#Oi who are you calling delicate

[waxn-wane]

Have you guys ever thought about how in the earlier chapters, whenever Ciel gets out of or onto horse carriages, he doesn't ask for assistance nor does Sebastian offer him any? He can do that himself.

And yet in more recent chapters....

Every excuse just to hold his hand huh, Sebastian?

[latin5mamii]

no pressure but imo we should get a winners fic today 🤭

Every night - Jude Bellingham

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend’s real reward is at home, waiting for him to make their night unforgettable…

GENRE: smut, reward sex

WARNINGS: smut (+18), fingering, jerking off, unprotected sex, crampie…

AUTHOR’S NOTE: of course i had to write this…especially with him looking so hot tonight😌

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

If there’s one thing Jude loved more than winning a game, it was what came after.

Sure, the roar of the crowd, the thrill of the match, and the praise of being called the best on the pitch was a rush like no other. But what really got him, what he craved most, was knowing that you were waiting for him at home with that smile, the one that told him he’d more than earned his reward.

Tonight was no different.

“Oi, Jude, you comin’ out to celebrate?” Vinícius called out, his grin infectious.

“Nah, man, got somethin’ special planned,” Jude replied, a sly smile playing on his lips. The lads teased him, but he didn’t care. He knew they’d understand.

It was when he opened the door of his hotel’s room that he saw his real reward, a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” you teased.

Jude’s grin matched yours as he dropped his bag by the door, his eyes never leaving yours. “You know I had to, right? Can’t leave my biggest fan waitin’.”

He led you to the couch, where you comfortably sat on his lap, still looking at him.He kissed you slowly, like he was savoring every second of it, every taste of you. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he held you just a little tighter, his fingers gripping you like he never wanted to let go.

“Jude…” you breathed out, barely able to form words as his hands roamed your body, exploring, claiming.

“Mhm?” he hummed against your lips, his eyes half-lidded, full of that fiery intensity you loved so much.

“You were so good out there baby…” You whispered against his lips, which curved into a satisfied smile as he felt your breath against his skin.

“Yeah?” Jude’s voice was a low growl against your ear, his breath hot and teasing. “You know I do it all for you, right?”

You shivered under his touch, fingers tangling in his hair. “I know, baby.”

His hands roamed down your back, gripping your waist with a possessive intensity, his mouth leaving wet kisses down your neck. Soft moans escaped your lips.

“Don’t ever stop making that sound, yeah?” he murmured between kisses. You silently nodded, doing exactly as he requested.

Jude’s hands moved with purpose, tracing the curve of your body until his fingers brushed against the delicate lace of your panties. He pressed a finger against the fabric, feeling the heat and wetness beneath.

“Fuck, you’re so ready for me,” he growled, his voice thick. He slid your panties aside, his fingers teasing your entrance before slipping inside, making you gasp.

“Jude…” you moaned, clutching at his shoulders, your hips rocking against his hand. His thumb found your clit, circling it with just the right pressure, making you see stars.

“You like that?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“So good, Jude… don’t stop,” you panted, your nails digging into his back.

He smiled against your neck, adding another finger and thrusting them deeper, his pace relentless. “Gonna make you come, love. Gonna make you scream my name.”

You could feel the tension building, your body trembling with the need for release. Jude’s fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, baby,” he commanded, his voice rough and urgent. “Let go.”

With a cry, you did, but Jude didn’t stop, his fingers working you through your orgasm until you were a trembling, panting mess in his arms.

“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing you deeply, his hand still teasing your oversensitive flesh. “But we’re not done yet.”

You gently pushed him back, your eyes locked with his as you slid down his body. He watched you with a mix of surprise and hunger as you unbuttoned his pants, freeing his hard length.

“You want to be rewarded too, right?” you whispered, your voice sultry.

Jude could only nod, his eyes dark with desire. “I’m all yours.”

You wrapped your hand around him, your tongue flicking over the tip before taking him into your mouth. His groan was deep and guttural, his hands finding their way to your hair, guiding you as you moved.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he muttered, his hips thrusting gently. You took him deeper, your tongue swirling around him, your hand working in tandem with your mouth. His grip tightened in your hair as you increased your pace, the sounds of your sucking and his moans filling the room.

“Baby, I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained. You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his as you continued to stroke him, your mouth working the tip with focused intensity.

With a shuddering groan, he came, his release filling your mouth. You swallowed every drop, licking him clean before looking up at him with a satisfied smile.

Jude pulled you up, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your lips.

He climbed over you, positioning himself between your legs. He grabbed your hips, pulling you closer as he lined himself up with your entrance. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and you closed your eyes at the feeling.

“Nu-uh, let me look at these pretty eyes,” Jude murmured, his voice rough.

You did as he asked, opening your ‘pretty eyes’ and grabbing his hand, squeezing and caressing it

As he entered you, he started moving his hips slowly at first, savoring every moment. You moaned softly, the sensation overwhelming.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. “So tight, so perfect.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Jude… faster, please.”

He obliged, his thrusts becoming more urgent, each one driving you closer to the edge.Your gasps and moans filled the room .

“Your legs are shaking so much, baby,” he whispered, a wicked grin playing on his lips. “You like it when I fuck you like this?”

“God- Don’t stop please,” you whimpered , your nails digging into his shoulders.

He increased his pace, his thrusts hitting deeper and harder. “I never thought I’d hear you say this. Fuck, you’re so hot.”

You moaned louder, your body arching into his. “Jude… I’m so close…”

“Me too, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. “I’m gonna come.”

The intensity of his thrusts, combined with the pressure of his thumb on your clit, pushed you over the edge once more.As he spilled inside you, he messily kissed you,moving your hair from your face.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, both of you breathing heavily, hearts pounding.

You turned to face him, blushing a bit.

“Why are you looking at me like this?”you asked, trying to catch your breath, a playful grin on your face.

“I’m just imagining how amazing it would be to celebrate like this every night.”

[writeriguess]

Hey hey! If you haven't already, may I get a good ol' shoujo like classic confession from Bakugou?

A Spark of Truth

You were standing by the window, absentmindedly watching the rain as it tapped lightly against the glass. It had been a long day, and you were just trying to clear your head. The sound of footsteps grew closer, and you turned to find Bakugou standing at the door, a rare, serious expression on his face.

"Oi," he called, his voice rough but not as brash as usual. "We need to talk."

You raised an eyebrow, heart suddenly pounding in your chest. He never spoke like that unless something was on his mind. You gave a slow nod, stepping aside to let him in.

He stepped forward, but didn't say anything at first. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his fiery gaze focused on you, yet there was an odd vulnerability in his eyes. You couldn’t quite place it, but it made your stomach do flips.

"Look," he started, and his tone was rough, like it always was when he was trying to hide something. "I don’t... I don’t know how to say this shit without it sounding stupid."

Your chest tightened at the unfamiliar words, and you couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. Bakugou never spoke like this unless it meant something serious.

He took a step closer, his hand gripping the edge of the desk as if he needed something to hold onto. "I’m not good at this, okay? But I need you to listen." His eyes softened for a moment, and you could see the hesitation in his expression, the way he was trying to find the right words.

And then, with a deep breath, Bakugou let it all go.

"I like you, damn it. A lot. I’ve been trying to ignore it for the longest time, but I can’t anymore," he muttered, his voice low and full of frustration. "You’re always on my mind, and I hate it. I hate how it makes me act all... like this. But I don’t care anymore."

You were frozen in place, unable to fully process what he’d just said. Did Bakugou, the boy who could never seem to express himself properly, just confess to you? Your heart was pounding in your ears as his words settled in your chest.

"I’m not good with feelings, and I sure as hell don’t know how to do this the right way, but… I’m here, and I’m telling you now." He stepped forward again, closing the space between you. His hands reached out, fingers brushing your arm like it was the most delicate thing he’d ever touched.

A quiet tension filled the air, the kind that could break you if you weren’t careful. And then, slowly, hesitantly, Bakugou leaned in, his lips brushing yours—just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

"You’re the one who makes me lose my mind, you know that?" he whispered, his forehead leaning against yours.

You didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, but it didn’t matter. His confession was all you needed to know.

"I like you, too," you whispered back, your heart fluttering as he let out a low, contented sigh, holding you closer.

And just like that, the walls between you two crumbled, leaving only the quiet comfort of mutual feelings and the rain tapping gently on the window.

[kenslilove]

᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?! Pt.2

preview: You called him your boyfriend? Why would you do that? Draken isn't sure he's cut out to be the boyfriend to Takemichi's precious little sister...

ft. Ken "Draken" Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 9kish... help 🫠🤪😰😵‍💫🥴🤡

W. NFSW 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end 🥹🥹

an. The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encapsulates how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. I'm so very happy to be reposting this piece on this blog to share with yall, it’s literally so important to me <33 and I’m so so happy this is the fic that is bringing back my writing spark! Part 3 will hopefully be even better than this 🙏🏼🤭 Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. 

extra note: Listen to “Nothings gonna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <33

tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eveningatthemoviesnetwork and @shoyosdoll bc you've been such a supporter of this fic hehe <33 i hope you love part 2 as much as part 1 <33

“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?” 

There was silence on Draken’s end of the phone as all the other males on-call waited for a response. Mikey was the first one to say something back, annoyance clear in his tone as he spoke directly into the receiver, making his voice sound much louder than necessary. 

“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.” 

“Sorry–” Draken finally responded, his voice seeming just a bit more… strained than usual. Not enough for the boys to notice until he grunted softly, what seemed to be creaking or something muffled in the background of his audio call. 

“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s. 

“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple. 

If he was being honest, he wasn’t really paying attention to the call, how could he, when you, Takemichi’s precious little sister was underneath him, sprawled out and trembled as his cock drilled into you at a steady pace. You were biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Draken swore that blood would free itself soon from the delicate flesh, your eyes screwed shut as your pretty chest bounced with each thrust of his hips. You were trying so hard for him to be quiet, just like he instructed as soon as he picked up the phone. The attempt was adorable, considering how vocal you usually were for him. 

But Draken was twisted, he knew that deep down, so he just couldn’t help himself when he angled his hips just right so his cock head would jab right into that gummy sweet spot within your walls. You yelped, pleasure shooting up your spine, only for the sound to be cut off by the smack of Draken’s free palm clamping over your mouth. 

“Who has a girl over~?” Baji piped up, suddenly very much interested in the conversation. Draken laughed shallowly into his receiver, his hand tightening up along your jaw as he continued to ram into the spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t even control your babbles when he did this, an endless stream of whimpers and sobs being muffled into his palm as you held onto his wrist for dear life. 

“Gotta go, Text me what time I needa be there–” Draken didn’t wait for a response from his friends. Instead, he hung up quickly, abandoning the device somewhere on the bed. When he released the hold on your mouth you whined at him, the tears finally spilling from your eyes. 

“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!” 

“So fuckin loud pretty, all the damn time,” Draken says it with a grin, easily manhandling your thighs over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper. He presses a kiss to your ankle, right beside the anklet he bought you as your pussy flutters so desperately around his cock. 

“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”

“Please what?” Draken grunts, his hips slapping up against yours ruthlessly now as his release comes dangerously close. He knew you weren’t far behind. Had learned your signs very early on. Your toes would curl, your eyes would get foggy, chest stuttering. Your pussy would milk him so tight and leave rings of arousal on his cock. 

And he loved every second of it. 

“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming hoarse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit. 

“Go on then, cum, make a fuckin mess f’me gorgeous.” He breathes, licking his lips when you throw your head back with a cry. The mess you make on his cock is breathtaking, arousal squirting from your used hole and dousing his hand, wrist and abs. He swears under his breath at the borderline painful grip your pussy has on his cock when you finish, one final thrust allowing him to spill ropes of cum right up against your cervix. 

Draken’s trembling when he falls onto his elbows over you, his breath coming out a bit shaky as his cock still twitches within your walls in the aftermath of both of your highs. He starts pressing wet, opened-mouthed kisses along your neck and face to help you come too, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you whine softly. 

“You okay baby?” His voice is a whisper, and as the energy slowly comes back to you he smooths his palm over your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye to pick up leftover tears. You nod, one of your trembly hands lazily dragging through his black locks of hair. “Mhm, m’good, Kenny. Help me sit up?” He does, one big palm on the back of your neck to help you to sit up against the headboard. 

He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realises just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips. 

You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily. 

“M’gunna get a cloth.” He says, handing you a glass of water and your phone as soon as he stands to keep you occupied. His muscles are still a bit tingly as he stands, arms stretching up and above his head as he heads towards the bathroom. 

“Nice butt!” You call out, making him snort softly as he stands before the bathroom mirror. He can’t help but admire the marks you’ve littered across his neck and chest, the cute little bruises reminding him of the shape of your puckered lips. He then examines the nail marks you’ve left along his forearms and shoulders, some of the red pathways breaking in the middle to show little droplets of blood. Lastly, he sighs dreamily at the sheen of your arousal that coats his pelvis, a ring of white still layered at his base. 

Man knew he was in heaven. 

When he came back to the bedroom after tidying himself a bit, as well as with a cloth in hand you were on the phone with someone, giggling into the receiver and looking up at Draken with a playful glint in your eye. 

“I’ll actually meet with you later, m’with my boyfriend right now~” Despite the way your giggling increased and you squealed to your friend about how you’ve mentioned him before with such excitement, Draken was anything but that. 

His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title? 

“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”

One hand was planted on the mattress as he gently wiped the dampened towel over your pussy and thighs, your hand coming to cover his, making him pause in your tracks. “Shouldn’t scowl so much, handsome.” You murmur it gently, thumb gently smoothing between his brows in an attempt to fix the crinkles there. “You’ll get wrinkles~”

“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist. 

“Well, yea–”

“We haven’t talked about that.” He was still being blunt as ever, so much so it almost startled you, made you feel much smaller under him as he sat up on his hunched, throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry bin. 

“I-I know…” You simply muttered, chest started to feel tight as you watched just how serious his face had become. He was tugging his strands of black hair into a low bun when you sat up a bit more, fingers gently brushing over his chest. “But I just thought, thought that we were together…”

And it wasn’t wrong for you to think that way. Ever since that first night at Draken’s apartment the two of you had been secretly hanging out. You went out to restaurants, and the local arcade took his bike to the mountainside and watched the sunset. The two of you had bought little things for one another, like the gold anklet that sat pretty on your ankle and the hello kitty keychain that was currently attached to his bike keys. You even made sure to turn off your location so Takemichi couldn’t see just how often you were having sleepovers at Draken’s place. 

You two did the things that couples did together. You two did the things that you saw Takemichi and Hina do on the regular. Dare you even say, you did things with Draken that he and Emma used to do–

Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got. 

“Well, maybe you shoulda thought about talkin to me about it first before you go squealing that I’m your boyfriend.” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, a tone he usually used with his friends but never really with you. It had you suck in a soft breath, suddenly feeling very exposed curled up in nothing but his bedsheets. 

“You don’t have to be so mean–” 

“M’not being mean, I’m being realistic. It ain’t cute to just assume I’m your boyfriend when we haven’t talked about anything official.” He was off the bed now, tugging up his boxers. When you didn’t respond he sighed. “We hang out and fuck around, why do we need to be more than–” 

When he turned around again to look you in the eye his own voice caught in his throat. Your eyes had gotten wide, a glossy layer of tears hiding the usual beautiful shine your gaze held. Your lower lip was trembling softly, fingers clutching onto the covers so tightly he noticed how your knuckles turned white. 

“Hey–” 

“M’gunna go.” You interrupted, the crack in your tone only making his heart plummet harder in his chest. As you got to your feet, his blanket securely wrapped around you he grabbed both your shoulders. 

“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–” 

“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground. 

“Like hell you are. We’re not telling him about us, remember what happened last time?” Draken could still hear the boy's ruthless comments after that first night, the crack of Baji’s fist against his jaw– 

“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face. 

“Would you stop being such a brat?” Draken grabbed at your arm this time, tugging it back towards him. He himself hadn’t expected it to be so forceful, the little squeak you released and the falling of tears instantly making him let go of you. You both stared at each other a little shocked, Draken’s breath froze in his throat and his fingertips went a bit cold as you looked at him. 

Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him? 

Without a word, you finally went into the bathroom, and it was only then that Draken let out his frustrated breath, cheeks feeling hot as he clenched his fists up at his sides. Fuck, what the fuck was happening right now. He hated this nonsense, hated just how frustrated he felt, hated that look on your face, hated that he couldn’t even really understand what emotions were running through his head. 

Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal? 

He used his own phone to call you a cab, knowing you wouldn’t actually call Takemichi to pick you up. You had also gotten an ear full after getting caught, and as much as you trusted your brother, the last thing you needed right now was a lecture. You stayed locked in the bathroom until Draken gave the wood a gentle knock with his knuckles. 

“Cabs here…” He murmured. You didn’t look at him when you walked out, eyes bloodshot and downcast and when slipped past him fully clothed. He watched from the ledge of his bed, jaw set rigid as you so casually adjusted your bag over your shoulder, now a little overfilled with the stuff you had started to accumulate in his bathroom. Something slipped from your fingertips onto his kitchen counter before you made a beeline for the door, Draken only getting up when it closed firmly behind you. 

He approached slowly, that odd feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach seeming to grow, expanding into his chest as he noticed the subtle twinkle on the countertop. It was the anklet he bought you, dainty, gold, shiny, his initials hanging from the small tag. 

“Fuck—!“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest. 

Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what? 

You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong? 

Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go? 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed leaned up against the wall like that, thoughts running wildly through his mind, making it pound. Eventually, when his eyes started to get sore, narrowing down in an attempt to hold back unwanted angry tears he moved back to his room to plop himself down into bed. And he didn’t get up for the rest of the evening. 

It had been a week. 

One whole week since you had left Draken’s apartment, and the two of you had not spoken since. Day three was when Draken caved and texted you, considering you had turned your location off for him so he couldn’t check up on you from time to time. 

“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.” 

Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last. 

“Don’t shut me out like this.” 

And still, nothing. It was killing Draken from the inside out. Each day that passed made him more anxious than the last. Were you okay? Did you hate him now? Were you crying to your brother? Draken couldn’t ask Takemichi about you, cause he didn’t even know you two were a thing in the first place. But every time he saw his black-haired friend his heart would stutter, tightening up in his chest. 

You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now? 

Draken had a bad habit of letting things like this consume him. Almost everything seemed to remind him of you or something the two of you had done and it was driving him a little crazy. And all because you had called him your boyfriend. 

All because Draken was afraid to commit to someone again despite his need to do so. All of his friends always thought he was so mature, and yet here he was, working through feelings that were staring him right in the face like some teenage boy. 

He kept his headphones in at the shop, his body hunched slightly on the stool he set up beside the bike he was currently repairing. The music was loud, drowning out not only the background noise but his thoughts that seem to repeat themselves over and over. His brows were slightly furrowed when he lifted from the busted engine only a moment, just enough to wipe away excess sweat that built up on his brow. 

That’s when he caught a glimpse of you. It made his heart pause mid-beat, breath hitching in his throat. He caught the last bits of you as you rounded the corner that led up the stairs, probably in search of Takemichi But that didn’t matter. 

Draken found himself scurrying from his seat, the stool skidding from under him as he was quick to follow suit. With long strides, he made it to the stairs and there you were, hand on the railing, one of those cute little skirts he loved hugging your waist just right. He called out to you, twice actually, quickly pulling his headphones from his ears when you actually turned to look at him. 

“Hey–” 

“I won’t be long.” You simply responded, voice sounding much too sad for Draken’s liking. He noticed how your hand tensed up on the railing when he approached and it made him frown. “I’m just grabbing something for Michi–”

“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”

“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.

His sweet little crybaby. 

“C’mere…” He was on the step right in front of you now, the levelling allowing him to lean down just a bit so his face could be close to yours. You took your time meeting his gaze, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “It’s okay baby…” 

“You–” He could tell you were trying to gather your bearings, trying so desperately not to crumble and let the tears fall that were already sitting in your lashes. He was patient with you, scared that if he went in too strong you’d just run off from him again. You sucked in a shaky breath before continuing. “You really hurt me, Draken.” 

He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you. 

“I know, I know little love and–” 

“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you–”

“Then be my boyfriend.” It had been a bit more firm than he expected, your brows set and a little pout on your lips after you spoke it. Had things been a little different, he would have told you just how proud he was of you for standing your ground like that. 

“It’s not, it's just not that simple.” It was his turn to think his words over, lips catching between his teeth as those doubtful thoughts started returning to him. He was right, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that simple because– 

“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. 

“Well to start, there’s your brother–” 

“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–” 

“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words. 

“What are you so afraid of?”  

That really made Draken stop, eyes widening just a bit as he looked back into your teary ones. Your chest was heaving a bit as the silence sat heavily between the two of you. Draken blinked, once, twice, brain reeling over this one simple question. 

Draken had been in many fights, grew up in a brothel, seen blood and gore and sex and a lot of things people shouldn’t see. He wasn’t scared any of those times. So, why now? Why was he so scared now as he looked into your eyes that were basically pleading with him for an answer. 

“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.” 

There was another beat of silence before you continued up the staircase. Draken only looked up when he knew you were at the top, far enough away from him that he didn’t have to feel like your gaze was piercing him. He wished that he didn’t look though, wished that he hadn’t seen that sad smile on your lips. 

He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you. 

“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.” 

Drake wasn’t sure how much time had passed now since he had seen you. The first few days he refused to even think about that interaction on the stairs. That sad smile of yours easily pulls his heart apart and thinking back on it only made him more and more pissed at himself. 

So instead of thinking of you, he filled his time with work. He found himself opening and closing the shop, despite Inui trying to make him go back to their balanced schedule. He took on more projects, burying himself under the weight of grease and bolts instead of dealing with the weight that now sat in his chest.

You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back. 

What got Draken out of work early one night was a call from Mitsuya. He called twice before Draken reluctantly picked up the phone, the annoyance clear in his tone as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder. 

“Ya know m’working–” 

“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organising threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?” 

“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of– 

“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.” 

“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya. 

“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”

“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.

“Bet you haven’t even showered.” 

“Oh fuck off–” Draken grunted, sniffing himself only because Mitsuya wasn’t there to give him the side-eye. He scowled softly to himself when the scent he picked up coming from his overalls was far from pleasant. “Will you quit nagging me if I come, mom?” 

“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.” 

Draken wasn’t given the opportunity to snap back with something clever, the phone went dead right away. With a huff Draken resultantly found himself putting his tools away, tucking his overused workbench in its proper corner so he could head off to Mistuya’s. 

But not without a shower first. 

Draken’s hair was still damp when he headed for Mitsuya’s place. With how fast Draken sped his bike down the freeway, it only took about ten minutes tops. Draken lugged a case of beer with him up to the familiar walkway that belonged to Mitsuya’s townhouse. When he opened the door he still had his work glasses on, a lazy grin tugging on his features when he was met with the sight of Draken’s scowling face. 

“Would you look at that, he showered.”

Draken just rolled his eyes, nudging past Mitsuya and making himself at home. The two found themselves quickly situated on the couch, spread out on each end and open beers on coasters. Mitsuya had pulled out his old N64, so the two were currently in a round of Mario kart. The silence had been comfortable between the two, as it usually was until Mitsuay finally decided to speak up. 

“So, what's got you fucked up?” 

“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen. 

“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–” 

“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.” 

“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”

Draken almost choked on his beer, finally looking away from the screen to look at Mitsuya who was still calm as ever. Only after he passed the finish line did he meet Draken’s gaze, one brow lifted up. 

“What about her?” 

“You were seeing her–” 

“I was not.” 

Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head. 

“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.” 

“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself. 

“So, did you two break up?”

“We were never together.” Draken simply stated, going to start another round of Mario kart. But as soon as the words left his lips he hated the way they sounded, and now that they were out there, floating around his head it made him grip his controller a little tighter. 

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mitsuya said, that dumb smile of his making Draken shake his head, grit his teeth even. It was Mitsuya’s turn to scoff, tipping his beer back to polish it off. “You are such a fuckin doofus dude.” 

“Watch your mouth man–” 

“Why are ya doing this to yourself?” Draken sucked in a little breath. The silence hung in the air between them a little and Mitsuya rolled his eyes when he saw how Draken’s head tipped slightly to the side in confusion. He continued as he opened up another beer. “Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? You can do commitment, you’ve done it before.” 

Draken felt a little frozen in place, eyes unfocused as he tried to process what Mitsuya had so obviously laid out for him. His heart started to pick up in his chest as he really thought it over, well at least tried to. “Yea, I did it before and look what happened.” 

Flashes of his relationship with Emma were impossible to ignore. How things went from wonderful to terrible so quickly. How the two of them became each other's world so fast for it all to crash and burn. The fighting, the lies, how he was so scared after he lost her but to also lose everyone he loved. His found family was all he had, and if they had decided to up and leave– 

“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?” 

“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms. 

“So, let yourself be happy, dude.” 

“But she’s another little sister–” 

“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! I’m joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.” 

Draken slowly nodded at that, allowing himself to really think it all over. He had never been the type to care so much about what others thought about him. He was letting himself get in his head for something that was already over and done with. Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he picked up another beer, shaking his head as he twisted the top off to chug some of it down. 

“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s. 

“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.” 

Draken pouted, mumbling something along the lines of “maybe I did” before he took another drink. Looking down the stem of the bottle Draken sighed softly, thinking of that sad smile on your face. It made him scoff at himself. “I just– I’m not sure I’ll be able to treat her right, as her boyfriend.” 

“Well, she’s stuck around this long, hasn’t she?” Mitsuya started to set up another game of Mario Kart for the two of them as Draken nodded slowly. “I’m sure if she didn’t think you’d treat her right, she woulda left.” 

Those couple words were left lingering in Draken’s head the rest of the evening. Mitsuya didn’t bring it up again, and Draken didn’t dare to. But as he started to pass out on his friend's couch, he had one too many beers to be driving himself home, he really thought over what Mitsuya had said. What he knew was right. 

I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left. 

Draken chuckled softly to himself, his palm coming up to slap him right on the forehead. The sting made him hiss to himself, but it's what he deserved. He’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes he wished his brain worked the way Mitsuya’s did. 

“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again. 

He knew you’d be finishing classes up on campus right now, had picked you up and dropped you off many times before to know that you’d be coming out of the big college building any minute now. He parked right out front, his hands dug deep into his pockets as he watched the door. His eyes scanned over many faces, all different kinds, all of them filtering through, onyx gaze trying to lock onto– 

You. 

You were in the middle of giggling, those familiar wrinkles showing up around the corners of your eyes, your pretty manicured nails holding the books you had tighter to your chest. The image made him smile fondly, lips upturned just a little when the two of you finally made eye contact. 

He was more than grateful that you returned the small smile. The darkest parts of him had conceived him; you'd simply walk right by him, or even turn around in the opposite direction. But instead, you excused yourself from your friends, who all couldn’t help but side-eye the older, imitating dude leaning on a motorcycle, dragon tattoo on full display with his hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. As you approach he speaks, unable to keep his eyes off your own. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside. 

“Come with me?” He asks, and the momentary silence makes him feel more nervous than he had in a long time. You could say no, he could have taken too long. You could have already slipped right out of his fingertips and it would be all his fault– 

“Okay.” You simply reply, and your smile doesn’t falter. It stays as you tuck your books away, as he places his helmet on your bread and helps you adjust the straps. You in front of him on the bike just as you had on that first night he picked you up. His hands easily swallowed yours on the handlebars, and before you knew it the two of you were speeding off towards his place. You knew that because the route had become too familiar after the many times he’d whisked you away after school. Your heart was beating fast in your chest like it normally did when you rode on Draken’s bike. It filled you with a type of adrenaline you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. 

That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual. 

After a couple of sharp turns and uphill roads, you two made it to Draken’s apartment. He gave you your space as you two headed to his room a couple of floors up, his heart seeming to be in his throat. He needed to relax, he knew exactly what he had to say to you, knew what he had to do, and yet as he fiddled with his keys a bit to find the right one that opened his apartment, the familiar scent of your perfume was making his brain a little foggy. 

It was the warmth of your fingers that shook him from whatever haze he was in, the tips of his ears feeling a bit hot as your fingers easily tugged the right key, helped him slip it into the lock. “It’s this one, Ken.” You say it as if your presence alone isn’t making him weak at the knees. 

He just nodded, allowing you in first. Shoes were slipped off and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen. You stood right in the middle, your arms tucked neatly behind your back, hands clasped. He missed the way you used to make yourself at home, grabbing something from his fridge or sprawling out on his couch. 

He wanted you to be that comfortable again. 

“I really needed to see you.” He started, his voice a little hesitant. He cleared his throat, fingers once again in his pockets. He looked everywhere but at you, despite the way he felt your gentle gaze burning into him. “I needed, I just–” He huffed. “I really fucked up–” 

There was your familiar warmth again, but instead, you were grabbing at one of his hands. So easily your fingers threaded into his, and suddenly the weight in his tummy didn’t feel all that heavy as he looked down at you, those wide pretty eyes he had missed so fucking much. “You did kinda fuck up–” You murmur, which makes him huff again, this time with a hint of laughter behind it. “I know I did. I know.”

He pulled you in a little closer, and he was so very grateful that you weren't resistant. In fact, you melted into his chest, your face finding that familiar comfortable spot against his peck, cheek pressed up against where you felt his heartbeat, which was currently pounding in his chest. He sucks in another breath, one hand coming to gently pet your head. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry sweetheart…” He feels the way you start to tremble and it eats at him, brows furrowing up. “Please, don’t babygirl, m’tryna apologise to you–” 

“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again!” Your voice cracks and Ken has to chuckle under his breath, but there's no bite to his laughter, only fondness. “Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–” 

That's when he finally stops you, one big palm cupping your cheek. He tilts your head up, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone before he's pressing a smooch to your lips. You both seem to relax against the embrace, and when he feels a salty tear hit his thumb he swipes it away, lips parting from your just enough so he can murmur against them. 

“I know, lil love. I know.” When your lower lip trembles a bit a smile breaks out on his lips. One that makes the corner of his lips twitch, little wrinkles showing up around his eyes. His hands cup your neck so gently, thumbs pressing up against the underside of your jaw. He murmurs again, this time his words slurred along with your breathy, soft whimper. “I want you too…” 

This time the kiss is desperate, needy. Your fingers turn white at the knuckles when you grip at his shirt, lips moulding against his own. Draken’s tongue is impatient, slithering into your open mouth and reexploring the warm cavern that is your mouth. He huffs when your chest presses flush to him, and with ease his big hands cup your thighs, scooping you into his embrace. Your legs cling to his waist without a thought, the giddy giggle bubbling from your lips and against his own making a bit of blush rise on his cheeks. 

Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound. 

Draken tries not to trip over himself as he carries you off to his bedroom, his back hitting up against the door at the same time your teeth playfully tug at his bottom lip. He drops you down and the bounce of your body has both of you a little too excited, Draken’s shirt easily coming off as he tugs it up over his head. 

“Lemme show you how badly I want you, baby.” His voice has already gotten deeper, and as his big hand comes to cup the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss he’s a bit surprised when both your palms press against his chest, pushing him away an inch.

Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again– 

His breath left him in a huff when his back hit the mattress, your body rolling over him. He blinked a few times as you straddled him, palms pressed against his chest and your face heated. He could tell that a flush was working its way up to your cheeks when you looked down at him, your body slowly scooting down from his waist to his hips. 

“No, let me s-show you.” Despite just how nervous you were, Draken could tell by the way you chewed on your lower lip, how your fingers trembled a little, undoing his belt and zipper, his cock still twitched with excitement underneath you an odd sense of pride flowing through him. 

You had come a long way, from the virgin he met all those months ago. He had just been the biggest idiot and here he was, pushing his hair from his face so he could watch how your pretty little hands handled his semi-hard cock with such care. How you looked at him first, batted your lashes when you leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses right to his tip. 

“Oh fuck—“ 

Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever. 

You took a deep breath through your nose before taking his tip between your lips, your eyes never leaving his dilated ones. He propped himself up on an elbow, free hand easing the hair away from your face. It was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. Wide doe eyes, hand barely wrapped around his fat base, pretty lips suckling away at his tip. 

“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me pretty girl.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag– 

He’d save it for another time. 

“Atta girl…” He murmured, chest rising and falling a little faster as you gained your rhythm. Your eyes peaked up at him again, before you got back into it, cheeks hollowing as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. You reached about halfway, which Draken noticed made your brows furrow up. 

“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going lil love.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded. 

“W-Why did you–” He silenced your whining with another fierce kiss, and without hesitation you were manhandled back into his pillows, flat on your back. He has no problem working your soiled panties off your thighs, deciding to just tuck the extra material of your skirt into the waistband “Felt fucking awesome.” Your panties are tossed right over your shoulder, a cute yelp leaving you when he hauls both your thighs up, over his shoulders. “But I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.” 

From this position your pussy was split wide open for him, your clit poking out and throbbing from under the hood. He sighed, content, pausing his previous actions to lean in, pressing the softest of kisses right up against your clit. 

“My pretty pussy.” His soft touch is gone, replaced with his burning desire to claim you again. A few rubs of his cock against your slicken folds, along with your drool is enough to get his cock wet enough to slip in. His breathing hitches once his head makes it past the tight ring of your muscles, the squeeze vice-like just from the simple intrusion. 

“K-Ken–” 

“Shh, I know.” He coos, hunching over you. With your thighs on his shoulders, his shifting has you in a mating press, a position that all too knew and is making your head spin. Your tummy folds the closer he gets to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your clit while the other intertwines with the hand you had gripping the sheets close to your head. “S’always gonna be a lil tight, isn’t it babygirl.” 

You’re already moaning in a wonton fashion, eyes struggling to stay open as he rocks his cock head in and out, his thumb working at your nub. When your pussy starts fluttering for him he works in a few more inches, needy sounds spilling into each other mouth due to his lips staying inches away from your own. “Gonna take it all f’me? Be my good girl?”  

You nod, and when you look at him again your eyes have that familiar glassy sheen he’s grown to love. He kisses you right under the eye before with one good push his cock is all the way inside. The sound you make is downright sinful, something between a cry and a mewl and it has Draken’s cock twitching within the tightness of your cunt. It makes his vision go a little stary, the growl he releases vibrating through his chest. 

“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realise existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face. 

“D-Deep~!” You manage to squeak, and Draken has to crack a grin, his hips suddenly stopping their brutal pace just so he can roll them instead. That had you gasping, drool spilling from your hung lips as you look up at him with a gaze that's already beyond fucked out. “S’real deep baby, s’good though yea?” 

You nod, fresh tears on your lashes. “Only the best for my baby.” He utters, hips switching back and forth between rutting and grinding. He’s convinced you’ve already cum on his cock, the amount of slick bubbling around his shaft and the tightness of your walls are his hints, but he keeps going, needing to fill you up after so long. Despite your cries, he brings his hand back to your clit, his rubs becoming sloppy. He only releases your hand to cup the back of your neck instead, keeping your foreheads pressed together. 

“Eyes on me, lil love.” You do manage to open your teary eyes, meeting his dilated pupils. “Good, good girl.” His body starts to twitch, broad shoulders rippling and his thighs starting to tremble as his own release quickly builds in his gut. “I– fuck. Baby, I love you, pretty–” 

And despite just how dumbed out you were moments before, those words seem to bring some clarity to your eyes. Your fingers tangle into his sweaty hair, gripping it at the roots for your sanity. The pleasant little laugh you let out and breathe against his lips makes his heart jump against his ribcage. 

“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–” 

His climax hits him hard, the full-body chill he experiences making goosebumps rise along his spine as he fills you up. The feeling of his warm, thick cum is enough to have you coming undone right along with him, the sensation being yet another new one when liquid seems to gush past your little hole. It makes Draken’s balls tighten up instantly, the warm splash of your arousal onto his fingers that still gently coax pleasure out of your clit. And he can’t help but grin, a boyish grin that quickly turns into a grunt. “Fuck, fuckin squirtin on me, how cute.” 

He doesn’t pull out, he can’t. He needs to be close to you, keep your limp body tucked carefully underneath him. You’re too far in to even notice the mess, your whines and whimpers dwindling down into soft breaths as he turns to his side, keeping you in his chest. His cock slowly softens in your walls, and even then, Draken’s keeps you glued to him as you both come down, tremors and pants still coming over both of you. 

“Sweetheart.” He murmurs, face nuzzling up against your temple. When he gets a whine in return he holds you closer, careful to ease your face away from his chest so he can cover your tear-streaked face in kisses. “You’re okay, my baby…” 

Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft air, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with. 

Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride. 

“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans. 

“Fine, just won’t hold your hand, brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones. 

Draken hadn’t felt this nervous ever, in his entire life (this was a lie, he’s just dramatic as ever). The two of you were only steps away from your place, the same place you and Takemichi lived in together. Everyone was there, the entire found family, and you two were now official…

He was getting flashbacks of the group chat, his friend's ruthless behaviour, the way Takemichi hadn’t talked to him for one whole week, and the sweet satisfaction Baji got when he got one free punch to his jaw for Takemichi’s sake. 

“Maybe we can tell them next week, or over a call. Whattya think lil love,” Draken murmured, his face hiding in your hairline. Your sweet laughter sent that familiar warmth through his chest, and one good tug on his hand had him reluctantly walking back towards the house. “You’ll be fine.” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “We’re gonna do it together.” 

When you hopped up onto the front step, Draken’s eyes trailed down to the sweet dangling sound that was the anklet looped around your ankle. The gold one, with his initials, right where it belonged. The sight had him calming a little, brows furrowed in the way they usually did when he became focused. “Right, together.” 

“Michi-nii!” You call out once the two of you enter the house, the sound of music and chatter already filling the front entrance. Draken holds your hand a little tighter as if he had been entering a place he’d never been before. 

“Living room!” Takemichi calls out, surrounded by founding members of toman, each huddled around the kotatsu table that was covered in snacks, beers, and cards. Oddly enough the chatter died down as Takemichi was dealing out for another round, a laugh leaving his lips. 

“You guys gonna take this round seriously–” It was Mikey’s elbow into his ribs that silenced him, a little puff escaping his lungs. He was about to complain when his eyes were brought to what everyone seemed to be staring at. 

And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone. 

“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–” 

“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.” 

“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.” 

“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer. 

And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier. 

“Well, what the fuck is this–” 

“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch. 

“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”

“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.” 

There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath. 

“Classic sister fucker–”

“Well, you could have at least asked first?!” Takemichi was dramatic as ever, tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of his precious little sister being tarnished by the big, mean, scary man that was Draken. He let go of your hand then, being just as dramatic as Takemichi if not more so “I did ask, I just asked in front of everyone.” 

“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again. 

“Now why would you say that you ass–”

“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis. 

“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder. 

And amidst the bickering and nonsense that always seemed to break out between the boys, you took a seat next to Mikey, taking the Taiyaki he had to offer you with a little huff. He noticed the anklet, observant as ever as you rolled your eyes when Takemichi actually started crying, something about you losing your innocence. 

“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”

“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled. 

“I can’t wait to be with him, forever!”

property of kenslilove, do not copy, repost, translate, or move onto any other platform!! 

[strawbrryvyy]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Dripping oceans -pwb ࿐ྂ

Pairing- Park Wonbin x fem!reader

genre- fluff, smut

tw- fingering, (general smut ) , so nothing too freaky

Wc-2.4k

a/n: wrote this while at the beach, with situationshippppp soooo lightly based on that!!

The splashes of water against your skin echoed through the salty, crisp air. The sun cast a golden glow, illuminating the subtle tan you had garnered over the past few days. You looked at Wonbin with glee, his dark hair damp and tousled, contrasting against the pale grains of sand as he rolled around with your brother.

The warmth of the afternoon wrapped around you like a gentle embrace as you stretched your legs out, toes curling into the damp shoreline. The waves lapped at your ankles, cool and refreshing—a stark contrast to the heat lingering on your sun-kissed skin.

Wonbin’s laughter rang out, rich and carefree, as he playfully tackled your brother into the sand. Grains clung to his damp skin, speckling his toned arms and the curve of his cheek, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was in his element—unbothered, unfiltered, his usual polished demeanor melting away under the golden light.

"Oi! Why are you staring at us like that, you weirdo?" your brother, Sungchan, called out, standing victorious at 186 cm of pure mischief. He quirked a brow at you, hands on his hips as he loomed over Wonbin, who was still lying in the sand.

You rolled your eyes, sticking out your tongue. "Just watching you and Wonbin act like five-year-olds," you scoffed before letting yourself sink back into the water. The cool waves swirled around you, but they did little to calm the heat spreading through your body.

Your thoughts began to spiral as you felt Wonbin’s eyes burning into you—an unwavering stare he had been giving you all morning, ever since you left the beach house. Was it your swimsuit? You sure hoped so.

You had picked this set with careful intention—a light pink bralette adorned with delicate bows stitched on the straps , the fabric hugging your curves enough that it left most men wanting more . The matching bottoms clung to your thighs, damp and warm from the sun. Absentmindedly, you lifted one leg slightly in the water, the movement slow and deliberate, as if testing him.

When you finally glanced back at Wonbin, his tongue darted out to wet his lips, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. His gaze flickered from your leg to your face, then back again, dark with something unreadable yet electrifying.

As you made eye contact , heat spread through your cheeks , making you look away softly,Wonbin chuckled as he took in your bashful state, his thoughts practically visible to anyone who wasn’t your oblivious big brother who was now trying to push wonbin into the crystal ocean.

“Wait..ugh i forgot my board”sungchan mumbled,making you perk up

“Ill get them, i wanted to get some snacks anyways” you said ,cheeks sticking out from the empty stomach you had since the morning.sungchan looked at you with a giddy smile 

“REALLY? Thanks sis!” he bellowed loud enough to make wonbin wince before his eyes darted to me .

“I can come with to help you carry everything”he said making your eyes widen as you took in his suggestion. However just as wonbin uttered those words, the idiot you call your brother began to shout in protest spouting random sentences about how you could handle it and how he didnt want to be left alone.

“..I can do-” “no. its fine ill come with” he interrupted making you form a small smile on your face at his words as you nodded.

You shook your head at Sungchan’s dramatic whining, but before he could throw an even bigger fit, you turned on your heel, making your way toward the beach house. The hot sand tickled your feet as you walked, and you could hear Wonbin’s footsteps falling in line behind you.

The moment you were out of Sungchan’s earshot, Wonbin let out a low chuckle. "You know, you’re really cute when you get all flustered," he mused, his voice teasing yet laced with something deeper, something that made your stomach twist.

You scoffed, though your cheeks burned at his words. "I wasn’t flustered."

Wonbin hummed, clearly unconvinced. "Right."

The path to the beach house was quiet aside from the distant sound of waves crashing and the occasional seagull squawking overhead. The further you walked, the more you became aware of Wonbin’s presence—of how his arm brushed against yours, of the way his gaze lingered just a second too long whenever you looked at him.

By the time you reached the wooden steps of the house, your heartbeat was hammering against your ribs. You pushed open the door and stepped inside, the cool air instantly kissing your warm skin. The surfboards were propped neatly against the far wall, but you ignored them for a moment, heading straight for the kitchen.

You opened the fridge, scanning the shelves for something quick to grab. Wonbin leaned against the counter, watching you with an unreadable expression. His damp hair was still slightly tousled, his skin glowing under the soft lighting of the house.

"You’ve been staring all morning," you murmured, breaking the silence.

Wonbin smirked. " can you blame me?"

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling very aware of just how little space was left between you two. The air shifted, thick with unspoken tension.

His fingers brushed against yours as he reached past you, plucking a cold bottle of water from the fridge. The contact sent a jolt up your spine. You turned to face him, only to find that he had already closed the distance between you.

His voice was lower now, teasing yet firm as his fingers hover over my bare thighs . "I might just have to do something about it."

Your breath hitched. The way he was looking at you—dark, intense, filled with something unspoken—made your knees feel weak.

"Then do something," you challenged softly.

Wonbin exhaled sharply, his smirk faltering for just a second before something more serious took over. He leaned in, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, smell the faint scent of saltwater clinging to him.

But before anything could happen, the front door burst open.

“Wonbin, y/n ! Where’s my board? What’s taking so—” Sungchan’s voice rang through the house, and you practically jumped a foot away from Wonbin.

Wonbin groaned, rubbing his temple as if physically pained by the interruption. You, on the other hand, felt your face burning as you whirled around to grab the surfboard, holding it out like a shield.

"Here! Take it!" you snapped, flustered beyond belief.

Sungchan blinked, completely oblivious. "Uh… okay?" He grabbed the board, giving you a weird look before turning back to the door. "Hurry up! The waves are gonna be sick in like, ten minutes!"

The second he left, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Wonbin, however,  stood , shaking his head.

"Sungchan  has the worst timing," he muttered.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. "Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get back before he starts yelling again."

But as you turned to leave, Wonbin caught your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. You glanced up, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, the playful smirk was gone—replaced with something softer, something more genuine.

"This isn’t over," he murmured.

A shiver ran down your spine, but before you could respond, he let go, grabbing a bag of snacks and heading toward the door.

Soon as the sun began to merge with the moon , you three decided to go back, the day taking a toll on your bodies and leaving you guys with weariness embedded in your bones.

Your bed was all you could think about as you sat on it drying your hair after taking a shower, the water particles still dripping from your locks.sungchan and wonbin should’ve been asleep by now, so you had to be quiet not to make too much of a ruckus.

Knock.knock.knock. They startled you , causing you to nearly drop the heavy dryer from your hand making you wince .

“Come in”you mumbled , slightly annoyed as you began to detangle the wet curls.

“Hi” “oh” it was wonbin, his shoulder length hair slightly disheveled and wet, letting you know he just took a shower as well. Your cheeks were dusted with a rosy tint as you saw how well his grey sweatpants and t-shirt clung to his body. Specifically the sweatpants.

“Did you..did you need anything”you ask, turning away from him to put the dryer away, not noticing his trek towards you , right next to your ear as he whispers.

“Yeah, you” his whisper causes  chills to run down your body as you turn to him slowly, one hand in his chest 

“W-what?…” as you began to question his motives he closed the distance between your lips.Your mouth molded into one as you melted into the kiss, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. Your breath hitched as his lips moved against yours, slow and deliberate, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, trying to steady yourself, but the warmth of his body and the intensity of the kiss made it impossible to think clearly. His grip tightened, one hand sliding up your back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His dark eyes bore into yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite place—something dangerous, something thrilling.

“Need these off” he whispers as he begins to tug at your shorts”and these” he says with his other hand groping your breast eliciting a moan as you nod at his words already in a hazy mind.

“Pl-please”you whine as he successfully tugs of your shirts, his hands next focusing on your panties

“Cute, my melody”he smirks patting your covered core as you blush even more crimson.

”lemme”he sticks his tongue out abit as he pulls them down before rubbing your pussy slowly causing a groan to fall from your lips

“Ah…ugh …” your whines come out soft and like honey to his ears as your juices start to coat his fingers.

“Already so wet baby..fuck” he lets out as he begins to put in a finger. As he does this more gasps and whines that mush into one come out from your mouth.He pumps in his digit before pumping it out and pumping it back in once again.he does this once, twice, thrice and by the fourth time, the pace of his fingers going in and out have you quivering.

“Fuck baby…so tight and these …oh god these are just my fingers”he stares at you in awe as you nod, not really hearing  his words.

“Fu-fuck b-binnie …mhmm ugh!”

 “Shh quiet , your brother is right down the hallway”

As he said this you felt yourself get closer.so close , so close to the high you knew he could give you.

Another one in.Another one out .The squelching sounds of skin on skin were heard as you finally felt your head tilt back , eyes rolling back as a gush of white cum flowed out you onto his fingers.stars.no you saw more than stars, you could see each particle all the way to jupiter as you felt his fingers finally pull out of your cunt.

“Yum… baby”he whispered as he brought  his fingers closer to his lips, licking them as if tasting a sweet dessert given to him after a long period of starvation.

As you look at him you feel yourself grow wt again, the fact he was fully clothed while you were there shorts down and panties nealy ripped stirred the gush within your core once again.his bulge was evident as well, and your staring must have been seen by him as he hooks his sticky finger under your chin while putting another one in your mouth, making you gag slowly as he laps your mouth with his long digits.

“Yeah … sweet girl shit, you like that right…fuck need to be in you”his voice makes you slightly trembles as you tig at his pants , making him spill out another string if curses.

“Fuck yeah..”he moans as he pushes his own sweatpants and boxers down, his hard length sticking against his stomach.you couldnt help but stare at his cock. It was a light pink at the top and curved a little upwards.it was long and girthy and nearly made your mouth water as wonbin pulled you by your waist, his actions were quick as he aligned his cock with your entrances before slowly pushing it in.You both gasped at the same time at the sensation.You let out a whine as he guided himself deeper and deeper within you 

“Ugh..ngh..mmh agh!”you nearly scream as he covers your mouth while bottoming inside you .

“Quiet, fuck you’ll m-make us g-get caught”he stammers as he roamed his  hands over  your body, unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the floor.your  breasts spilled out, nipples already hard and begging for his touch.

He took one in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, eliciting a gasp from you as he plunged in and out of your pussy, your muffled moans begging to be heard by nearly everything and everyone . His teeth grazed your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.your bodies moved in a rhythm driven by  a primal urge to fuck The sound of your flesh slapping together filled the air, a delicious symphony of desire that seemed to amplify the pleasure.

Your  second orgasm began to  build , a tight coil deep within h, threatening to unravel at any moment. you could feel  wonbin’s  own climax approaching, his breathing growing ragged, his hips pistoning into you with increasing urgency.

"Oh, fuck," she moaned, your  nails digging into the his arms  as your  legs trembled with the effort to stay standing.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

The dam  finally broke  your orgasm crashed over like the waves that splashed around you in the morning sun , your body convulsing as he pulled out from  you , and released   a hot sticky load. 

Your breaths lingered through the air as he took you in his arms, wrapping them around your waist as he pressed a kiss on your temple , making you giggle.

“You know i don’t want this to be a one time thing inly right“

“I know”you smiled as you peppered his face with light kisses inly to be stopped by a knock.

“PARK WONBIN I SWEAR TO GOD IF TOU DONT GET THE FUCK OUT OF HER ROOM RIGHT NOW!”

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

[stinkysam]

Roronoa Zoro - Dinner.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “a male siren reader. Reader follows the straw hats ship around singing making zoro fall asleep more then usual, the siren sneaks onto the ship while zoro is asleep and leans in about to eat him but zoro ofc wakes up and thinks the siren is trynna kiss him he’s flustered but not complaining cus the male siren is gorgeous and you can take it from there.” - anon

Reader : male (he/you)

A/N : Part TWO

Water was dripping down your body when you sneaked into the ship, quietly approaching the green haired man. You noticed his three swords and delicately pulled them off of him before putting them aside. Now, he was truly at your mercy. He'd only have his voice to scream as you'd rip his flesh out.

You opened your mouth, licking your sharp teeth, you could already imagine the pungent taste of his flesh on your tongue with his strong blood gushing everywhere and into your mouth. You grabbed his face to push his head to the side, too entranced by the smell of your dinner to notice his eyes fluttering open.

Zoro froze, you were too close, your proximity taking him off guard along with your beauty and the intensity in your eyes. What the fuck ? Who is he ? What the fuck !?

You could hear his heart racing, beating loudly in his chest, alerting you. You pulled back a bit in surprise and saw him stare at you, face red.

Your eyes widened. Fuck. He wasn't supposed to wake up. You should've sang longer, but you had been too eager to taste him and rushed things.

Finally, he tried to grab one of his swords to push you away, but in vain, none of them were nowhere near him. You pulled away, your hand leaving a wet mark in his cheeks, and quickly ran off.

“Wait !” He called, rapidly standing on his feet, but you jumped off the deck and back into the water, disappearing out of his sight. He went where you jumped, looking to see if you were still here, but only the reflection of the moon could be seen in the dark sea.

Zoro waited, staring into the water in case you'd come out again. What the fuck happened ? Did someone just try to kiss him ? His mind was racing, and his lips felt like they were burning as if you had touched them. He touched them with the tip of his fingers, thinking.

The morning slowly came, and Zoro hadn't slept since what happened, too preoccupied by the pretty stranger who tried to kiss him.

It took a few hours for the others to notice, finding Zoro too in his thoughts to insult Sanji properly.

“Do you think he's okay ?” Whispered Nami to Usopp, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

“I don't know…” He whispered back. “Hey, Zoro ! Sanji thinks your swords are useless !”

“Oi, what was that for !?” Exclaimed Sanji, turning to Usopp with a frown, letting go of the plate he was cleaning.

But Zoro barely reacted. He should've drawn his swords out, ready to throw himself at Sanji and fight like usual, but nothing. A simple “He's the useless one.” and that's it.

Usopp, Nami and Sanji looked at each other, confused. This was weird.

“Hey, what's wrong with you ?” Nami asked, it was the first time she saw him like that, even if it's been only a week they've known each other. “Did something happen while you were on watch duty ?”

But Zoro said nothing, instead leaving the kitchen. There was no way in hell he'd talk about what almost happened last night.

You, nearly kissing him.

He stood next to Luffy, who was fishing, and he stupidly hoped his small hook would catch your eyes and you'd come back, hoping to fish you out.

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

Delicate Part VI

sirius black x reader - delicate part vi

word count: 2k

link to part vii

summary: this is part vi of a sirius black x ravenclaw!reader series. a slow burn romance with platonic remus x reader and maybe some flirtatious remus x reader if you squint a lot lol

warnings: y/n is from ravenclaw (not sure if that’s even a needed warning) so sorry if that’s not your house, allusion to divorced parents

a/n: so it was a struggle to include peter bc for some reason he doesn’t exist in my mind… also while editing i realized that y/n and remus might come off a little too flirty but i PROMISE it isn’t leading to an awkward jealous sirius that thinks they’re dating!!!! anyways have a lovely day and happy thanksgiving to any and all who celebrate <33

The wind bit at y/n’s cheeks as she walked beside Remus, their footsteps crunching softly in the thin layer of snow that blanketed the Hogwarts grounds. The winter chill had settled in, the sun already dipping below the horizon despite the early hour. Y/n pulled her cloak tighter around herself, glancing at Remus, who seemed unaffected by the cold.

     “You’re seriously not going home for Christmas?” Remus asked, his breath visible in the icy air. His tone was casual, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes.

     Y/n shrugged, looking out at the frozen Black Lake. “No point, really. My mom’s on some cruise she booked months ago, and my dad’s spending the holiday with my brother and his family.” She paused, her voice growing quieter. “It’s fine. They don’t expect me to come home.”

     Remus frowned, slowing his pace to match hers. “That doesn’t sound fine,” he said gently. “You’re not just going to stay here, are you?”

     “That’s the plan.” Y/n forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s not so bad. The castle’s quiet, and I’ll have plenty of time to study.”

     Remus snorted. “You and your studying. You’ll drive yourself mad with all that quiet.”

     Y/n rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a genuine smile this time. “I’ll survive. It’s only a couple of weeks.”

     They walked in silence for a moment, the snow crunching beneath their boots. Then Remus stopped abruptly, turning to face her.

     “Come to the Potters’ with me,” he said. The words were straightforward, as if the solution was obvious. “James and his parents always invite me for the holidays. You’d be welcome there.”

     Y/n hesitated, her breath hitching in her throat. “Remus, I can’t just show up at someone else’s house for Christmas. That’s—”

     “That’s what friends do,” Remus interrupted, his tone firm but kind. “They make sure you’re not alone. And trust me, Mrs. Potter would love having another guest. She spoils everyone rotten. You wouldn’t be intruding.”

     “I don’t know…” Y/n trailed off, glancing down at her boots. “I’d feel out of place. It’s your time with them. I don’t want to—”

     “You wouldn’t be out of place,” Remus said softly. “And you wouldn’t be intruding.”

     Before y/n could respond, the sound of footsteps approached from behind. Turning, she saw James Potter striding toward them, his scarf flapping in the wind. Sirius followed closely behind, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat.

     “Oi! What are you two doing out here?” James called, his grin as bright as ever. His hazel eyes darted between them. “Bit cold for a stroll, isn’t it?”

     “Just talking,” Remus replied, stepping aside to let James join them.

     “Talking about what?” James asked, eyeing them both curiously.

     Remus glanced at y/n, who shifted uncomfortably under James’s gaze. Finally, Remus answered, his voice steady. “About Christmas. Y/n’s staying at Hogwarts this year.”

     “What?” James’s grin faltered, replaced by a look of genuine concern. “Why? Don’t you have family to go to?”

     Y/n hesitated, glancing at Remus before answering. “Not really. My mom’s traveling, and my dad has other plans. It’s no big deal. I’ll be fine here.”

      “No, you won’t,” James said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re coming to my house.”

     “James, really, I—”

     “Lily will be there too,” James interrupted, his grin returning. “She’s staying for the holidays. You’ll have plenty of company. And my mum will stuff you so full of food you won’t know what to do with yourself.”

     Y/n opened her mouth to protest, but James wasn’t finished.

     “I’m not taking no for an answer,” he added, his tone light but insistent. “Remus is right—you can’t spend Christmas alone. And trust me, my mum would love you. She’ll probably knit you a jumper by the time you walk through the door.”

     Y/n glanced at Sirius, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. His grey eyes flicked to hers for the briefest moment before darting away again, his expression unreadable. The silence between them was heavy, the tension palpable.

     “I don’t want to be a bother,” y/n said finally, her voice softer now.

     “You won’t be,” James said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, I insist. Right, Sirius?”

     Sirius, who had been staring off toward the lake, seemed to snap back to attention. His gaze lingered on y/n for a moment before he shrugged, his voice unusually subdued. “Yeah. Sure.”

     The awkwardness of his response hung in the air, and y/n felt her cheeks warm despite the cold. She glanced at Remus, who gave her an encouraging nod.

     “Alright,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you’re sure it’s okay… I’ll come.”

     James beamed, his grin as wide as ever. “Brilliant! It’s going to be the best Christmas ever. You’ll see.”

     As the group began to make their way back toward the castle, y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that Sirius’s silence spoke louder than any of James’s cheerful assurances. Whatever it meant, she wasn’t sure she was ready to find out.

━━━━━━━•✧°•°𓅦°•°✧•━━━━━━━

     The train to King’s Cross was alive with the buzz of students, their laughter and conversations spilling out into the corridors. Somehow, James had managed to secure a cabin for all six of them, though it was a tight fit.

     Remus claimed the window seat first, settling in with a book as usual. Y/n slid in beside him, and Peter flopped down next to her, already munching on a chocolate frog he’d dug out of his pocket. On the opposite bench, James and Lily sat close together, their shoulders brushing, while Sirius slouched next to James, his posture lazy but his eyes distant.

     The train jolted as it began to move, and the faint whistle of wind outside sent a chill through the cabin. Y/n tugged her cloak tighter around herself, trying to ward off the lingering cold.

     “You alright?” Remus asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

     “Just a bit cold,” she admitted, tucking her hands into her sleeves.

     Without a word, Remus unwound his scarf from his neck, the soft gray wool slightly frayed at the edges. He leaned over and draped it around her shoulders, adjusting it snugly.

     “Better?” he asked with a small smile.

     Y/n looked up at him, warmth blooming in her chest despite the cold. “Better,” she said softly, her fingers brushing against the scarf.

     Across from them, Lily gave a small smile as she watched the exchange, while James nudged Sirius with his elbow. Sirius barely glanced up, muttering something under his breath before returning his gaze to the window.

     “Cheer up, Pads,” James said, grinning as he leaned back in his seat. “It’s Christmas! You should be in the festive spirit.”

     “I’m fine,” Sirius replied, his tone clipped but not unkind.

     James raised an eyebrow, but Lily quickly distracted him, pointing out the frost-covered fields speeding by outside the window.

     The cabin grew quieter as the journey stretched on, the rhythmic clatter of the train lulling everyone into a peaceful stupor. Remus’s head eventually drooped, resting against the cold glass of the window as his book slipped from his lap onto the seat beside him.

     Y/n leaned back in her seat, the warmth of Remus’s scarf and the steady motion of the train making her eyelids grow heavy. She glanced at Peter, who was now snoring softly with his head tilted back, and then at Remus, whose breathing had evened out in sleep.

     Before she realized it, her head dipped sideways, coming to rest on Remus’s shoulder. He didn’t stir, and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing was comforting, anchoring her in the moment.

     Across from them, Lily and James whispered quietly, their voices blending with the soft hum of the train. Every now and then, James would laugh, the sound muted but warm, while Lily’s quiet giggles filled the space between. Sirius, still slouched in his seat, glanced at the two of them, his eyes lingering on their easy closeness.

     His gaze shifted briefly to Y/n and Remus, and he watched them for a moment—Remus with his head against the window, Y/n leaning against his shoulder, the gray scarf bundled around her. Something flickered in Sirius’s expression, but it was gone before it could be deciphered. He turned back to the window, his reflection blurring with the snowy countryside rushing past.

     The cabin remained peaceful. The occasional murmur of conversation and the soft rustle of movement were the only sounds, making it easy to forget the bustling world outside. As the train sped toward King’s Cross, time seemed to slow, and for just a moment, everything felt still.

     The train’s wheels screeched to a halt at King’s Cross Station, jolting everyone in the cabin awake. Y/n blinked, groggy and disoriented, realizing she was still leaning against Remus’s shoulder. He stirred, rubbing his eyes and offering her a small, sleepy smile before standing and stretching his long limbs.

     “Come on, lazy lot,” James said as he hefted his trunk down from the rack. “We’ve got a Christmas feast waiting for us.”

     The group made their way through the bustling platform, weaving between families reuniting and trunks clattering over the cobblestones. Lily walked with James, their hands brushing but never quite intertwining, while Peter lagged behind, struggling to keep hold of his luggage. Sirius, unusually quiet, helped Remus with his trunk before shouldering his own, his sharp gaze flicking occasionally toward Y/n.

     They stepped out of the station and into the crisp winter air, the faint hum of the city buzzing in the background. The cold bite of the evening settled in, but Y/n barely noticed it as they made their way down the platform toward the waiting trolley.

     James grinned, turning to Y/n with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “All set for the holiday?” he asked, his voice bright, the usual confidence in his tone. His hand rested easily on Lily’s shoulder as she laughed softly beside him.

      “I suppose so,” Y/n replied, glancing at Remus, who was now holding his trunk with a steady hand, his calm demeanor unchanged by the hustle of the station. Sirius, trailing behind them all, seemed quieter than usual, his dark eyes scanning the crowd.

     “I’ll carry yours,” Remus said, nodding toward her trunk before she could reach for it. “You’ve had a long day.”

     Y/n opened her mouth to protest, but Remus was already lifting the heavy trunk without waiting for her response. She sighed but didn’t argue, instead watching as Sirius fell into step beside her. He didn’t say anything, but there was a soft energy in his presence, as if he wasn’t as distant as he appeared.

     The trolley came into view, and the group gathered around, their trunks securely fastened, the noise of the bustling station now fading into the background. As they climbed onto the trolley, Sirius took a seat by the window, leaning back with his arms folded across his chest. He caught Y/n’s eye for a fleeting moment, and though he didn’t smile, the brief connection made her feel slightly more at ease.

     The wheels of the trolley began to turn, pulling them away from the busy platform, and as the train rattled onward, the familiar sounds of conversation and laughter filled the cabin. James and Lily continued to chat animatedly, their voices rising in occasional bursts of laughter, while Remus read quietly, lost in his book.

     Sirius, though still distant, seemed more at ease now. He looked out the window, his gaze steady and contemplative, as the landscape of King’s Cross Station shrank behind them.

     The trolley ride to the Potters’ house felt like a quiet pause in the storm of her own thoughts, and as the glow of the station finally faded from sight, she allowed herself to relax, just for a moment. Christmas was coming, and for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t dreading it.

[reixona]

Yuu's Daily Life: A Mishap with the 2 of Spades

Third and last update to the series for the Week!!!!

It's tiring, but also fun!!

Hope you guys are liking it, if you do, feel free to follow the tag #Yuu's Daily Life

Happy Reading!!! or not

============

In the Night Raven College's potion classroom, the air was thick with the scent of herbs and simmering liquid in the cauldrons.

Shelves lined the walls, stocked with jars of dried ingredients, murky liquids, and suspicious-looking powders.

The atmosphere was tense because potion classes were never easy, and with Crewel watching over them, mistakes were not tolerated.

Yuu adjusted their gloves and let out a sigh, glancing at Deuce, who was carefully measuring out powdered moonstone. His brow was furrowed in concentration, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Alright, Deuce, let's try not to make anything explode today, yeah?" Yuu teased.

Deuce shot them an indignant look. "I don’t always make things explode!"

Yuu raised an eyebrow. "What about last week when you accidentally added too much salamander tail and nearly set the cauldron on fire?"

Deuce's face turned red. "That was…a minor miscalculation. I’ve been practicing, okay?"

Before Yuu could respond, Professor Crewel’s sharp voice cut through the murmurs of the class. "Puppies, today we will be brewing a Mist Draught. It is a delicate potion that requires precision, not brute force. I expect nothing less than perfection."

A collective groan rippled through the class. The Mist Draught was notoriously tricky, requiring the exact timing of ingredient additions and precise temperature control. One mistake, and it could turn into a noxious gas or, worse, an explosive mist.

Crewel snapped his fingers. "Get to work!"

Yuu and Deuce exchanged glances before turning to their cauldron. The recipe on the blackboard listed the steps:

Heat the water to exactly 70°C.

Add three pinches of powdered moonstone, stirring counterclockwise.

Crush and add a single porcupine quill.

Simmer for exactly four minutes, then add 3 drops of hellebore syrup.

Stir twice clockwise, then twice counterclockwise. (this ingredients came from that famous Wizard and Witches Books, iykyk)

Simple enough,

if they didn’t mess up.

Deuce grabbed a thermometer and dipped it into the cauldron. "Seventy degrees celcius, got it!"

"Okay, adding the powdered moonstone now." Yuu said as they added three pinches of a silvery powder to the bubbling water, and then a thin purple mist rose from the potion's surface as it hissed.

Deuce mumbled, "Looks right so far," as he reached for the porcupine quill. "I’ll crush it."

Yuu observed him using a mortar and pestle to carefully grind the quill. Deuce's hands were stable because he was adamant about getting better. A bluish-green glow shimmered in the potion as he dropped the powder into it.

"Nice!" smiled Yuu. "Now we just have to simmer for four minutes—"

They were drawn to a startling noise coming from the nearby table. Together with Grim, Ace had somehow produced a viscous, black muck that was bubbling menacingly.

"Oi, Ace! What did you do?" Deuce called.

Ace held up his hands in mock innocence. "Nothing! I just followed the recipe!"

Grim waved his paws, coughing. "It smells awful! Maybe we added too much porcupine quill??"

Crewel was on them in an instant, pinching the bridge of his nose."This is why I tell you to pay attention. If this explodes, you’re scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the week."

Yuu and Deuce quickly returned their attention to their own potion as the lecturer reprimanded them. The clock was nearly up.

"Alright, stirring time," Yuu said, gripping the ladle.

Deuce nodded. "Two clockwise, then two counterclockwise, right?"

"Yup. Easy."

Or at least, it should have been.

Just as Yuu began to stir, a stray spark of magic from Ace’s bubbling disaster flew across the room and hit their cauldron and a ray of turquoise light flashed from their cauldron.

"Oh no—"

Deuce took Yuu by the arm. "Wait—!"

However, it was too late. With a gentle snap, the potion burst, and then a heavy fog surrounded them both as a thick mist burst from the cauldron.

"Ack! I can’t see anything!!" Yuu coughed.

"Neither can I!" Deuce sputtered. "Is this supposed to happen?!"

Crewel’s voice rang out. "Who was responsible for that mist?!"

Ace immediately pointed at their table. "Them! Definitely them!"

"ACE!" Yuu and Deuce shouted in unison.

Crewel sighed, waving his wand to clear the fog. As the mist dissipated, the classroom came back into view—except something was…off.

Deuce blinked. "Why do you look taller?"

Yuu stared at him. "Why do you look shorter?"

A horrifying realization hit them both at the same time. They scrambled to the nearest reflective surface—Yuu’s polished potion ladle—and gasped.

They had swapped bodies.

Deuce—now in Yuu’s body—stared at his reflection in disbelief. "No way. No. Way."

Yuu—now in Deuce’s body—groaned, rubbing their temples. "I swear, if this is because of Ace’s magic backfire, I am throwing him into a cauldron."

Ace was doubled over laughing. "Oh man, this is gold! Deuce, you look hilarious with Yuu’s scowl!"

Deuce (Yuu?) growled, clenching their fists. "This is not funny, Trappola!"

Crewel massaged his temples, looking utterly done. "You two. Stay behind after class. We need to fix this disaster."

Deuce (Yuu?) sighed. "Great. Just great."

Yuu (Deuce?) groaned. "I knew PE class was the lesser evil…"

[cokou]

Hello can you please give me deflamingo headcanon the scenario would be that y/n came to dressrosa for a new start. She opened her cafe+flower shop and is a regular human living her life. Doffy comes there with his crew and got attracted by her and begins to terrorise her. She doesn't know Doffy is the king of Dressrosa

Thank youuu in advance 🥰

Note ✉* ~ || Definitely! Tysm for requesting this anon! I'm more than happy to give this to you, +headcannons and storyline on the fic! <33 || Do not translate, transfer, or reform, this is my only account (exp. Ao3), will not be cross posted anywhere. || 𖤐٭┆Masterlist

Summary* ~ You were ready for a new, fresh start in Dressrosa, only to be taunted by a certain man. Warning* ~ Stalking* Yanderism* || Genre* ~ SFW-ish

ᴴᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵘˢᶦᶜ, ᵈᵉᵃʳ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ?

Author's note ✉* ~ Hello reader, see the end of the storyline for Doffy's headcannons! Love ya💗

—

You sat on a bench just outside of your newly constructed shop, your first very own shop. You couldn't hold back smiles as you imagine how you would run it, so much ideas struck your mind and you started arranging furnitures one by one inside your little cafe and your flower shop.

Arriving at Dressrosa was exciting, you had picked it specifically to start a new. Then just a few months in, you decided to open your first shop, a cafe and a flower shop. It had always been your dream to have your own shop, and now, you had perfectly fulfilled your dream. With it being colored as your most adored gradient, the designs being carefully and delicately made by your own preference.

Everything was going smooth, opening the shop just after 7 days of preparation, everything was perfect and beautiful. This was definitely going to be such a wonderful start.

The first day, costumers had filled your shop, ranging from 12-30 person the whole day. Everyone had complimented your interiors, your menu's, everything was smooth and on going. The first day wasn't all so bad, the costumers were all kind and even promoted your business to their families. You had earned approximately 12,457 Berries on your first day.

The second day, your business was BLOOMING, ranging from 31-79 person the whole day. Just like the first day, they had complimented the menu, saying that everything was perfect and even gave perfectly rated stars on your ratings, even seeing a cute couple buy from your flower stand. The second day was the best for you, although, some customers were a bit hard to contain, over all, everything was good. You had earned approximately 21,735 Berries on your second day.

The third day, fewer customers had shown up, but still a lot for new starters like you, ranging from 9-28 persons the whole day. It was definitely a different path from day one and two, but everything seemed all fine and all. The third day was an average day at least, the customers who came from day one still served as your early bird customers, being the first one's to arrive shortly after you open up the shop. The flower shop had been sold half of it's contents, good job! You earned approximately 11,622 Berries on the third day.

The fourth day was a lot different, a big pirate crew had shown up in your shop, causing everyone to leave unfinished with their businesses.

"Oi, Woman. Give us the menu." A guy, almost as tall as your shop ordered. He had a pink feather-like coat, his tone was menacing and almost disrespectfully demanding. You hated him already, but he's your customer, so you quickly obeyed and gave them the menu book.

Not even a few minutes in by looking at your menu, they ordered your best selling coffee. You left their table to approach the register, tapping and calculating their total.

"Oi, Woman."

"Sir, i do prefer getting called by my name, (Name)." You spat.

"Hm, no. Come here, we won't bite." He was slowly getting into your nerves, some crewmates of his was already bickering about you, laughing and whispering.

"I'd like to know what you put in this coffee."

"I'm sorry, I won't tell you about that, this is my business, and it serves a part of it."

"Name your price, princess. I don't take no for an answer."

His prideful demeanor was causing you deep in rage inside your mind, casually trying your best to keep it to yourself. You know how badly you wanted to punch this man.

"Sir the ingredients are surely not for sale! So please, if that's all you want, you are free to leave!" The tall man stands up, ordering the crew to do as well. The man slammed the money in the table and began to leave your shop, making you sigh in relief.

"We won't be done so soonly, Princess. I expect you to give in soon. ~"

The door closed loudly and you backhandedly mocked their intentions as you close the shop to take a moment to load all the things that had happen during this day. The Flowers hadn't had a sale, only 23 people came in, what a disaster. You had earned approximately 4,615 Berries on the fourth day.

However, the fifth day was even. worser. The man with a pink feather-like coat came back, with lesser people this time. He didn't let any other person enter your little shop, cauding you to have very little sales. They stayed inside your cafe for the WHOLE day, asking you all types of personal questions uncomfortably.

The man had introduced himself as 'Doflamingo', not even giving a single care in you. All you wished was for them to get the fuck out of your shop, to continue your business like any other person would. But unfortunately, they wouldn't let that happen, they began giving you so much problems just by being around that you were tempted to call security.

After around 4PM, they finally left, you were exhausted and frustrated for earning almost norhing with their asses being on your business. You walk over their table to collect the bill.

. . .

They left 50,000 berries on the table. You had earned exactly 50,000 berries on your fifth day... how strange.

The next following days were hell, your customers had ran away from your business ass the man kept visiting. The flowers were fastly withering, the menu wasn't selling much. But hell, you were earning lots. Even a single 350 berries coffee was payed in large sums of tens of thousands, you weren't complaining.

It was definitely your lucky and unluckiest week ever.

Weeks passed by, the man hadnt been visiting your shop anymore, your customers were slowly coming back, and your flowers weren't withering anymore!

Things were starting to get back onto the normal side, however, you never fail to notice that the shop would get late, late, late night visits outside. Feeling as if there was a presence of someone watching you restock for tomorrow's morning. It left you goosebumps all over your skin as well as shivers on your spine. It was unsettling.

A windy storm was getting closer as the clock reached midnight, the walk towards your home was cold, windy, and you felt that wrongly presence behind you, yet seeing no one as you turn around to peek.

It wasn't to your shock as a newspaper landed on your face after a strong wind blew.

'KING OF DRESSROSA, "DOFLAMINGO" ANNOUNCED A NEW PUBLIC RULE TO ALL CITIZENS! '

"Doflamingo? I swore i heard that name somewhere." Your jaw dropped as a picture of the 'king' was attached on an opinion giving. Holding your mouth to a shock, all this time. All this time, the person who terrorized you in your cafe was, the king of Dressrosa, Donquixote Doflamingo.

—

Author's note ✉* ~ Hello reader, you have successfully reached the end of the storyline! What goes under would be headcannons.

—

• Doffy would regularly send calmly threatening letters on your mailbox at exactly 3am, nonetheless, the letters were personally detailed identifications of you.

• Your cash register was FILLED with money right after you open it first thing in the morning.

• Your regular customer was found dead near a lake that happens to be connected nearby your shop, so that being interrogated by random security and being on a look out.

• You forever felt that unknowingly presence behind your back once you look away.

• Doffy still comes back by himself to order atleast once on your shop, he gives you less headaches from now on and has ordered everything from your menu. (He payed people to bomb vote your shop to 5 stars)

• No matter how cheap his order is, he pays you exactly 50k berries per order he makes, which makes you around 500k berries a month. Yes, you're able to expand your business and all.

• It won't be a surprise to see regular gifts inside your mail or infront of your porch, these items were the ones you usually eye when going to a store.

• It was all strange how almost all the persons you talk to had gone missing right after they walk home, it didn't bother you until 14 of them had gone missing. Maybe you dont need to understand.

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me!

[emeritusemeritus]

hello !! i adore your work, so i was thinking about asking for a rq about the weasley twins x reader (if you don't like fred x reader x george it's totally fine, if that's the case then fred x reader is just as perfect) where they were dating back at hogwarts or at least have a situationship until she twins leave because of umbridge

and mind you, they did invite the reader to come with them, but she refuses because reader needed to end her last school year (due to her ambitions) and didn't want to leave her younger brother alone at hogwarts with umbridge there

so can you write a scenario where, two years later (NO WAR at all 💔) the twins receive a letter from her with tickets for a quidditch game? from a team they like nonetheless. they go to the game and find out that the reader, who was a hufflepuff chaser back at school, now managed to become a professional chaser and invited them to watch her first game?

pretty please! im sorry if this became a huge text lmao once again i adore your work and i hope you have a lovely day 🌷

Chase Me

My dear sweet Anon, I cannot apologise enough for how long this has taken me to complete for you. Life has been crazy and it’s in no way a reflection of your ask because this was super fun to write. I hope I did your idea justice!! 🖤

Warnings: slight past angst, longing, heartbreak. Happy endings. Reader is a hufflepuff- set after Canon. NO WAR. No mention of mouldy voldy or death. Mentions of Umbridge and her nastiness. Not beta read nor spellchecked.

Word count: 2.8k

"Oi Fred! Mail's here!" George shouts up the winding, wooden stairs as he unlatches the window where an owl was not so patiently waiting to drop off the thick letter held tightly in it's beak. George takes the letter from the gorgeous grey owl and pats it once on the head, frowning slightly when it simply flies away without so much as a chirp.

His frown deepens when he looks at the front of the brown envelope, seeing a multitude of stamps he didn't recognise and very neat handwriting that listed both his and Fred's names with delicate precision.

"Bit early for mail isn't it?" Fred says as he walks down the stairs to the main shop, still buttoning up his shirt with the arms rolled up, his untied bow-tie hanging around his neck.

"It wasn't Easy," George mutters, still examining the letter in his hands, trying to decipher the stamps. 'Easy' was their shop owl, an inside joke of sorts as it turned out once he was purchased that he was just as erratic as Errol once was, leading them through both call out 'easy!' Whenever the bird neared any glass panes or ledges, most notably because he never slowed down upon descent. Plus Fred said that Easy Weasley would be a great name for a pet and George had to agree, though he feared it was setting up a lifelong curse upon any animal that they might acquire, knowing Fred would want to keep the theme going. Easy, Peasy, wheezy, Breezy... it probably wouldn't end there.

"What's that?" Fred asks, noticing the brown envelope in his twin's hands, just finishing up his top button.

"Don't know," George says, still examining it.

"That's because you have to open them to read them mate," Fred jokes, but doesn't get the reaction he hoped for, seeing George too transfixed to shoot him the mock-glare he'd anticipated.

"Does this writing look familiar to you?" George hands Fred the envelope but doesn't take his eyes off it.

"A bit," Fred says with a slight squint as he looks at the neat writing on the front, quite liking the way his name was written in the fancy script. Fred bites the bullet and opens the envelope, his eyes drifting quizzically at the unique stamps on the front.

He pulls out the letter first as it fills the top of the envelope, still feeling other things in the bottom that he could get to later. The piece of paper is folded and heavy, so opaque that he can't see any writing through it.

At the top of the letter, even before he can begin to try and pull it open, is a little piece of card paper clipped onto the letter, stating 'To be read by Messers F and G Weasley of 93 Diagon Alley only.'

They cast a quick glance at each other in trepidation at the unusual literature and Fred begins to take off the card attached to the letter.

To his surprise, underneath exactly where the card had been temporarily fixed were the words 'I solemnly swear...'

Fred doesn't hesitate and pulls out his wand, tapping the paper gently and uttering the words he'd not spoken in so long, but remembered with great fondness and complete recollection.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

The paper immediately begins to unseal itself, the paper opening up like a friendly howler and handwritten words begin to fill the lines that have started appearing on the page.

The second Fred sees the opening line, he knows exactly who it's from, as does George.

'To my favourite jokesters'

"Well bloody hell," Fred says, slightly bewildered by the turn of events as he leans back, resting his hips against the counter whilst he gathers himself. In complete honesty, he's fighting back a ball of emotion at the back of his throat as he takes in the words on the page from the one that got away. She'd been everything to him since that first meeting on the train, the little Hufflepuff who gave him a run for his money both on and off the quidditch pitch. He's been convinced she was the one, his endgame, the love of his life- until his twin had piped up about his own feelings for her.

They made it work eventually, found a rhythm that suited them all, through trial and error and everything in between. They found love, the three of them with her being the rose between two thorns, the center of their world.

No one hated Dolores Umbridge more than Fred Weasley, not even Harry, the entire nation of wizards, witches or any of the wronged mythical creatures. The toad faced witch had ruined everything inserting herself into their school and their lives, spoiling the happiest time in his whole life and putting a rather forceful stop on all the plans he'd made. They'd talked about it since their fifth year, when the plans really started to take off. They'd finish school together, find the money to start the shop and they'd all move in together in the little flat above the shop. Eventually he and George would make enough money for a real house, just like she deserved and she'd be free to do anything she wanted to do, anything all all with the constant support of her two loves.

But that didn't happen, not even slightly. Umbridge had made it impossible for them to stay, she'd forced them to leave and though they did it in a spectacular way that would no doubt be the talk of hogwarts for many years following and a person high in Fred's own personal life- it was also one of the saddest times.

His love had stayed at the school, to finish her studies and to protect her little brother Michael who had unfortunately seemed to be under Umbridge's radar, meaning that he was far from safe. She couldn't leave and they couldn't stay. It was heartbreaking to leave her there, to face the few months alone without her. Everything seemed strange between he and George, always knowing that there was something vital missing. But then the weeks bled into months and that eventually turned into over a year as she got a job right after school, taking her away from them this time. They focused on the shop and on their products, keeping themselves busy where they could so that they wouldn't feel that constant void of her presence but late at night it was hard to deny.

George had taken it the worst and being the older brother, Fred had naturally tried to help him the best he could. He'd purposefully give George jobs to do that would require concentration, to set out problems that didn't have an answer, just so he'd forget about her for a while, but it didn't always work. There was a sadness about George that was never there before, always the happier, gentler and more sensitive of the two, these days he was quite often known as the quieter one too. He's happy, of course he is, he's living his dream and they are successful- he still laughs, jokes and pranks just as much as before but there's always just a little piece of him that is gone.

"It's really from her?" George says quietly, his eyes scanning back and forth over the document repeatedly, as if he can't take it in enough. The tone of his voice pulls at Fred's heartstrings, the sadness seeping out once again.

"Looks like it mate," Fred says, trying to remain calm and neutral though his pulse is a stark juxtaposition to his outward demeanour.

"Two tickets for the Sandacre Sirens, how the bloody hell did she get hold of these?" George asks, seeming to come to life once the realisation sinks in of what exactly is in front of him. He lifts the tickets up to his face fit closer inspection, holding them a little too tightly to be casual and inspects the tickets, noticing that they were really good seats- really really good seats. His favourite team too, though admittedly he'd been lax in his support of quidditch lately due to being so busy with the shop, another part of his old self he'd lost.

George had never fretted so much over what to wear. He grew up in a poor family with little resources and even less care of fashion or quality of being presentable. He was the tallest of all the Weasley's, even a little bit over Fred though it was never mentioned, meaning that for as long as he could remember his clothes had never truly fit him, most of them being hand-me-downs from Charlie or Bill (he'd outgrown Percy by his 12th birthday). Now they had money, he and Fred had nice suits for the shop and a selection of better fitting clothes for the rest of the time but he didn't have a single thing that would be good enough for seeing her again. Maybe Fred would know what to wear...

The crowd was booming, nearly every seat in the stadium filled, with loud chanting and joyous singing echoing around the stadium from both teams. The atmosphere was electric and chaotic- just like the twins liked it. She'd been very vague in her instructions of where to meet or how to find each other and so the twins mutually decided to take their seats, hoping to find her there in the neighbouring seat beside theirs. Only, there was no seat beside theirs, or at least it was just the occupier of the seat was certainly not y/n. Their names were written on little magical signs that could not be removed even with magic, scrawled in her own neat handwriting that flew away like a little bird once the twins prepared to take their reserved seats.

More confused than ever, they shared a confused look, near identical in confusion with eyebrows pulled into semi-frowns.

"Messers Weasley? Your refreshments," an usher said from beside them, enchanting a tray to hover in front of their spaces, filled to the brim with all sorts of delicious treats and beverages-  personalised to each twin. Fred couldn't help but kick his lips when his eyes fixed upon the fizzy bottle of dandelion and burdock and George's mouth watered upon seeing the butterbeer tarts stacked up on the tray, knowing they were just for him.

George squints, looking at the note on the tray in her distinctive writing, urging them to check under their seats. He cracks up laughing when he feels exactly what was there, seeing Fred do the same. Under George's seat was a thick knitted scarf with stripes of orange and purple, the colours of the sandacre sirens, as well as a big puffy keyring and a little commercial sized face pint kit. Under Fred's seat, is a matching scarf and face paint kit plus a ridiculously big hat in the same colours.

They know instantly- it’s the exact same thing they wore to the Quidditch World Cup back in 1994, when y/n was with them.

"Excuse me, have you seen y/n?" Fred asks the attendant, trying to call him back as he prepares to walk away. To his confusion, the usher simply stares back at him with equal confusion before letting out a humourless chuckle as he walks away, leaving both of the twins perplexed.

“To your seats, the match will begin in five minutes,” the announcement sounds out loudly, urging all ticket holders to claim their seats. The twins look around in nervous anticipation, excited for the game but more confused than ever when the seats around them fill up, completely ending their hope that she would appear beside them. Why had she invited them?

The other team flew onto the pitch with a roar from one half of the crowd, each player flying through the magically held banner in perfect synchronisation as they played up to the crowd.

“Oi, look!” George says to Fred with a. Less than gentle nudge as he extends his finger, pointing to one of the large screens directly across from them which had a large message printed onto the screen.

“A warm welcome to our new Siren chaser, Y/n L/n!”

Beside it was a photo of her, slightly older than they remembered but still as breathtakingly gorgeous as she stood with a proud smile, clutching her broom and dressed in her chaser finest.

Just then, a huge explosion of fireworks occurred on the pitch and their attention was dragged away from her photo, seeing that all the players had appeared through the residual cloud of smoke. Their eyes searched frantically, almost perfectly in sync as they tried to find the once familiar form of their love.

There she was. She looked majestic, proud and ever so slightly nervous as she beamed at the crowd, graciously accepting their cheers and feeding off their energy. Her eyes searched the crowd secretively but Fred noticed, seeing her gaze flick between the stands.

Their eyes suddenly met, very briefly, and Fred watched in wonder as she momentarily lost her balance upon the broom just for a second as she gazed upon the two brothers who were here just for her. Her smile widened still as she smiled at the two men she had loved so very much and in gaining some form of composure, she fired off a quick, flirtatious wink towards them before zooming off to her starting position followed by the starting whistle. It was then, Fred reached down and with the pride of a dear old friend and lover, placed the comically large hat upon his head and cracked open one of the face paints, drawing a little flag onto George’s cheek, though he hardly noticed, and then got his twin to do the same- he’d learnt how uncomfortable a full face of face paint was from last time and was not making the same mistake.

“Write her name,” Fred urged George, unable to keep the smile off his face.

After that, Fred could feel George’s tension all throughout the match, even without looking at him. If he sat any further forward upon the edge of his seat, he’d surely end up a pile of limbs on the floor, his entire focus solely on her. Fred smirked, seeing her eyes flicker over to them whenever they could, though everyone else would assume she was searching for the quaffle, or an opening to take the shot- but Fred knew better.

She played wondrously, an undoubted success in her first game with the Siren’s- cementing her newfound reputation of excellence in the quidditch community. Ten points here, ten points there and they were quickly adding up, creating a smooth win over the other team. She was quick, swift and agile, her flying skills incomparable as she made it look effortless- like a form of graceful dance. It was enchanting to watch her, entrancing almost.

Fred almost leapt out of his seat when an advancing bludger almost caught the tail of her broom and whether it was his inner beater or his inner boyfriend, he instinctively almost reached out to bat it away, just as he had done so many times before. She avoided it, just, and had firm words with the beater flying above her who had done very little to protect her as she nearly did a haversacking foul, just to avoid the rogue bludger.

Finally, when neither Fred nor George could wait for the game to be over just so they could see you, the final buzzer rang, the lights in the stadium turning orange and purple to denote the overwhelming win to the Sirens. The roar of the crowd was near deafening as more fireworks erupted around the players who were cheering, crying and hugging midair. George and Fred were instantly on their feet, trying to cheer louder than anyone else in the stadium just so she’d hear, their long arms rising up and proudly holding their scarves above their head. It had been a magical night for Quidditch, and even more so for the Siren’s new chaser. The little hufflepuff chaser turned professional right before their eyes.

It was then, watching her turn directly to the two twins mid-celebration and seeing her smile brighten even further that Fred knew he wouldn’t let this night end with them parting once again. He turned to George, seeing him just as enraptured as he himself felt, and knew he didn’t need to ask if Georgie felt the same way.

Never again would they let her get away.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Home

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Rating: General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, Mutual Pining

Category:F/M

Fandom:

Relationships:!idol Woozi x !f plus-size baker Reader

Summary: You're the embodiment of home to the grumpiest man you know, but why?

Trope: hates everyone but you

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Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the seventh installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

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It's funny how love finds its way into the most unexpected corners of our lives, like flour dust settling into every crease on a well-loved baking sheet.

Take Woozi, for example. Known for his grumpy demeanor and an attitude that screams "leave me alone," especially when he's in the zone creating music. He’s not someone you'd think would charm many hearts, especially not someone like me, a plus-size girl who loves the warmth of an oven and the sight of a perfectly risen cake. But for some reason, he'd always hated everyone—except me.

From the first time we met, I sensed a different kind of vibe from him. As if behind those narrow, focused eyes, behind the slightly upturned lips that hardly ever smile, there was something just for me. Of course, I'd never admit that out loud. What if I was wrong? What if those stolen glances and the occasional shared joke were just figments of my hopeful imagination?

But today was different. Today, I was going to test this theory. Today, I invited Woozi over to bake with me.

The doorbell rings, cutting through the sweet aroma of vanilla and cinnamon already filling my kitchen. I wipe my hands on my apron, a silly one with a cartoon cat saying, "Bake the world a better place," and answer the door. There he stands, looking unusually casual in jeans and a hoodie, balancing a box of strawberries and a quart of cream in the crook of his elbow.

"Hey, you managed to survive my complicated directions," I tease, stepping aside to let him in.

"I have a GPS, Y/N. It's not 1970," he retorts with a small, almost imperceptible smirk. It's moments like these that fuel my suspicion that beneath that tough exterior, there lies a heart that beats just a bit faster for me.

We find ourselves in my cozy kitchen, the counter already laden with ingredients and bowls. It’s a modest space, but it’s the heart of my home, adorned with hanging copper pots, whimsical mugs, and a couple of photos pinned to a corkboard.

"So, what's the plan, Master Baker?" Woozi asks, placing the strawberries and cream next to the other ingredients.

"You, my dear sous-chef, are going to help me make strawberry shortcake," I say, handing him an apron that reads, "Mr. Good Lookin' is Cookin'."

"Seriously?" He snorts, holding the apron at arm's length. "You're ridiculous, Y/N."

"But you love it," I challenge, raising an eyebrow. To my surprise, he ties the apron around his waist without another word.

We start mixing the ingredients, working a studio," I say, as I knead the dough.

"I can bake, I just choose not to," he replies, focused on slicing the strawberries. His fingers work deftly, and I can’t help but admire their grace. "Why do you think I agreed to come here?"

"Because I'm amazing company and you were dying to spend some quality time with me," I joke, though I hope some part of it rings true.

"Ha, you wish gum drop. I just had today off." He said with a wink before shaking his head. "No I actually wanting to hang out wthyou seriously, and free food." He says with the most sincere tone in his voice.

It’s not long before the conversation mellows into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the clink of bowls, the hum of the refrigerator, and the occasional bubbling laugh when flour puffs out too forcefully from the bag.

As we're readying the dough for the oven, I find my eyes wandering over to him more than I intend. There's a delicate smudge of flour adorning his cheek, and I can't resist.

"Hey, Jihoon," I call out, a devilish grin playing on my lips. As he turns, I swipe a fingerful of flour across his nose.

He freezes, blinking rapidly before staring down at me, speechless. I burst into laughter, but it’s short-lived as he dips his own fingers into the flour bag.

"Oh, it's on," he declares, before flicking a generous pinch of flour back at me. It catches in my hair and eyelashes, sending me into another fit of giggles.

We’re immersed in a full-blown flour fight within seconds, laughter echoing off the kitchen walls. He’s surprisingly quick, dodging and weaving with the agility of someone much nimbler. But I hold my own, scattering handfuls of flour at him, my cheeks burning from too much laughter.

Our cat-and-mouse game eventually leads to us standing face-to-face, breathing heavily, both coated in a fine layer of white. His eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen, a hint of playful mischief lingering in those normally serious depths.

"Truce?" I whisper, holding up my hands.

"Truce," he nods, but neither of us moves away. Instead, he reaches up, his thumb gently brushing flour off my cheek. The touch, though small, sends an electric shock straight to my heart.

"There's something I’ve wanted to ask you," he says softly, his thumb lingering on my skin.

My heart skips. "What’s that?"

"Why is it," he begins, his voice barely a murmur, "that out of all the annoying people in the world, I don’t hate you, hmm?"

I laugh softly, though the weight of his words trembles through me. "Maybe because I'm not annoying?"

"No," he shakes his head, taking a step closer. "It's because you’re the only one who makes me feel... home. Like this kitchen. Warm, inviting, and...not alone."

My breath hitches at his confession, my own feelings bubbling to the surface. "Jihoon... you too. You’re the only one I feel genuinely comfortable with."

For a moment, time suspends itself, the only witnesses to our silent heartbeats being the butter-drenched dough and sliced strawberries waiting nearby.

Then, as if connecting the dots of a long-unread map, Woozi leans in, his lips brushing mine softly. It’s brief, almost hesitant, but it speaks volumes of unspoken emotions. When he pulls away, his eyes search mine for any sign of regret, but all he finds is a reflection of his own longing.

"Thanks for the flour fight," he gently pulls away resting his forehead against mine and whispers, a genuine smile breaking his usually stoic face. "And the baking."

"Anytime," I reply, my heart glowing brighter than the kitchen lights. "Welcome home, Woozi."

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

Dividers : by ioveartfilm

[vumming]

all of us are dead — jang woo-jin “barriers”

contents : cringe, cliché(?)

a/n: requested by, anon [ hello can i req a jealous jang woojin x reader 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 ty ] HAH THIS HAS BEEN IN THE DRAFTS I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG LOL

“Hey. Who was that?”

He tries to act cool, walking beside you as he looks at the direction of the guy who tried to act familiar with you—his words, not mine. Eyeing the boy like a predator despite him already walking away.

You scoffed, brushing off his arms that lays on your shoulder with a teasing tone, “and why do you care?”

“I asked first.”

“And I asked second.”

“I'm still first.” There is a cheeky grin on his face but it didn't reached his eyes, a hurtful look then flickered for a minute before they disappear like a flicker of a light. Woo-jin took a step forward with a smug grin present on his face that makes you have the drive to somehow—crush that smirk off.

Raising a brow at his somewhat interest, you answered with a huff. “It was just someone from the other class.”

“Why did he approached you then?” Woo-jin bites back the words that should've followed, watching as you blinked at him owlishly, what does he want with you? surely he didn't confessed, right? He sees you cross your arms over your chest, cocking your head to the side with a slight grin.

Oh no-

“He just asked for my helped for the upcoming class collaboration.”

Oh.

Woo-jin blinked.

He felt so stupid assuming things but how can he help it? You're likeable—especially in his eyes so how can he not like you? Woo-jin blinks, staring at the place that the boy went out before glancing back at you. There's something soft with how his smile turned softer.

It is unlike the ones he would shoot you, that boyish grin of his that looks stupid.

Now he looks more stupid.

And yet, that made your heart skip a beat at the sight only for you to internally beat yourself up for thinking such things.

"Why.. why the hell do you look relieved?" Came out of your mouth, straightforward and blunt, a tone of confusion seeping in as you can't help but think. Why?

Woo-jin spluttered a cough at your words, hitting his chest in repeat as he choked in his own spit. "M-me?! Relieved?" His eyes were blown wide akin to saucers.

"It's not that..!" He defended himself, "I was just wondering if you're really that reliable for him to pick you to help him." And like a child, he took out his tongue while pulling his eyelid which is a kid's universal sign of disrespect.

"Why you!" You gasped at his childish behavior, reaching to pinch him only for his swift lithe hands to capture your own.

"Nuh-uh!" "Oi, let go! You stupid—"

"Who are you calling stupid?" He retorts, taking both of your wrists as he dodges your pinches. "You! You son of a—!" When you couldn't hit him, you settled for hitting him by the shin with your feet, raising it to kick him playfully.

There's laughter all around as the two of you pick on each other, a usual occurrence in your friendship that the both of you had come and learnt to love and do. The playful quarrel and mischievous shenanigans that the both of you act.

It's pleasant.

But why does his eyes twinkle so much with affection as he looks at you, despite those boyish grin of his, the crinkles on his eyes softens every now and then.

Your foot hits his knee as he hissed, letting out a small pained cry as he crumbles to the ground like a kid deprived of cookies from the jar. "Gah!"

"Damn you hit me too hard.." He murmured, head bowed as he clutched his knee. You follow, frantic and panicking, his hold on one of your wrists still firm but tender. It's like he doesn't want to hurt you.

Hands not knowing what to do as you watch him, "It- Wait I didn't mean to do it that harsh!" You try to defend yourself, kneeling before him as you reach for his knee delicately, afraid that you'll hurt him further.

"Kidding!" Woo-jin exclaimed, craning his neck to look at you only to freeze.

The proximity is too close.

One move could make the two of you..

One.

His eyes that's trained on yours, unblinking, briefly glanced at your lips. You could see how his adam apple bob, like there is something stuck inside his throat. But you aren't fairing any better with how your whole body freeze.

Two.

"You.." his lips move, the voice barely audible if not for the closeness that you both share.

"Why won't you pull away..?" He whispers, still watching you.

The two of you were stuck in the moment, time seemingly freezing in place like how the two of you are focused towards each other. "Well, why aren't you..?" You turned his question back on him.

For there is no way that you'll be able to answer that. Not without spilling the thoughts you've always had inside your head. One that can ruin what the both of you share, this friendship that both of you are content with.

But is he truly?

Three.

He sighs through his nose, eyes still on you as his fingers that's holding you, twitch. "Because.."

Without warning, he gathers his thoughts and faces reality, taking the opportunity he was blessed with. Hand pulling you down to press your lips against his.

Soft.

Woo-jin's lips are chapped, yet the softness of it overwhelms you.

The way his other arm snakes to pull you by the back of your neck, the desperate feelings he has for you leaks from his actions.

Was this how kiss always felt? You don't know, but the chemistry doesn't fail.

And before you knew it, it was over.

"I don't want you being with him. Even if it's helping him." He murmurs, not pulling away completely. His forehead pressed against yours oh so sweetly. Beneath those eyes were intensity, the genuine and raw emotion came spilling out as soon as he built up his confidence.

"I don't like it."

Woo-jin.. just ruined the barriers that bounds you two as friends.

[disfrutalakia]

Alright, yeah, I needed to write this or I would go insane, so here. Fit undoing Pac's corset for gay reasons under the cut

Ok maybe it wasn’t his best idea ever to wear a corset under his armor for a fight, sure it was usually pretty comfortable and he liked wearing it around but he didn’t thought of how painful it would be to take a corset out while his arms were wounded from the fight. A part of him almost wanted to go to sleep like that, his eyes heavy and tired, but Pac knew better than anyone how uncomfortable that would be, so he turned around to look at his teammates, well they weren’t officially his teammates he hadn’t joined any faction yet, not officially, but had been hanging around Bad and Bagi for the day and because of that ended up fighting alongside them against the kingdom of fools.

Bagi was passed out on one of their beds, Pangi was keeping guard outside and Bad… well he didn’t know where he was, he had a tendency to disappear into the shadows. So there was nobody around who he could ask for help with the corset.

“Hey you can’t get in there!” came Pangi’s voice from the top of the stairs, Pac wondered if something bad was happening, were they being attacked? Wasn’t the kingdom tired of attacking those who had so little power?

“I’m here to see someone.” Came a voice that Pac knew well, it was Fit, with his low voice that made Pac’s heart skip a beat, it was kind of embarrassing.

“If I let you pass can you promise me that you won’t try to kill anyone?”

“Yes.” The answer was short and to the point, usually Pac would never believe that Fit would try hurting him, but well, they weren’t on the same side anymore in theory.

Fit came down the stairs, looking around the “room” (if you could even call a hole in the ground a room) his eyes quickly settled on Pac, he didn’t feel in danger.

“Oi Pac.” He couldn’t help but smile at the simple gesture of Fit greeting him in portuguese.

“Hey.” His voice was weak, he was tired and growing annoyed at his corset.

“Are you okay? I mean did anyone hurt you earlier?”

“I’m fine, really.” Fit didn’t need to know about his bruised arms.

“You don’t look fine.” His cheeks grew lightly red, like he was flustered by his own words “I mean, not that you look ugly or anything I just mean, you look tired.”

“Well yeah, getting beat up will do that.”

Pac didn’t want to sound annoyed really, he liked having Fit there, it was nice having someone worry about him, but god he was so tired.

“Sorry, I… I didn���t mean to snap, just, I hurt my arms earlier and I can’t get my corset out and it’s annoying me.”

Fit stayed in silence for a few seconds, trying to take in the words, he wasn’t expecting that Pac went to a fight in a corset.

“Do you… I can help with that, if you want”

Pac almost wanted to laugh at Fit’s red cheeks “I mean, if I’m not taking up much of your time, I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

“Nothing that important.”

It was Pac’s turn to grow slightly warm, his cheeks didn’t get red, but it was a nice feeling to be important for someone.

Pac turned around, his armor was already off so all that was left was his usual clothes “Alright go ahead.”

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t for Fit to hold the laces in an almost delicate way, Pac bit his lower lip not wanting to make a single sound as Fit worked on the tight laces. He could feel the corset getting less tight, it was almost a relief to be free of that weight.

Fit hands were trembling a little, he could feel it as they brushed against the thin fabric of his shirt, Pac wondered if it was from the situation or if Fit always had shaky hands.

Finally he was free from the corset, which was now on the floor, he let out a breath “Thank you.”

He turned back around to look at Fit, who was looking at Pac, his eyes almost scanning his body.

“Yeah, no problem.”

[random-thoughts4u]

Meeting Kazuha for the first time.

I wanted to write something small, so here it is! There needs to be more Kazuha content online, so I'm adding to it c:

Not proofread!! Just mild cuteness.

The rain scattered across the ships deck, pelting the crew with its blistering cold as Beidou's commands echo across the seas. The storm came quicker than anticipated all due to the sudden change in the air current.

Captain Beidou expertly grips the ropes connecting the sails to pull them shut before they tore from the sudden gusts of wind. The harsh thrashing of what some would call a curse from Barbatos shook the vessel carrying the crew to new lands.

You on the other hand, hidden away from the storms harshness, rested calmly in your room. The day had been long and hard, moving heavy boxes and materials from your recent mission across the heated deck in the scorching sun was no small feat. Over fifty boxes of solid materials from the mines really put a strain on you. Luckily you had a helping hand.

-----

The red sun burned over your figure, reminding you that it would forever shower you in its blesses heat as you struggled to hold up the large box. Your weak fingers tremble as they threaten to release the heavy box with every step. Groaning to yourself you try to focus on keeping what little strength you had in your fingertips from failing you all while sweat pooled along your brow.

As you were about to drop the box in defeat the weight was suddenly cut in half. Peering over the wooden crate you notice a silver haired man standing directly in front of the crate. His hands wrapped firmly around the base of the box as he guilds it back into your hands to fit more comfortably.

"OH, thank you!" Bringing the box to sit atop the rest, you dusted your hands off, fully granting him your attention. He stood slightly taller than you, with a smile as radient as the sun above. Bright ruby orbs crinkle with the push of his milky cheeks as he shot you a delicate smile. Beautifully full silver bangs framed his face perfectly, while a striking red streak stood out along the right side of his head. Holy shit he was cute.

"It's no problem. I saw you struggling and couldn't stop myself from stepping in. I'm Kaedehara Kazuha. It's a pleasure to meet you." Tilting his head down in a polite bow, you watch as his hair falls over those scarlet eyes that had your mind in a bind.

"I'm y/n. Please I insist, the pleasure is all mine." Glancing up at you through his lashes his smile only grows before he stands tall once again. A look of proud etched into his face as he scanned the ship.

"It's amazing how well this ship flows. It reminds me of a babbling river, always moving and paving it's own way."

That was actually beautifully said. He was right. The ship was always working.

"I'd say like a handmade clock. It's inner mechanics, the crew, along with the strict schedule it has to keep helps it remain punctual. Your vision is much more beautiful if I can say."

He looked a bit taken aback by your words, as if he was speculating something for but a moment. "Hmm. Interesting way of seeing it. I do agree."

"OI!! You two gonna yap all day or are you gonna help up with the last shipment? We're heading out in ten minutes."

Beidous voice carried itself from helm of the ship all the way to the docking side. She sure had a strong voice to accomplish that over the roar of the crashing surf along the ships creaking exterior. Plus the common jabber of the crew that seemed to light up in passion at her words. Almost as if on que, like a clock or a strong current, they all shuffled aboard the Crux getting the beauty ready for the open seas.

You looked back to Kazuha who was already looking at your features. As if he were drinking you in, memorizing your face. Did he do that with everyone he met?

"You don't look like you're a member of the crew. What is it you do?" You asked as you began making your way to the mess hall. It was almost time for dinner after all, and moving all of those crates helped build quite the appetite. He hums softly as you both make your way down the corridor, the sound of your shoes clicking against the crying wood being the only other sound.

"I'm just a simple wanderer." He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Riasing a brow at his response, you fold your arms over your chest, not believing it for a moment. Maybe he was running from something, or maybe he just wasn't the type to spill the beans about his life to some stranger so fast. He did know the captain, so maybe it was the latter.

"Oh? Well I am as well. It seems like we will be working together for a bit." Extending your hand to him, he paused for but a moment before reaching out. Clasping his hand in yours he gave you a firm yet soft handshake.

"I hope we get along." His soothing voice rang in your ears as the heat from his palm spread to yours. Something in your chest fluttered at his words, but you couldn't quite place what it was.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 26 - Delivery

@jegulus-microfic January 26 Word count 962

Previous part First part

It had been about a month since that first dinner. James remembered it fondly. The look on Sirius’s face when they walked back into the kitchen. He’d choked on his beer and had to be thumped on the back by Remus to get his breath back. 

“You had better not have defiled my bathroom!” He coughed, wiping his mouth on a paper napkin. 

“Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies.” Regulus had teased. “And I think you’ll find it’s my bathroom.” That was the night Sirius’s head had nearly exploded. 

Since then, James and Regulus had spent nearly every free minute together. Regulus had all but moved in. His excuse for not going home was to give Sirius and Remus some time for themselves. 

“That and Sirius is a screamer. There are only so many times I can hear him getting off before I’m jabbing a pencil in my ear.” Regulus had grimaced when James asked why he hadn’t been home in a week. James hadn’t minded, not really. They got along so well. He still didn’t understand why it had taken him so long to notice Regulus. He supposed it was because he’d always seen him as Sirius’s little brother. Well, now he was Sirius’s little brother and the man who did unspeakable things to him. 

He hadn’t broached the subject of labels. He wasn’t sure Regulus would respond well to being called his boyfriend. He thought he’d leave it for a bit and see where they went before he scared him off. As far as he knew, Regulus had never had a serious relationship, just a few dalliances here and there. 

James was busy in the kitchen making dinner. Nothing special, just pasta and sauce and a ton of grated cheddar cheese for him and a block of Parmesan for Regulus. —“Heathen.” Regulus had called him the first time they’d had pasta.— When there was a soft knock at the door. He put down the wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the pasta sauce and went to answer it. 

Regulus was standing on the doormat, bottle of wine in hand.

“I heard a sexy dark-haired Adonis was living here.” He said as his eyes ran up and down James’s person, taking in the bikini-clad headless lady’s body printed on the apron he was wearing. “But clearly, that information was incorrect.” He bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. 

“Oh, shut up and get in. Dinners nearly ready.” James huffed, turning his back on Regulus and returned to the kitchen to check that his sauce wasn’t burning.

Regulus came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him as he reached up on his tiptoes to kiss James’s neck. James tilted his head to the side to allow Regulus’s mouth more access. He moaned gently as Regulus sucked little marks into the delicate skin. 

“Reg, dinner will be spoilt if you continue.” He groaned, knowing exactly where this was going. Regulus moved to the other side of James’s neck and began sucking and kissing there as well.  

James’s breathing became ragged. “Reg,” He whined as he pathetically stirred the bubbling pan. 

The timer on James’s phone went off, startling Regulus and giving James a second to clear his head. “You,” He growled, brandishing the dripping wooden spoon. “Sit down and behave.” He waited until Regulus did as he was told and began serving their dinner. 

They were tidying up the used plates when there was a knock at the door. James went to answer it, Regulus following closely after. 

“Hey, dickhead. I’ve bought you some clean clothes seeing as you haven’t been home in a week. Oh, and you had a delivery this morning. It was signed for, with the angry beeps and everything.” Sirius stood in the doorway holding out an A4 packet. It was thick and looked important. Regulus froze as he stared at it. Sirius wiggled it in front of him. “Earth to Reggie. Come in Reggie—Oi Regulus!” James put a hand on Regulus’s shoulder, snapping him out of his stupor. 

With shaking hands, Regulus carefully took the packet from Sirius and, without a word, walked past James into the office, shutting the door behind him. 

“Do you know what’s in that?” James asked, looking confusedly at the closed door. 

“No idea.” Sirius shrugged. “Gonna invite me in for a cuppa then? Instead of leaving me standing out in the cold.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, yeah, sure, come in.” James moved aside, letting Sirius pass.

They left Regulus alone. He’d come and tell them what was up when he was ready. James made him a cup of tea anyway. 

It took Regulus over half an hour to emerge from James’s office, the now open packet still in his hands. 

He sat down at the kitchen table opposite James. James hurriedly made a fresh cup of tea and slid it across the table. Sirius pulled a hip flask out of his pocket and poured a liberal amount of whisky into the tea. 

They sat and waited in silence. Finally, Regulus took a sip from his scalding tea and inhaled loudly. 

“That was a job offer for my dream job.” He told them, his voice quiet and not at all excited. 

“Wow, that’s amazing, Regulus, congratulations.” James beamed at him, his eyes crinkling at what he thought was good news. Sirius, on the other hand, knew his brother better. 

“What’s up, Reg?” He said, watching his brother’s reactions through narrowed eyes. 

“It’s a three-year contract.” He told them, swallowing audibly. 

“So, what’s the problem?” James was worried now, cottoning on to the tension that had taken over Regulus’s body. 

“In New York,” Regulus said almost apologetically. All the air escaped out of James’s body. 

“Oh…”   

Next part

[her-gracious-lady-herald-bits1]

Pairing: Leliana/ Female Tabris

The first bottle is nestled at the base of a tree, its red ribbon fluttering faintly in the breeze. Leliana pauses, staring at the glass.

Antivan Red.

(It’s the kind of wine she hasn’t touched since—)

Her throat tightens. She reaches down, brushing her fingers over the bottle’s neck, where a stem of Andraste’s Grace has been tucked beneath the ribbon. The petals are delicate, their pale pink edges only slightly wilted. Leliana’s breath hitches.

She pulls the parchment note free.

*Oi, you coming or what?*

The messy scrawl pulls a faint smile from her, but it doesn’t quite reach her chest. She straightens, taking the bottle and the flower before she moves on.

More bottles follow, each with another note tied around its neck and another stem of Andraste’s Grace tucked carefully into the bow. The trail winds deeper into the woods, sunlight catching on glass and ribbons, and Leliana’s steps slow as she collects them.

*Better be worth all this sodding effort.*

*Zev says I’m being dramatic. He can piss off.*

(Her lips twitch at that one.)

The flowers are clumsily tied, some of their stems snapped where they’ve been forced into place. Leliana brushes her fingers over one of the petals.

The faint sound of cursing pulls her attention ahead. Leliana steps through the trees and into a clearing.

Kallian is there, wrestling with the laces of a crimson Orlesian gown. The dress clings awkwardly to her frame, one shoulder slipping down to bare the bronze of her skin. The hem drags in the dirt, catching on roots.

"Sodding—bloody—who even wears this shite—"

"Kallian," Leliana calls.

Kallian freezes mid-yank, spinning toward her. Her golden-brown eyes narrow beneath the edge of a silver-and-red mask, her mouth curling into something between a smirk and a grimace.

"Oh. Uh." She clears her throat. "Didn’t think you’d get here so fast."

"You left quite the trail," Leliana replies, stepping into the clearing. Her gaze sweeps over Kallian—the dirt streaked on her arm, the ribbons tied at her wrists, the faint tension in her posture.

(And the dress. And the mask. And the fact that she’s standing in the middle of nowhere with Andraste’s Grace practically spilling out of her hands.)

Kallian shifts, rubbing the back of her neck. "Figured you might miss the fancy Orlesian shite. Thought I’d… I dunno. Bring some of it back."

Leliana’s steps falter.

Fancy Orlesian shite. Marjolaine, lounging in a gold-trimmed chair, boots on the table, laughing low and sharp. Leliana’s hand brushed a ribbon, its knot uneven.

And here is Kallian—tangled in lace and ribbons, surrounded by bottles and flower

"it's not good enough, Ain't it?” Kallian asks, her voice aiming for casual but missing the mark.

One of her ears flicks faintly, betraying her.

Leliana forces herself forward, her hand brushing the slipping strap of Kallian’s dress.

"It’s perfect," she murmurs.

Kallian stiffens, her mouth twitching. "Maker’s tits, you’re laying it on thick."

"Am I?" Leliana tilts her head, her hand lingering before stepping behind Kallian. "You’re meant to lace it like this."

Her fingers work at the fabric. The laces are tangled, and the dress is too loose to sit properly, but Leliana takes her time.

(There’s no rush. Kallian is practically vibrating under her touch anyway.)

"And the mask?" Leliana asks softly.

“Might’ve pinched it off some fancy bastard," Kallian mutters. Then, quickly: "Bought it. Proper-like."

"Of course." Leliana hums.

"And the wine?"

"Zev nicked it."

"That explains a lot."

Leliana finishes the last lace and steps back, her gaze lingering as Kallian turns to face her.

"Well?" Kallian mutters, her voice gruff. "You gonna say I look ridiculous or what?"

Leliana lets her gaze trail over her—ribbons slipping loose at her wrists, dirt smudged at her elbow, the faint sheen of sweat on her brow. "Ridiculous? No." Her voice softens. "Beautiful."

Kallian blinks, her ears flicking faintly. Leliana sees the way they angle forward, even as Kallian’s mouth curls into a crooked grin.

"Right," Kallian mutters. "If you say so."

"I do."

The silence between them stretches, warm and weighted. Leliana tilts her head, her gaze lingering on the mask. She reaches for it without thinking, her fingers brushing its edge.

"May I?"

Kallian nods stiffly.

The mask comes away slowly, revealing sharp features and freckled skin. Leliana’s breath catches at the flush high on Kallian’s cheeks, the golden-brown eyes that flick to hers before darting away.

Leliana exhales softly. "This," she begins, her voice quieter now, "was thoughtful of you."

Kallian shifts, her ears angling back slightly. "Figured it might help."

"It does." Leliana’s fingers brush the edge of Kallian’s dress again, trailing over a stray ribbon. She doesn’t step closer—not yet. Instead, she lets the moment linger, the clearing falling quiet save for the faint rustle of leaves.

"I don’t know if you realise," Leliana murmurs, "just how much this means to me."

Kallian shrugs, muttering, "It’s nothing, really."

(It’s not nothing, but Leliana doesn’t push.)

She steps closer now, her voice quiet as her fingers curl lightly around Kallian’s wrist. "Thank you,"she whispers.

Kallian doesn’t speak. Her breath hitches slightly when Leliana’s touch lingers. The silence stretches again, steady and warm, until Leliana tilts her head just slightly, her lips curving faintly.

And then—slowly, carefully—she leans in.

The kiss is soft, unhurried, and quiet. There’s no urgency, no clash of teeth—just the gentle press of Leliana’s lips against Kallian’s. She feels the tension in Kallian’s shoulders ease by degrees, the slight tilt of her head as she leans in, too.

When they part, neither speaks for a long moment. Kallian’s ears flick faintly, her expression unreadable until she mutters, “Well. That wasn’t terrible.”

(Leliana’s laugh feels lighter than it has in weeks.)

---