#admin gigglepud

[your-fixof-fics]

the slow reveal of what another needs -- by Gigglepud  Yosuke x Yu, Persona 4 

Summary: Yu’s been acting just a little weird, recently. Just a little; no big deal. Sure, he’s all but stopped inviting Yosuke over to his house, but Yosuke’s sure there’s a good reason for it. He’s not freaking out at all. 

(A 1.8k words fic of Yosuke and Yu being dumb dorks)

AO3: Link

The thing is – it takes Yosuke weeks to notice.

He and Yu have been going steady for three months now, after at least double that amount of time wasted on the delicate dance steps of equal parts pining and flirting.

As far as Yosuke is concerned, everything is great! He sees Yu almost every day, and every time they meet, it still sends a spark straight to his heart. Just thinking about Yu gets a dopey grin on his face. His life is perfect in every way that matters, and he loves it.

Or at least, it should be.

It takes a failed robbery at Junes for Yosuke to figure it out. He’s lurking by the scene as his father recounts the situation to the police when Dojima spots him. Dojima breaks into a grin, slapping his notebook shut as he waves for Yosuke to come over.

“Is something the matter?” Yosuke glances at the arrested robber.

Dojima waves a hand, “No, everything’s all good. Just haven’t seen my favourite nephew’s boyfriend in a while, you know? How have you been?”

“I’ve been great!” Yosuke ducks his head, scratching the back of his head. “We’ve just been busy, I guess.”

It’s only after Dojima has left, the store left quiet and empty, but for the mess of tapes and dislodged displays left for Yosuke to clean up, that a chill suddenly spikes Yosuke’s spine.

He tries to remember the last time he’d been by Yu’s place. And though he remembers fond afternoons with Yu and Nanako from the early days of their relationship, somewhere along the way, those visits had petered out.

 The next time he sees Yu, he tries to bring it up.

“Hey, why don’t we ever go to your place, anymore?”

Yu shoots a surprised glance at Yosuke.

“What? Oh, it’s just a mess, I guess,” he laughs.

“You know I don’t care about that. I don’t see how it’s possible to be messier than my place,” Yosuke retorts.

“Well I still think there are better places to hang out,” Yu insists.

“Oh.”

Yosuke lets Yu change the subject, but the nagging thought stays, like a stain on a white shirt that won’t completely fade.

Yosuke tries not to overthink it. It’s not completely implausible that Yu might be embarrassed about his room’s mess, though Yosuke remembers the meticulous neatness the last time he’d been there.

But there could also be other reasons, right? Reasons that has nothing to do with Yosuke specifically.

Nevertheless, Yosuke attempts range from subtle hints to explicit requests to visit Yu’s house. Not even to his room, just the living room, to see Nanako or something. But Yu manages to shut it down every time.

Sometimes, Yu’s segues are so subtle Yosuke doesn’t even realise what Yu’s done until ten minutes later and they’re somehow talking about the similarities between King Moron and donkeys.

Even when Yosuke walks Yu home, he’ll never make it past the threshold of the front door. Yu is never forthright in his rejections, but instead, he’s extra subtle that Yosuke doesn’t realise he’s promising to leave until the words are already out of his mouth.

 “Is that normal?” Yosuke demands, a week later when he’s at Yukiko’s place.

Chie lifts her head from Yukiko’s lap, gestures at herself then the room at large. Her voice is dripping with sarcasm as she retorts, “What do you think?”

Yosuke raises an eyebrow at the two of them. Yukiko seated on her bed as Yosuke has seized the couch. Chie lies lengthwise on the bed, using Yukiko’s thighs as pillow while Yukiko’s finger tangle softly around Chie’s hair.

“That’s different,” Yosuke pouts. “You two are generally disgusting anyhow.”

Chie snorts, “Who’s speaking? You’re just as gross when you’re with Yu. Seriously? Would it destroy you to let go of each other for just a single second?”

Yosuke cackles. The four of them have had their fair share of passive aggressive competitions comparing their relationships. But the humour dissipates just as quickly when he thinks back to the problem at hand, replaced by the harsh pressing of his chest.

“Okay, but then why won’t he let me in his house anymore? I mean, it’s not like I want to intrude, but what does he have to hide? Is he keeping some huge secret from me?”  

“If he is, then I think you should respect that,” Yukiko is soft but firm in both tone and gaze.

“And talk to him,” Chie adds. “Seriously, have you even properly asked him about this?”

“You guys are about to watch the break down of a relationship,” Yosuke wails, but he doesn’t contest their advice.

 Chie finally decides to do her job as a best friend a few days later, when the four of them linger after class.

“Hey, Yu,” She wraps an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close. “Can we go visit Nanako? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Yu looks thoughtful for a moment, and Yosuke is ready to cut in with an alternative suggestion, before Yu nods.

“That would be good,” Yu smiles. “She’d like that.”

Yosuke tries not to gape too obviously. When he glances confusedly towards Chie, she raises an eyebrow in turn.

“Alright then,” Yukiko claps her hands together, drawing the three’s attention to her. “Let’s go.”

He staunchly averts Chie’s eyes the rest of the way to Yu’s house, and though he tries his best to keep the conversation going, he can’t help the pout that surfaces whenever Yu isn’t looking.

It’s easier to forget his turmoil once he arrives, when Nanako all but bounces to the door. He grins as he squats down to meet her at eye-level, enveloping her into a hug.

“Long time no see!” Nanako squeals. “Are you all here to play?”

“Yeah! We’re here for whatever you want to do!” Yosuke responds with a grin. He glances up to Yu, but instead of the matching grin he expects, he catches a glimpse of a frown before it’s quickly forced away.

“You alright?” He murmurs when he gets up.

“Yeah,” Yu says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Come on, lets go into the living room.”

 A while later, Yukiko suggests something about fabrics for a new dress, and before Yosuke even realises Chie is ushering Nanako towards the door.

When Yu attempts to follow, Chie puts her hand out, letting it hover right in front of his face.

“Girls only, sorry!” She announces, though she did not sound sorry at all.

Any confusion on Yosuke’s part clears up when Yukiko has led Nanako out the door, and Chie turns back with a sudden glare.

“Meanwhile, you two, talk.”

Yet, when the door slams shut a second later, it only leaves the room drowning in silence. Yosuke darts a glance towards Yu, whose brows are creased as he frowns towards the door.

“So…” Yosuke attempts, only to trail off as soon as Yu looks his way.

Yu waits a few beats, the silence-induced awkwardness manifesting like disease. “Well, I bought that new comic we were talking about last week. It’s in my room, do you want to come see?”

Yosuke rubs a hand roughly through his face. It was the perfect opening, but…

“Maybe later. I think, we probably should probably listen to Chie, first.”

Yu nods, his expression sobering up as he shifts to sit more comfortably in his seat. Yosuke’s heart sinks; he’d hoped, just a little, that Yu would be confused – then at least it would have a higher chance this whole thing is just a figment of Yosuke’s paranoid imagination.

But it seems they’re on the same page, and that might as well be an explicit confirmation that there’s a problem.

Yet, Yosuke doesn’t know how to begin, and Yu doesn’t seem inclined to start, either. It shouldn’t be like this, the two of them sitting across each other, separated by the table. It’s almost like they were strangers again.

“Well?” Yu prompts, when the silence drags on for too long.

Yosuke takes a deep breath. “Why are you keeping me away from here? What have you got to hide that you never invite me to your house anymore?”

Yu buries his face into his hand. “It’s stupid,” he mumbles into them.

Yosuke stares, his heart racing. “What do you mean?” he asks slowly, because if Yu is talking about their relationship, he’s not sure how he’s going to handle it.

But Yu only shakes his head with a groan. “It’s- urgh. It’s just stupid!” He looks back up at Yosuke with a self-deprecating smile. “I’m sorry, you’ve been worrying about this for ages, haven’t you? That’s why Chie got involved too. It wasn’t supposed to become a big deal, it’s just, well…” Yu looks away.

“Well what?” Yosuke tries to be patient, but this moment is the culmination of weeks of tension, and he can only control his anticipation for so long.

Yu shrinks into himself, “Look, it’s just, whenever you come over, you always end up spending all your time with Nanako. And, that’s great, it’s fine, I love that you get along with her so well, but it also means we never seem to get any time alone. And sometimes, well, that gets frustrating, you know?”

Yosuke stares.

Yu stares at the floor, “I know, this is so bad.”

It takes a while for Yosuke to process all of this, but when he does, he’s slamming his hands onto the table as he leans forwards, “No! It’s not bad. This is, like, the best news I’ve heard all week.”

Because it’s true, this could have gone in so many horrible directions.

“Really?” Yu raises a bow.

“Hey, don’t act all high and mighty. You’re totally right that this is so stupid,” Yosuke laughs, and it’s a genuine grin on his face as he feels lighter than he has for a long while. “I can’t believe you got jealous.”

“It’s not jealousy!” Yu tries to protest, but Yosuke just laughs some more.

“You’re an idiot,” Yosuke retorts good naturedly. He’s probably an idiot too, but no way he’s going to actually admit that. “I can’t believe you made me worry for nothing.”

 The next Sunday, Yosuke arrives at Yu’s house extra early. As expected, Yu isn’t up yet, though Nanako is peppered with youthful energy.

He’s enthusiastic as ever as he hugs her, then leads her to the kitchen. “Help me cook?”

The make fried rice together, taking their time as Nanako catches Yosuke up with all that’s been going on with her.

But when they’re done, Yosuke nods satisfactorily at the prepared dishes, then turns solemnly to Nanako.

“Hey, are you going to forgive me if I still Yu for the day? I’ve got a full plan to prove myself a worthy boyfriend.”

Nanako grins and claps her hand, “Of course! I hope you guys have a great time!”

Yosuke grins, and they fist bump before he carries two servings upstairs. They’re going to have such a great day, even just staying indoors, that Yu won’t even want him to leave.

End. 

Thanks for reading! Fic inspired by this cute af couple i saw the other day with a bunch of who I assume to be younger siblings at the water park. Title inspired by Damien Rice’s It Takes A Lot to Know A Man, only because it’s the song i’ve been binging all day.  

[your-fixof-fics]

Omg I just came across and read you guys oneshot about Karasuma and Irina, the "Mistletoe" one and I really love it. It is super adorable omg. So I'd love to translate that fic into Vietnamese if you guys are okay with it. I promise to give you full credit.

We’d be honoured if you wish to translate any of our fics! You’re very welcome to do it, and feel free to share with us the link when you’re done! 

[your-fixof-fics]

Can you do a fluff one with Karma x Nagisa where they're sharing a bed? Thanks x

Bed Sharing －Karma/Nagisa

Summary: Once, falling into bed together - in the most platonic sense - had been as easy as the bright smiles they cast each other, or the banter they shared across the room, as best friends without a care in the world. But time changes people, and even if, physically, they are still sleeping side by side, Nagisa can’t deny that the two of them aren’t the same little boys they were anymore. (2980 words)

Cross-posted on FFN: [Link]

Whenever Karma and Nagisa spends the night together, they would always sleep on the same bed. It’s an unspoken agreement of sorts, or a long-held tradition, or perhaps its just something to be taken for granted between best friends.

Nagisa knows how it began, remembers fondly the nights he heard the quiet knocks on the window of his room. Back then, still in middle school, he would be all nerves as he watches the other boy, sitting on the wide ledge on the other side of the glass, showing no concern that they were 20 floors from the ground.

“What are you doing?” he’d hissed, the first time he let the other boy into his room.

Back then, Karma still had to grace to think of some excuse, “Thought of this plan we can try, to kill sensei.”

“Can’t that wait ‘til morning?”

“Okay but I’m worried if I wait until then, it won’t sound like a good idea anymore.”

It turns out, it didn’t sound a like good idea even when Nagisa was sleep-deprived in the middle of the night.

He doesn’t remember when exactly they moved from chatting on the floor to waking in the bed, cuddled together, the next morning, but he does remember the panicked rush of pushing a reluctant Karma quietly out the apartment before his mother finds out.

Nagisa knew he needed to learn to say no the next time there’s a knock at his window. But it’s hard to reject someone when they don’t even give you the time to speak.

Just waltzes around the room and plays games, reads some comics, and lounges on the bed. Nagisa knows his mum is usually still awake, so it’s not like he can let Karma out of his rooms, and there’s no way he will let Karma out the window again, assassin in training or not, so he learns to just tolerate the redhead.

He argued, for a while: “I’m too tired, Karma, you can play whatever you want, but I’ll just grab a futon for you and then I’m going back to bed.”

“Why do I have to get the floor? I’m a guest, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re just a trespasser”, Nagisa had retorted, resisting an urge to smack his face. Instead, he simply flopped down to his own bed, and slept.

He woke up with Karna’s arms wrapped around his waist and one of the redhead’s legs over his own. He had sighed, before pushing the redhead off the bed to wake him up.

Eventually, Nagisa grows to expect it, that Karma would just turn up outside his rooms suddenly and stay the night. (“How do you even get up here, anyway?” “Your fire escape is pretty close to the ledge.” “It’s actually not. Most people probably can’t make the jump.” “Lucky I’m not most people, then.”)

And somewhere in his last few months of middle school, he catches on Karma isn’t only doing this for fun. It’s the way there is tension in his movements, the force in his smiles, that Nagisa had noticed before but never quite put it all together until one night he notices Karma’s cheeks were slightly more pink on one side.

They had sat together, that night, in a silence that was not quite comfortable, but the alternative seemed worse and Nagisa wasn’t sure if he dared to break it. Instead, he had one hand on Karma’s, the other tracing the faint mark on his face.

Eventually, when they were both under the covers, lights out in the room, Nagisa mumbled, “I knew you didn’t get along with your parents, but I didn’t realise it was this bad.”

Even in the dark, Karma’s gaze was penetrating. “Don’t,” he said in a low voice. “You did fine not asking for almost a whole year.”

“This can’t go on,” Nagisa insisted.

Karma doesn’t respond for a while, to the point where Nagisa wonders if he’s asleep. But then he turns his back to Nagisa, shifting the covers as he moves. “I know,” he said at last. “That’s why, I think I’ll move to Tokyo for high school.”

Nagisa widened his eyes, and tried not gasp. He had always thought Karma would remain local, continue on at Kunigigaoka, or just a nearby high school if it didn’t work out. Not because he didn’t believe in Karma’s ability to make it into an even more prestigious high schools, but because of his casual laziness in his attitude.

He should he relieved, even happy, that once they graduate, his friend can find reprieve. But his heart had felt heavy at the news, and he couldn’t bring himself to be truly genuine when the time finally came to wishing him farewell and good luck.

The next time one of them sleepovers at the other’s place, it’s a year since they’ve seen each other.

Nagisa goes out to Tokyo to visit Karma, who stays at the local dormitories, the redhead hadn’t wanted Nagisa to return back to the hotel at nightfall. Instead, Karma sneaked Nagisa back to his dormitory, introduced him to all his friends in the common room, then led him back to his dorm.

Karma gets the room to himself, but it’s even smaller than Nagisa’s bedroom. There’s definitely no space to lie properly on floor; the desks and chairs are too much in the way for that, so Nagisa is forced into the same single bed as Karma.

Awkward does not begin to describe the experience. It’s an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar bed that feels too small even for one person, and Nagisa couldn’t even turn without fear of either falling off or crashing into Karma.

He barely sleeps that night.

So the next year, Karma opts to crash at Nagisa’s hotel room instead. The bed is slightly bigger, and though the couch is also available, Karma’s stubborn preference for the bed hadn’t changed.

But Nagisa could feel their own dynamic changing, though. Even as they try to do the same things they’ve been doing in the past, or try introduced each other to new interests, there’s a gap that had grown in two years’ worth of absence from each other, and a few days together is not enough to bridge the gap yet.

And perhaps, that’s why Karma was even more determined to share beds, and do the same rituals they’ve always done in the past.

But they can’t live in the past forever.

As the distance between them grows, Nagisa is desperate to learn the new dance between them. It’s a light, careful tread, where Karma can’t quite meet his eyes. Sometimes, if Nagisa is quick or subtle, he’ll catch Karma’s stare before the other looks away. Their brief touches (no longer the carefree hand holding in their childhood, but there are still gentle squeezes in the shoulder, pats in the back) are firmer, but hesitation often lingers between them before the touch.

Somewhere along the line, the moments spent in bed a welcomed respite as they share a cover. Close enough to hear each other’s breaths, and somehow, in the dark, it almost feels as if not see in each other allows them not to see their own changing feelings.

Until the last holiday before the start of their final high school year.

Karma had turned to face Nagisa, their faces inches apart. “Come to Tokyo,” he offered. “For university, move to the city with me.”

Nagisa frowned. He’d considered before then about his university choices, and Tokyo had always been an option that was plausible, but one he didn’t really allow himself to think about, not daring to think of the implications. But if Karma himself was offering…

“I’ll think about it,” he hummed, noncommitally. “I’ll have to raise my grades a little higher, but I suppose it’s achievable.”

“Please come, I would be sad if you don’t.” Karma’s voice is strained.

Nagisa can’t see Karma’s expression in the dark, and he hopes it goes both ways, because he doesn’t really know how to respond to that.

“I’ll try,” he said at last.

When Nagisa tells Karma he’s moving to Tokyo, Karma was ecstatic. The nervousness leaves Nagisa when it dawns on him just how much of a help Karma is, as someone already in Tokyo, and talks of introducing Nagisa to all his favourite places and helping him settle in.

It still feels weird, Nagisa thought, to explore a side of Karma’s life that he wasn’t a part of. But maybe now, he can be apart of it, too.

And somewhere along the discussion, Karma had decided they should get an apartment together, and Nagisa hadn’t known how to say no to that.

It means there’ll be no more sleepovers, for one thing, because they would literally be living under the same roof all the time, and Nagisa doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or excited at these thoughts.

The day Nagisa moves in, four bags balanced awkwardly on his arms and the huge suitcase he’s carrying, Karma had opened the door with his eyes wide, and shirtless.

There really was nothing that Nagisa could have done to prepare for the sight. He freezes, stiff, as his bags drop to the floor.

“Um…” Karma eyed Nagisa, then swept his gaze down to all his bags on the floor. “Right. I’ll be a second.”

The door slammed shut in Nagisa’s face, and he’s left waiting for a minute outside, before Karma returned with a proper shirt. He opened the door wide, and grabs two of Nagisa’s bags, leading him into the living room.

Nagisa followed mutely behind him, his eyes lingering at Karma’s back, trying to imagine the tanned skin underneath his shirt. Surely, it is fatigue that is making his thoughts so reckless; just a wild, untamed passing thought that demands to feel the chest and abs that Karma had revealed a moment ago.

It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it. After all, they had seen each other shirtless multiple times, back in middle school, and no one had thought anything of it. It’s so easy to forget, that there no longer children who would think staring at each other’s upper body would be perfectly acceptable, and not cause his stomach to stir so.

“Sorry about before,” Karma mumbled, settling down the bags in the living room as he turns back to face Nagisa. “I wasn’t expecting you until next week.”

Nagisa snaps his mind back to the present, tilting his head. “Oh.” He looked around the room, magazines piled on the table, a blanket draped on the couch and the tv paused half-way through a movie. “I’m sorry I interrupted. There was an earlier train and I… I’m not sure why I didn’t call beforehand, I’m sorry about that.”

Karma tilted his head, a wry smile on his face. “Stop apologising, geez, I guess I’ll show you to your bedroom and you can unpa-” Nagisa knew something was bad; can feel his own heart sinking, even before Karma turns back to Nagisa. “Oh shit, the furniture guy hasn’t come with the bed yet.”

Nagisa creased his brows. “Oh, that’s unfortunate.” He looked around once more, eyes pausing at the couch. “But it’s fine, I can make do with the couch. It’ll only be a temporary arrangement, anyway.”

Karma followed Nagisa’s gaze to the couch, and let out a dissatisfied noise from the back of his throat. “We’re not talking about one night; it’s a week. I’m sure you can do better.”

Nagisa shrugged “I really don’t mind.”

Karma put a hand to his forehead and groans. “For God’s sake, don’t be a stranger.” He pulled Nagisa to his own room and pushed the door wide. “It’s a double bed, we’ll definitely fit.”

Nagisa had nodded.

And that’s how Nagisa ended up standing in front of Karma’s bed, as night fell.

They had spent the day helping Nagisa unpack some of his bags (though without most of his furniture, it wasn’t like there was any point in unpacking his clothes or other belongings), and then Karma steered Nagisa to every room in their apartment and demanded Nagisa’s input to how he wanted their shared space arranged. (Nagisa had been genuinely honest when he insisted he didn’t care, it wasn’t just out of politeness, but Karma would have none of that. So Nagisa could only reluctantly suggest some minor shifts in furniture location to satisfy his friend.)

And it helps that they’ve done chores together, because even if Nagisa’s heart jumps a little every time Karma comes near, or if he’s mind is a loss of words whenever Karma speaks, their bodies remember each other. And the shared experience of physical exertion is a quick way to bridge the gap from the past three years apart.

It also means, by nightfall, Nagisa should be too tired to worry about anything. But then, under the large covers, listening to two sets of breathing, Nagisa finds sleep evading him.

He’s lying on his back, half tempted to look towards Karma to the right of him, but he doesn’t dare. He knows from the other’s breathing patterns that he’s not quite asleep either.

It’s Karma who breaks their uneasy silence, when he shifts on the bed. Accidentally, his finger brushes against Nagisa’s and the bluenette feels his heart batter against his chest like a mad prisoner.

He lets out a small gasp from the touch, and feels Karma’s hand freeze at the noise.

“Uh- sorry,” Karma murmurs. Then his hand is gone, leaving only emptiness under the stuffy blankets.

But perhaps, that single touch was all that was needed, for a sudden courage surges within Nagisa, and he reaches across. His hand can’t quite find Karma’s, so it rests on his stomach instead, and he squeezes them gently.

No words are needed, it’s their bodies that direct them into each other, Karma’s hand finding Nagisa’s ribs and pulling him towards him, their legs brushing at first, before they are tangled within each other. They are turned onto their sides now, towards each other, only a breath away.

Despite the darkness, Nagisa finds Karma’s eyes easily. They are bright, fervent, and laughing. Hesitantly, Nagisa leans his forehead forward, and the redhead responds by doing the same, a gentle bump in greeting.

It’s almost like they’re fifteen again, in Nagisa’s bedroom, quiet because they wouldn’t want his mother to hear them. This time, it’s quiet because no words are needed between them.

Their movements - the brushing against each other, their lingering touches, and eventually, their hands entwined - speak more. It catches them up from the years of distance quicker than words can, reminds them of the way they used to be in the familiar positions, but also highlights the things that have changed.

In their close proximity, Nagisa can almost feel the movement of Karma’s chest. His heart lunges, and Nagisa knows what it wants. When he meets Karma’s eyes, he notices they’re looking pointedly at him - there’s a silent question there.

“Do you want me?” Nagisa doesn’t know where he finds the courage. Just knows that it felt like the right thing to say, to ask, in an excited whisper. He pauses, and then, is even quieter as he adds, “I think I could love you.”

He looks away, into the dark nothingness hanging around the room. Doesn’t dare to see the look in Karma’s eyes, because Karma could say yes, but he could also say no - and then that would be it. And when the furniture guy finally comes around he would find that he’d sent the bed for nothing, and Nagisa would probably be out looking for something other apartment instead, that would be colder, lonelier and-

And it’s not something Nagisa could continue to worry about as he felt Karma’s firm squeeze of his hand. His eyes are drawn back to Karma as the redhead responds with a laugh - soft and low at first, before it develops into a full on guffaw.

Nagisa pulls away, brows furrowing. “What’s so funny. I meant it - I was being serious!”

“You- you can’t-” Karma is squeezing out between moments of laughter. “You can’t spring this upon me, now, when you didn’t notice all these years. How can you ask me that, when I’ve wanted you for so long?”

“What? Wait what?”

Karma is calmer now, his laughter dying off as suddenly as it began. He shrugs, “I missed you, during high school. I knew I was developing a crush even as we only kept a bare minimum of contact online. Except you never seemed to care - never even noticed, so I backed off.”

“But I…” Nagisa paused, thinking back. “You’re right, I didn’t notice, but I noticed now. My own feelings, I think they’ve always been here, too, I just never realised.”

Karma hums noncommittally, “I don’t care about that.” He leans forward, “So what do you want to do about this?”

Nagisa eyes widen, “I- haven’t thought this far yet. But I know I want to date you, to be with you.”

“Okay,” Karma pulls his arms from his covers, taking Nagisa’s head in them as he closes the distance between them, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. “We can date, and be together, and probably discuss this tomorrow. But to be honest, I’m actually exhausted, so if we’ve got this tension out of the way, let’s sleep first.”

Nagisa nods, and shifts to a more comfortable position on the bed (still facing Karma, of course). They stay in each other’s arm for the rest of the night, and it’s the most comfortable of all the times they’ve shared a bed.

It helps, knowing, that even after his own bed arrives, he knows it wouldn’t be the last time he can have Karma in his arms as he falls into sweet, sweet dreams.

End. 

hahahahahahahaha okay, you know the part of the request that says fluff? hahaahahahaha okay. i tried. i promise, i really did, but then the plot got away from me… :’)  But I did have a lot of fun with this prompt though, so thanks for the request, even if I didn’t end up as fluffy as I thought it would be~ 

[your-fixof-fics]

Could you please do a fluff demon!Karasuma x Irina fanfic?

(1542 words) (FFN)

Karasuma was looking forward to the school holidays. The kids are great, and he loves his job - most times - but even he needs that break from humanity every once in a while. So with the school break, he had eagerly applied for a leave of absence from his government office, then booked a train trip back to the countryside.

After all, he had a secret. His real home was in a castle in the countryside near the valley of a huge mountain peak, where he has lived for over hundreds of years before he realised he was too bored, and let his curiosity take him closer to humanity. Of course, this was something he couldn’t let anyone know - not even Korosensei - so when at work, he locked that side of him away.

And now, when he finally had the chance to let out his true self, why was it, that he was thrust a sudden extra unwanted baggage. He sighed, sneaking a glance at the blonde woman marching behind him, a small suitcase trailing after her.

He sighed. “What are you doing here, Irina?”

The assassin grinned, “I have nothing to do right now, and since you’re going away on holiday, I decided I wanted to follow.”

Karasuma shook his head, “You shouldn’t come.”

“That’s not fair, why do you get to go somewhere fun and I can’t?” Irina pouted. “Do you want to get away from me that much?”

Yes, Karasuma wanted to say. But Irina has her eyes opened wide, her brows raised, an image of innocence and hurt. He settles for a stronger, firmer, “You can’t come.”

Yet, Irina is stubborn when she wants to be, and no matter how he tries to leave her behind, when he boards the train, he found his seat-mate to be none other than Irina herself. So there’s not much he can do, but sigh and stare out the window as Irina plugs in her earphones and watches some sappy drama on her phone.

They were already off the train, halfway out the station when Irina pauses. “Where’s your luggage?”

Karasuma doesn’t reply, his head buried in thoughts of how he was to explain to Irina where they really were going, or how to explain to his people back home how he brought a human girl with him. So Irina interprets his silence as a punishment for her trailing, and she closes her mouth, forming a pout as she follows him into a car.

She notices the long stare from the suited man in the driver’s seat, but she doesn’t pay attention to it, glancing out the window, instead, to take in the view of Japan’s countryside. The drive is long, and she soon drifts off as they drive closer to the mountains.

Karasuma stares at the closed lids of the blonde woman, and half wonders if he should stop the car and leave her there, but he knows they are too close to demon territory for her to be safe all alone. He sees it in the way his driver keeps trying to meet his eye from the car mirror that he has a lot of explaining to do, but he doesn’t really have words for how this came to be either.

When did it become so hard to say no, to this spoilt little assassin?

He rouses Irina awake when they arrive, after having sent his driver away first. The blonde sits up eagerly, almost bumping her head onto the roof of the car, and he has to grab her wrist to delay her from racing outside.

“Wait,” he said. “It’s not too late to turn back - I’ll drive you back to the station.”

Irina turns back to him, her head tilted sideways, “Why?”

He sighed, “Perhaps you’ll find out soon. If we’re doing this - then stay close to me at all times.”

Irina blushed a little, as she nodded her head eagerly. “Alright!”

He wrapped an arm around Irina’s shoulder as they approached the front of his mansion. He glanced up at the building of his fellow demons, and felt their presence. Their hunger and their curiosity shot through him, but he pushed them all away and guided Irina to the door.

“Irina, if I tell you we’re about to walk into a den of demons, will you believe me?” He saw the flicker of confusion in Irina’s eyes, then the distrust that crawled through her mind. “If I tell you these are brothers, do you think you can still trust me?”

“What kind of joke is this?” She shrank away, and Karasuma realised how stupid he must be sounding at that moment.

Karasuma shrugged. “You’ll see.” He took Irina’s arm again as he pushed open the large entrance door. “Welcome, to the gates to the underworld.”

He feels Irina’s fidget as they step into the mansion, into the dark foyer lit only by a few candles. From the shadows, people emerge, their eyes a soft, glowing red. It’s the only thing that marks them different to a normal human, and Karasuma is grateful for their considerate form.

“This has to be some trick,” Irina scowled, pushing away from Karasuma. She walked towards the crowds, but they shrink away, keeping a distance. This crowd here were the servants of the castle, and at least they knew to keep a level of politeness.

The other, higher-class demons, were not so considerate.

They came, racing down in hoards, also in human form, but not bothering to hide their True Shadows, revealing grotesque, inhumane, silhouettes. Karasuma heard the sudden intake of breath from Irina, and watched the way she stepped back reveal all her fears that overpower her disbelief.

Karasuma reached her first. He grabbed her hand and led her round the corner before the other demons arrive, hushing her with a look before leading her to his old room. Facing the door as he closed it, he feared to turn around and face Irina. Will there be disgust and fear in her eyes?

Silence dominated the room for a long moment, until Karasuma reluctantly turns back to Irina. She’s seated on his double bed, her eyes wide as she stares back at him.

“The whole demon thing, it wasn’t a joke,” Karasuma rubbed his forehead. “This is why you shouldn’t have come with me.”

He took a step toward her, and felt his heart drop when she flinched. He scratched his head, “Please don’t be scared.”

“Are you going to kill me for this?” Irina’s demands, “Why did you let me come?”

It’s a good question - why did he passively let Irina come here. But at least he knows how to answer the first question. He shook his head, “Please, Irina, it’s okay you know. This… isn’t an important secret as long as it doesn’t get let out into the world. But even if you tell, I doubt anyone would believe you anyway.”

“Can I still trust you?” Irina’s eyes were narrowed.

“Of course,” Karasuma replied immediately. “I let you into my deepest secret, didn’t I?”

Irina nodded slowly, her shoulders finally relaxing as she looked back up into Karasuma’s eyes. “So, I guess I’ll just have to get used to everything,” she smiled wryly. “This is definitely a different holiday than I expected, but at least my life’s not in danger, right?”

Karasuma froze, “It’s true that most demons feast on human souls, but there is a way I can protect you from that.”

“How?” Irina jumped up. “You  better not let me die in a creepy place like this.”

“I’d have to mark you as mine,” he replied.

He waited until Irina looked into his eyes before he stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands. He answers her unvoiced request for clarification by lowering his face level with hers, then his lips are on hers.

When he moves away, he finds it a little hard to meet her eyes. “It means you’re under my protection now, no one can touch you without my permission.”

Irina doesn’t say anything, just steps back towards the bed.

“I’m sorry,” Karasuma said after a while, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I thought you’d be able to take in all of this - I’ll take you back to Tokyo tomorrow.”

“No.” Irina’s eyes flashed with determination. “You can’t get rid of me this easily, I came because I wanted to find out more about you. And this may not be what I expected, but if I lose this chance, then I’ll never find out more about you anymore.” She grinned, “Plus, in human terms, I’m not just under your protection - it means I’m your woman now. So treat me like one.”

Karasuma raised his brows at her insistence to stay. But a part of him wasn’t surprised. After all, isn’t this the reason why he let her come? Because a part of him knew all along that he could introduce Irina to an inner part of him, and trust her with his secrets as she will have to trust her life with him.

He sighed once, then extended a hand to her. “Shall I show you around my home?”

She smiled and nodded.

[your-fixof-fics]

Can u do a natsu from fairy tail and reader fanfic???? Thanks

A Night Alone 

What does it mean to be the girlfriend of a wizard in Magnolia? 

That’s a question you can only ask yourself as you sit at the dinner table by yourself, the plates of food cooling in front of you as they remain untouched.

You glance at the door does not change the fact that it is closed and undisturbed; and have been for the past two hours. The sun has long since disappeared behind the mountain, but you can’t bring your arms to the table to lift yourself from your seat.

There are stories - though, of course, they’re surely exaggerations - of what it means to date a wizard in other cities. It means to be showered in jewellery and gold, plenty of parties and to be under the gaze of admiration and envy by all others. They pamper you with gifts, and you put up with their arrogance and any other peeves - a fair exchange in many’s opinions.

It is these stories that had you turning away with your chin in the air when you first moved to Magnolia and came upon the Fairy Tail wizards. That was, until you found out your friendly blonde neighbour was a wizard too, and she had more than quickly rid you of any false-preconceptions of wizards in Fairy Tail.

For one, she had said, they never have the money for expensive jewellery anyway. And you had laughed along with her, as you met the cause of Fairy Tail’s financial burdens and trouble maker. And he had grinned, then shrugged, as if he couldn’t understand the whole concept of money and materialistic assets in the first place.

The Fairy Tail wizards are easy friends to make. Lucy takes you to the guild hall once, and all the other times you are the one going back. And the way they ask about your everyday life, to see if there’s anything you ever need help with, you easily understand why they’re almost considered heroes in Magnolia. In a village you came to by yourself, suddenly you had an enormous group of friends.

But just because they make great friends doesn’t always they’d make great partners.

You don’t remember the first time you felt the attraction to the dragon slayer, nor does it matter because soon, he’s hands are on yours, and you’re not just “some villager” visiting the guild hall anymore, but “Natsu’s girl”. At first, you still blushed and looked down whenever someone called you that; can’t help but keep your fingers intertwined with his even as he banters with others and calls fire to his other hand.

There is no problem with the way he hangs out with Lucy and Erza whenever he’s with the guild, nor is there really a problem with his childish mindset towards your relationship - it only makes it more endearing as his eyes widen and his cheeks colour whenever you lean forward with a kiss. You don’t mind taking it slow.

Until one day, he stops showing up at your door. Lucy isn’t there either to tell you that they’re on a mission, and usually, it means days and days of waiting - for the day when he returns. Sometimes it’s a week, sometimes it might even be a month, and there’s nothing to do but wait.

It was a while before you got him in the habit of telling you when he leaves, of saying goodbye. When the recent missions also included a phone call the night before his returns to town to tell you this, you inwardly thank what is probably Lucy’s relationship advices.

But perhaps it was better to not expect anything, than to be excited for the whole morning and afternoon, only to sit alone in an apartment that suddenly feels too big for one person, with only the quiet ticks of the clock for companion as it reminds you that Natsu isn’t here.

At last, you decide you’ve waited long enough. You wrap the food up and put them in the fridge, even the portions for yourself, because your appetite seems to have drained with your patience. Looking out through the window, you stare into the night sky of Magnolia - it’s peaceful; quiet; no sign of your raucous group of friends.

So what do you actually get from being Natsu’s girlfriend, other than nights of loneliness?

You take your time making your way across the apartment; the coat feels heavy in your hands as you put it on. There is no rush in the search for your keys, with your legs dragging on the floors before you finally make your way onto the street. Maybe you’ll head to the Fairy Tail guild; or just take a stroll by the canal and get some air.

It’s not a decision you need to make, though, as you open the door to the street. Natsu is standing there, his hand linger in the air where he was about to turn the knob. You watch the slow turn of his head, the gaze from where the doorknob was to where you stand.

“Oh, hi,” he breaks into a large grin.

Is it relief that overwhelms you? Or anger and frustration? You take a deep breath, shaping your expression into a frown as you cross your arms. “You’re late.”

Natsu scratched his forehead, looking sheepish. “We got delayed.”

Natsu pushes past you, “Can we go inside already? I’m tired.”

In the light of the room, that’s when you notice the scratches and bandages all over his body. You let go of all pretences, rushing straight to his side. “What happened? What did I say about taking dangerous missions? Don’t tell me this is another one of those where you almost got yourself killed!”

“Nah, the mission was easy enough,” It’s Gray’s voice that answers you, entering with the rest of Natsu’s team. He was carrying a large bag. “But this guy spotted a boar on the way back, and figured he wanted to catch it.”

“That’s your delay?” You resist putting your hands up in the air, exasperated.

So many hours of waiting - for what? For…

“That’s ‘cuz it’s not a real party unless there’s good meat,” Natsu retorts, with sudden energy at the mention of meat. “C'mon, you’ve got an oven in here, right?”

You blink, stare out into the night. “Aren’t you guys tired? You still want to party?”

You don’t miss the side glance Natsu throws at Lucy, the way he stammers a little as he replies, “Yeah! I want to!”

But the way Natsu’s group slide easily in to a circle, leaving a gap for you, and the way they’re fighting to recount their latest mission and any funny stories, it’s not hard to guess who’s the party for. There is already a smile on your face as you take a seat beside Natsu.

So what does it mean to date a wizard?

Sure, it’s not all just extravagance and parties. But as you look around at the warm, laughing faces of these people, who delayed a journey just to prepare for a party for you, you can’t help but be glad your boyfriend is a wizard.

It doesn’t take long before it gets loud, and you’re sure the landlady will come in the morning with complaints from neighbours. But when that happens, you will only be able to nod and accept her complaints, because you are surely one of the loud ones, joining with the jokes.

Lucy is screaming in the kitchen as Natsu suggests roasting the boar with his fire, and Gray is only a little drunk as he dares to insult Erza about something that happened in the mission and suddenly there’s a fight in your living room. Happy is everywhere, adding to the confusion as he shouts for everyone to stop.

You smile, and bring up a hand to cover your giggle. This, makes all the waiting worth it. Makes everything worth it.

[your-fixof-fics]

Niceart - 6.: inspector Art came for the much needed caffein and sugar, but he stayed for the cute and surprisingly bright barista...

The inspector pushes the door open with one hand, letting himself in with a tired smile. The place was near deserted, and looking past the large glass panes Art notes even the sun is barely up.

The curtain separating the cafe lounge to the back swishes open, and Art smiles politely before sitting down by the counter.

"Good morning, mister!" The barista’s smile is wide and cheerful, and Art finds himself widening his own grin. "What would you like for today?"

Nice nods, almost mischievously, “Is that all?” 

It’s Art’s turn to nod as Nice turns to the coffee machine. He’s falling into daydreams as the youngster turns to the inspector again.

"First time here? I haven’t seen you around before," Nice asks, handing the mug of coffee, and the detective quickly whips out the earlier ignored wallet once more.

Art admits to it, and before he could ask for the price, the cheerful brunette is chattering again, “Great! It would have been embarrassing it wasn’t! But alright, since you’re pretty cute, how about I treat you to Nice’s first time special?”

"What’s Nice? What’s the special?" Art really didn’t care for promotions, but there was a small lingering desire to keep the conversation with this cheerful voice going - it’s a well needed break from all the talks of criminals and rouge minimum holders back at the office.

"I’m Nice! And obviously I’m referring to treating you for free just this time! And in return, I’ll be expecting you back to see me again - my shifts are mornings of the work days of the week from 6:30 to 8am, so I expect to see you either during my shifts or, even better, right as my shift ends."

Art looked wonderingly at the brunette; into his eyes that bubbled with unending energy - his words had made it too clear that this wasn’t a strategy to turn newcomers into regulars. Confused, he forces a small, polite smile before letting the yellow sugar packs distract him as he sweetened his coffee. 

"Woah, that’s so many packs of sugar!"

Art turns to look up at the brunette with a raised brow, “very observant.”

"hey, hey, you know what else I observed? That you haven’t told me your name yet~" Nice quips back with a smile, unfazed by the sarcasm.

With a sigh, Art submits. “My name is Art, I work as an inspector in the building one block away.” 

"Awesome, I’ll be expecting to see you again" Nice grins, and Art is once again slammed into a wall of bright cheerfulness.

"W-wait… I’m not so sure if I can!"

But the eyes and smiles of the boy stays pressed and imprinted onto Art’s mind, and he did find himself going back - in the first few weeks at least.

But when work overloaded and he found himself trapped into his office for days, locks of brown appeared behind the tall stacks of paper.

"Nice!" 

Even before he takes the cup of coffee and sugar sticks from Nice’s hand, he found his energy and morale boosted higher than all the effort he had put into work the past week.

And eventually, it became an unwritten schedule for Art to have a coffee break every morning at 8:05.

END

//sorry for any mistakes or anything… I wrote this 6 hours into my plane flight to Japan, so defs not in my best condition.

[your-fixof-fics]

A NiceArt oneshot that may be slightly angsty (though not completely hopeless) and should be canon compliant

Congratulations! You picked the short straw and now you get me to write your fic ;-; 

I haven’t been Englishing properly lately, probably to do with the fact that I haven’t read anything in a long time that’s in English… (unless you count King Lear, but you can hardly call my half-awake, half-asleep skimming as proper reading) 

———————-

Two young men stood before the large apartment door looking up at the high storeys, one with a small frown on his face and the other with an unreadable smirk.

"So this is the place?" Nice turned to his temporary companion, trying to look beyond the pair of small round sunglasses that shadowed mischievous eyes.

"Ya know I won’t get these wrong," was the swift reply. "He’s apartment’s on level five. Now that I’ve seen ya to your destination, I’ll let ya be."

With a quick exchange of nods, Mao, the information broker, disappeared down the street.

Nice looked around the area, the cleanly trimmed grass and hedges, the clean glass doors and the general healthy neatness atmosphere that stemmed from the surroundings. It was very much like Art to live here, although how often he actually returns home is debatable considering his high pile of workload.

Disguising himself in the Hamatora mascot suit, Nice paced into the large building. Ignoring the condescending stares of the receptionist ladies, Nice made it to Art’s apartment quickly. With Birthday’s professional tips, Nice was quick to unlock the old, creaking door.

With a deep breath, Nice stepped across the dichotomy between the carpet inside and the cold concrete of the hallway. The feeling was hollow emptiness as silence answered Nice’s intrusive steps.  One look at the surroundings, and Nice knew Art hadn’t been back for a long time. The dust that gathered by the window side lingered even as Nice brushed quick fingers across the surface.

There was no indication that Art prepared for to leave this place for so long - perhaps the need to leave was as sudden as Art’s change in character. Nice stopped abruptly at this line of thought, shaking his head as he took a step back.

The images in his mind of the incident on the boat were cruel and horrific, memories that haunted him night and day. He recalled, too often in the most inappropriate times, the serene tone of resignation in Art’s voice and the cold, distant glare of violet eyes that barricaded Nice from the superintendent’s inner mind.

Clenching his fists, Nice knew that no matter how hard he wished, it would take so much more effort if he wanted to get at least a glimpse of Art’s change and of his motives, but if a wish could be granted, then he wanted to go back to that moment dearly - to go back and pull his friend into him; to embrace him and demand he give an answer.

Taking a deep breath, Nice looked around once more with a newfound determination in his gaze. He found his way to Art’s desk, ransacking the drawers and emptying cupboards, ignoring the sense of guilt wallowing up in the back of his mind as he fidget at the stack of papers and documents.

The latest report was dated six months ago, and looking at the formal phrases of the ‘suspect’ and patterns of murdered minimum holders, it seems as if this was before Art had even discovered Moral’s identity. With a sigh, Nice continued flicking through the documents, searching for any clue of where Art’s whereabouts as well as his plans, or even an explanation for his disappearance for so long.

Biting his lip as he scoured through the old boring paper of words, he finally threw aside the large stack with the intention of looking somewhere else, but a piece of photo flew from the reports, and Nice found himself skipping a breath.

"Art…" the photo fell limply onto the floor, and Nice picked it up with trembling fingers, the thin piece of paper was numbing to Nice’s fingers. Clutching at his heart with bitter distaste, the young detective clutched at the picture of Art and Nice sitting together, laughing as Nice fed ice cream to his friend. The fragile and thin picture that crumbled and scrunched to Nice’s whitening fists.

The world whirled above Nice’s head as he stared at the soft and happy face of Art, trying to look beyond his violet gleams of happiness because the Art he saw on the boat barely weeks ago looked exactly the same from head to toe, but was a complete stranger that Nice could no longer decipher.

He closed his eyes, trying to get a grip as weight pressed down on his heart, and the feeling of suffocation flooded over him once more. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be - Art was his friend, and they were supposed to go out and have afternoon tea together and chat and go out and have fun; not leave him behind in a trail of confusion and blood.

Soft echoes of a strange voice gradually increases, memories of a few hours ago surfaces back into Nice’s mind - not that it was ever forgotten, as much as Nice wanted it to.

"Why do you want to know so badly? Is there a point at all?"

"Of course there is. It is for Art’s sake!"

"Even though he is on the opposing side?"

"It’s also for the sake of Yokohama’s safety! "

"Then if it’s for Yokohama’s safety, when the time comes, will you be able to kill him?"

Nice cringes, stepping back to the wall then collapsing onto his knees. His hands grips his shaking head in frustration.

Mao may be right that their happy friendship shattered long ago; the gentle Art has disappeared into past memories - but the future holds not only tragedy. Even then, Nice refuses to let the determination escape his shadowed eyes; the photo is prove that he means something to the ex-superintendent.

Next time we meet, I’m going to show him that picture, and remind him that we’re friends, Nice decides with a mutter. Picking up the letter, he grabs the Hamatora mascot suit and jumps out the window. 

To disappear from the surface.To find out the truth.To believe that the Art he knows still exists.