe the room’s furniture and decoration. But before you know it, Shouto is at your side, one hand slipping into yours.

‘’I’m rather tired,’’ he whispers into your ear. ‘’Shall we take our leave?’’ You nod absentmindedly, smiling. It won’t hurt to keep up appearances until you’re back home.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Shouto opens the door for you, and you utter a quiet thanks. He’s quiet to undo his cuffs, his tie, and take off his blazer. You slip out of your heels and unzip the overbearing and insanely expensive fur cloak. Next the pearl collar comes off, along with the earrings. Your husband walks towards the kitchen, and your stomach churns. But you try to ignore it and focus on the golden ring that glints on your index finger. Slowly, you take it off too. You place it on the coffee table and walk towards the kitchen, serving yourself a cup of water. When you take a sip, you try to pretend like your hands aren’t trembling. Shouto picks up the envelope you left on the table, and you watch as his posture grows rigid. He’s read it. 

“What is this?” His voice is sharp and you nurse the cup of water in your hands. Uraraka will be arriving soon and your bags are packed. So when he turns in your direction, you smile. You can’t decipher the expression on your husband’s face but you know it’s anything but happy.

“It’s right on the envelope, dear. They’re divorce papers.” The words don’t hurt as much as you thought they would. Except they do, but you’re good at pretending.

Shouto is silent for a few minutes. He’s staring at the beige papers, and you notice that his grip on them gradually tightens. So does his jaw, and he turns to look at you.

“Why?” His voice is low and you’re barely able to understand his question. 

You laugh softly at his confusion, though you know he’s not really confused. He’s just doing it for your sake.

“Please don’t act hurt for me, Shouto.” You walk towards him and cup one of his cheeks. “We both know we fell out of love a long time ago.” His hand wraps around your wrist and he nuzzles your hand. Tears wetten your hand. Before you know it, there’s tears rolling down your cheeks too. But you don’t feel sad. You don’t feel the weight of your world crashing down. You already grieved that a long time ago. These are overdue tears, tears that should’ve been shed a long time ago. This should’ve ended a long time ago.

 “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. His forehead rests against yours and you close your eyes. You smile.

“I know.” 

“I tried my best.”

“I know.” 

You open your eyes and Shouto is already looking at you. His eyes are watery and his cheeks are flowing with tears. You smile, your thumb brushing away his tears. You’ve rarely seen him cry. 

“I love you.” His voice is starting to sound hoarse. His hand tightens around your wrist, and your heart feels heavy.

“We fell out of love a long time ago, Shouto. But neither of us were brave enough to admit it.” He falls quiet. 

“I…” he starts but never finishes his sentence. So you finish it for him. 

“I love you.” The words feel bittersweet on your tongue. His hand squeezes your wrist and a tear falls on your arm. 

Uraraka’s car honks outside and your heart skips a beat. Shouto meets your eyes and you swallow down a sob. “It’s okay,” you press your lips on his forehead and he slowly releases your wrist. You grab your suitcases and walk away, but stop in your tracks. You can feel Shouto’s eyes pinned on you.

“Did you fall in love with someone else?” Your words are slow and premeditated. Though in the end, they won’t make much of a difference. 

“Never. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

Your chest feels lighter and your eyes watery. Your grip on your suitcases tightens and your throat closes up. But you don’t look back a single time.

a/n: i’ve had this fic idea in my drafts for some time but never got to it. haven’t wrriten in quite some time since i’ve been very busy but i hope it’s not too rusty! will try to pick up my blog again during the summer. pls rb + comment if you enjoyed <3 mwah! 

“Sorry to interrupt guys!” There’s a sheepish look on her face. “But I forgot to mention that I’ve recruited the team’s new manager. Here she is,” she pushes you forward. 

“Good morning Date Tech,’’ you smile warmly. ‘’I am Y/N L/N, your newest manager. I’m eager to work with you all.’’ Everyone smiles and nods eagerly, except for Aone. He stares at you but you’re quick to talk with Futakuchi. Eventually, you notice his stare. Aone curses at himself for staring at you for too long- what if he creeps you out? But instead, you merely smile, excuse yourself and walk towards him.

‘’Hey there. I don’t think I caught your name earlier. I’m Y/N and I’ll be the second manager for the team from now on.’’ You stretch your hand towards him and it takes him a few minutes to realize that you want to shake his hand. 

Slowly, he grabs your hand and shakes it firmly, but he’s careful to not grip it too tight. You don’t even flinch, which surprises him. Are you not afraid of him? Creeped out? Nervous? This is strange. You’re not sweating or darting your eyes around nervously. No- you’re holding his gaze. Hell, you’re making him nervous. Isn’t it usually the other way around?

One of the first things he notices is that you’re really pretty. He can’t explain it; your smile is charming and your eyes brighten when you smile. Just looking at you makes his stomach feel fuzzy and warm. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you!” You drop the handshake and Aone slowly processes the words, nodding. When Futakuchi calls you over, you apologize before running over to him. Unbeknownst to the both of you, this one small interaction would blossom into something far bigger. Neither of you were aware just yet. 

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“You’re really cute,” the volleyball player with a bad hair dye says, a lopsided smile on his lips. You shakily try to smile in response but it’s hard when you’re being cornered into a wall by a tall guy you don’t know.

“Thank you. I have to get back to my team-,” you try to slip below his outstretched arm but he’s quick to block your exit, curiosity glinting in his eyes. Your stomach twists and you’re starting to feel nervous.

“Leaving so soon? We’ve only just met,” he frowns and the part of you that was taught to be extremely polite and respectful feels guilty. But the uncomfortable part of you doesn’t; you don’t like this guy, he’s overstepping your boundaries and you need to get away from him as soon as you can.

“Sorry,” is all you can muster, lowering your gaze to the floor. Maybe you could make a run for it? No- he’s a volleyball player. He probably has the stamina and speed to catch up with you. You feel his finger under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him. 

“Aww, are you shy? It’s okay,” his tone almost sounds mocking and you clench your fists at your sides. As you clear your throat and try to regain your composure, a large shadow covers both of you and the blonde turns around, eyes wide. 

“Oh, hey dude! She’s with you?” He laughs nervously and steps to the side, running a hand through his hair. “My bad, I didn’t know. Sorry!” Relief courses through your body as you meet Aone’s gaze, and the stranger is quick to walk away. You’re overwhelmed with gratitude as you rush to Aone and hug him tightly, your face smushed into his chest.

“Thank you,” your voice is muffled by his body, and you’re surprised to feel him hug you back. When you raise your head, he’s already looking at you. His eyes widen and his face goes pink as he’s caught in the act, and something about his bashfulness makes you smile as you stand on your tiptoes and impulsively press a kiss on his cheek. 

“You’re too sweet, Takanobu. Thank you.” You step back, bracing for rejection. He only stares at you with wide eyes as his face grows increasingly red. Your stomach churns, regretting your decision.

“I’m sorry-,” you thought it would’ve been okay; you’ve had a huge crush on him for months, known him longer, and had hoped he felt the same way. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” he grabs ahold of both your hands and your mouth falls shut. 

“Thank you,” his face is still red and you smile. “Can…can I kiss you too?” You respond by pulling him closer to you.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Aone thought he was done worrying over first impressions. You went from being his volleyball manager to his best friend to his girlfriend; gone are the times he would worry that you were scared or nervous around him, or that you didn’t like him. What else is there to worry about? He does not need to impress anyone but you. But then he remembers why he’s adjusting the tie on his neck and he gulps. Right. Today, he’s going to meet your parents…

“‘Nobu?” Your back is turned to him and he slightly raises his head from his bed.

“Mm?” You move to the side and your skirt moves with you, and his face goes warm as he catches a glimpse of your upper thighs. Before he accidentally sees something else, he drops his head back on the mattress. 

“How does this outfit look on me?” You turn and place both your hands on your hips. His heart swells and a small smile takes over his lips.

“You look beautiful; as always,’’ he murmurs, and you’re quick to smile before reaching for his arms, beckoning him to sit up on the bed.

“Thank you,” you sit on his lap and your hands go to the back of his neck as you tilt your head to the side. “I’m ready to go. Are you?” He gulps and tries to calm his racing heart. It’s just going to be a simple dinner with your parents- that’s all…

Too nervous to verbally communicate, he nods and you smile. You kiss his cheek and Aone feels his courage somewhat return.

Oh, God. He feels queasy. His stomach begins to twist and anxiety builds in his chest. Is he overdoing his outfit? Should he go more casual-? No- what if he’s too casual? He’ll stick to his formal attire. You didn’t comment on his clothing choices today, which he hopes is a good sign. 

But…what if your parents don’t like him? It would break his heart. The last thing Aone wants is your parent’s disapproval. The chocolates he bought are held tightly in his sweaty palms before he places them to the side as both of you get into the car. 

The car drive to your house feels impossibly long yet too quick. Before he knows it, he’s pulling up to your driveway and stepping out of the car. You loop your arm in his, and your warmth helps him relax. But Aone is still tense as he knocks on the door. 

“Don’t worry,” you whisper in his ear. “My parents already love you, and they haven’t met you yet. Trust me,” you slip your hand into his and smile. Aone musters a smile in response, desperately hoping you’ll be right.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. L/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I brought these. I hope you’ll enjoy them,” his hands are slightly shaking as he hands over the box of chocolates to your mother, who accepts them with a warm smile.

“How sweet of you. Thank you, Aone. It’s a pleasure to meet you too!” He feels his chest slightly lighter than before and smiles. But then he meets your father’s gaze and gulps. The man’s eyes are already zeroed on him, peering at him through the frame of his glasses

“Hello, young man,” your father outstretched his hand, and Aone grips it hesitantly. But he makes sure his handshake is firm, maintaining eye contact with the man though he feels like fainting. “It’s the first time my daughter brings someone home. It’s lovely to meet you. What’s your name?” 

“Hello, sir,” Aone’s throat goes dry. “My name is Aone Takanobu. A pleasure to meet you too.” 

The elder man smiles and Aone smiles too. 

“Dinner’s ready,” your mother dries her hands off with a towel. “Please come join us in the dining room.” 

Aone glances at you, and you meet his gaze. Your father nods at him before following after your mother. You step towards him and smile widely, reaching for his hand. Your fingers intertwine with his and you squeeze his hand gently. Aone squeezes your hand too and he can breathe again. Maybe this won’t be too bad after all.

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, your thumb stroking his hand. “You’ll be fine. And even if they don’t approve, I don’t care,” you pull him into a hug. He holds you tight against his chest, face buried into your hair. It smells like a soft flower fragrance- his favorite one. It’s the one he bought you for your birthday a few months ago. He hugs you even tighter. “I don’t care,” you echo. “I don’t care what they think as long as I have you.” 

a/n: this is v bad but i’m v tired and i no longer have motivation so here’s this...thing. anyway if u managed 2 like it do reblog + comment ty <3

so i know i’ve said this a billion times before but i honestly wasn’t expecting much when i first started writing fanfic. i wrote mostly out of self-satisfaction since sometimes i wouldn’t find fanfics that i genuinely enjoyed. i had been in a writer’s block stump for about a year before i started writing fanfic, as i used to write original fiction before. but i’ve been trying my hand out at fanfic for almost two years now! and it’s been a really good experience, though it hasn’t always been positive. 

since i surpassed 600 followers a few days ago, i’ve decided to do a small thing. the banner is mostly self-explanatory but i just wanted to add some things: 

1. depending on how much reception the form gets, i’ll see if i change the limit. but for now, the form will be open to 10 people FOR a drabble. afterwards, it will remain open but you will not receive a drabble in return. 

2. if your drabble request information is incomplete/inconsistent, i will try to contact you so we can fix it. 

3. you must be following me before filling out the survey. make sure you abide by my dni rules! 

4. there will no be time limit/period for the form but rather a capacity limit, as mentioned previously. first come, first serve! 

5. i will be constantly updating this post with the current capacity limit the form is at.

6. you may only fill out the form ONCE!! 

7. as usual, once you receive your drabble request do NOT repost or turn it into an audiofic. please respect my ownership over my written work. 

8. make sure you read my request rules before submitting your response to the survey; keep in mind some rules may change due to the event’s additional set of rules. 

9. drabbles will range from 100 to 600 words. once posted, they will be tagged with #veles’ 600 

10. if you have any questions, feel free to let me know! 

LINK: https://forms.gle/z7KhVGdx5u8j3SaL7 SURVEY CAPACITY: MAY 23RD, 2022.... [4/4]