#easy way to attract me thank u. they can lead me to the attractions. them. they are the attractions

[goldentigerfestival]

babe wake up new matching yuri and flynn merch just dropped

[okkotsuus]

Hey, just requesting. How r u? Can I request... Barou Shouei, Karasu Tabito, Shidou Ryusei, Raichi Jingo x GN! Ahodere! Reader (Ahodere: Someone who's very friendly, kind-hearted, and high-spirited, but completely stupid when it comes to romance. They're super dense and usually mistake romantic gestures towards them as something else. Matter of fact, they can even be oblivious to their own feelings. They're like Bakaderes, but Bakaderes are more naive and childish.) Genre: crack, #Save[Various], Reader is as dumb as a rock when it comes to romance - [Various] gets encouraged by their friends (Any group of Blue Lockers of your choice) to finally make a move on Reader (or they encourage themselves with their friends watching). After practice, they finally flirt with Reader. Fairly easy right? Not when your crush is denser than a rock. It's honestly embarrassing to watch.

DENSITY (bllk) !

features: barou shouei. karasu tabito. shidou ryusei.

contents: pining. very fluffy. crack. dense reader. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 karasu. i'm down bad for karasu. shidou is his own warning tbh.

notes: i'm good, how are you? i got lazy and didn't do raichi but i hope i did this the way you wanted, thank you for requesting :))

barou shouei

it was no surprise that barou was incredibly hesitant when it came to romance. he was possibly just as dense as you when it came to the subject.

if it weren't for bachira noticing the way that his gaze would stick to you, how little he shouted in your direction: it would have gone unnoticed. all it took was just a week's worth of constant pestering from his teammates to make him nearly start clawing at the walls.

he was so pissed that they had something to hold over him, someone to torment him with. meanwhile, you were so easily unaffected, it made him question if you even held any affection for him.

but barou is not a doubting man, he doesn't get nervous over something as simple as the idea of being rejected. so, begrudgingly, he ends up walking your way after a long practice: wanting to just get it over with.

a few 'woops' and cheers sound behind him, likely bachira and isagi. he only flips them the birdo over his shoulder before stopping in front of you.

"hey, y/n. go out with me." his voice is slightly rough, eyes narrowed. he may never find himself getting nervous over the most simple things, but barou swears his heart speeds up just slightly.

your eyes widen as your head tilts to the side, brows pinching in confusion. "oh? i'd love to hang out some time! shall we invite the rest of the team and maybe go bowling?" the words nearly have him letting out a shout, eye twitching.

he sighs, gritting his teeth. barou can feel the entire team staring him down, too far away to actually hear the words but still watching. "no, not with those peasants. just us." the man grumbles, the slightest hue of pink rising to the tips of his ears as his eyes hurriedly look off to the side.

then, your eyes widened, a smile crossing your face. "am i getting a surprise for something??" you just sound so damn excited that he can't help but internally groan.

strong hands grab your shoulders, hauling you closer. barou's face is dangerously close, his brows are furrowed and a vein pops out of his forehead. "dammit you moron, i'm hitting on you..!"

"but you're only holding me, not hitting..?" he lets out a loud exasperated shout, turning and storming off while the team watches in awe.

it seems the barou will have to try again another day, he ran out of confidence patience.

karasu tabito

karasu has never been one to have trouble with finding someone, much less with being able to attract them. he was a pretty boy, tall and lean, even had a talent to boot.

but you, you evaded his charms so easily. it made him feel like a damn fool. which leads to him ranting to otoya in the locker rooms after practice.

"i swear man, it's like they don't even see me as a man, ugh..." he trails off with a sigh, eyes closing as his head leans back against the lockers. sweat drips down his face before his eyes open to look back at his friend.

otoya lets out a wicked cackle, amused by his best friend's misery. "then ya gotta do somethin' real bold, make 'em remember!" he offers, smirking as karasu's eyes widen like he had an epiphany.

the taller boy jumps up, shouting a thanks as he rushes out of the locker room. he nearly tumbles over as he skids to a stop in front of you, chest heaving.

karasu backs you up against a wall, eyes narrowing as a smooth smirk splits his pretty pink lips. "wanna get out of here, angel..?" his voice is like honey, thick and sweet.

but you don't even flush, no sense of surprise or nervousness, just that same dumb smile. "are you getting tired of the facility? i'd love to show you around the town at the foot of the mountain!" your words are chipper, but there's no sense of truly understanding what he had actually meant in them.

he swears his heart stops for a moment, eye twitching as his mouth hangs open in shock. but he decides to double down, hands resting against your waist as he leans ever-closer.

"no, but i'm awfully tired of you playing coy..." there's a slight rumble to his voice, convinced you were playing hard-to-get. karasu didn't believe that someone could ever be this dense. especially not with how obvious he's made things.

but you just blink at him, lips parting into an 'o'. he feels his heart stop as he realized you really are just that dumb, he would have to literally spell it out for you.

"i want you, in every sense of the word."

shidou ryusei

ryusei had never been one to falter when chasing the things he wanted. he has never backed down. for the longest time, all he'd desired had been soccer: scoring and winning. but that was until his eyes saw you.

like a predator he found himself observing your every moment, quieter than before. he lingered around you while in blue lock, as if someone would snatch you away.

every goal her scored has pink irises flitting in your directing, a wicked smirk parting his lips when he hears your praises. soccer had never felt so euphoric before.

he begins to crave the feeling, like an addict. ryusei scores goal after goal, getting hits from the little gasps of awe you give him so generously. he finds his cheeks flushed hot pink, eyes nearly rolling back into his head.

it's at that moment he decides he can't stand the thought of ever being without that sensation. so, after practice, only with a few wishes of his failure from rin, he decides to strike.

ryusei finds you easily, as if he was attuned to it. he doesn't introduce himself, just wraps his arms around you from behind, chin propping against your shoulder. "i have never wanted to score anything more than a goal, until you pranced so happily into my life..."

your head tilts back to look at him, a confused look on your face. you show no signs of fluster, expression completely neutral. "thank you?" your voice is perplexed, but still warm.

in that second ryusei realize how much he desires to see your facade crumble. how he wants to see you break and finally realize his intentions. he years to see your face painted in red with wide eyes locked on him: and only him.

and he never loses sight of his goals.

okkotsuus 24

[ddeongies]

i need to lock in so i can try and do a thinkpiece for chapter 12 but that will maybe have to come later(slash never...) bc we are in the same boat and my brain is mushhhh right now so this might also be incoherent but HELLO HI i saw and read ur update so quickly i think something activated in me like nmau sleeper agent. this chapter was so cute 🥹🥹🥹 i love them sm...to my earlier ask YESSS TRUST AND CONSENT IS SO SEXYYYY ESPECIALLY WHEN CHARACTERS RESPECT WHEN SOMEONE'S SAYING NO and it's so good to see that from both sides too, i kind of said everything i have to say abt it in that other ask but really it's just so lovely how comfortable they are with each other despite the still lingering uncertainty about the nature of their relationship AUGH.

i love ryujins inner monologue all the time but just seeing how yeji seeps into her thoughts more and more over time and seeing her just bask in this overwhelming presence and her blossoming feelings like shes down BADDDDD, just this headfirst tumble from plain attraction into (almost) love i love themmmm.

ik we love seeing sexy top yeji but her cutie side is JUST AS IMPORTANT!!! soft pouty yeji im so...shes so...and her unfaltering desire to do whatever she thinks will make ryujin happy like even though she had already said it was fine they weren't hooking up, still offering just omg chill. i love her. sometimes she needs to think about herself first though. but thats just adding back on to my earlier point like ryujin is there and counter balances where yeji's mind might go and reassures her that yes she does actually like yeji as a friend before anything else.

i love the level of intimacy they've reached in this chapter...playing with fingers while cuddling always gets me like . we are seeing each otherrrr its so important. and the soft kisses without leading into anything else like AAGHBH THEYRE SOOOO the way u write them is sooooo........

let me add the little bits i did have from 12 thinkpiece i half started ummm.

first of all. yejiselle IM NODDINGGGGG THEYRE LITERALLY SO GREAT i love aetzy i love their friendship u literally give them such a fun dynamic even though theyre not the main focus. second of all. i really appreciate the way you explore that quieter, more contemplative side of yeji, like we all know she's a talker but this yeji(all of your yejis really) feels so steady, so calming, so safe. the kind of warmth that puts you to sleep because of how relaxed you feel etc etc. third of all... when ryujin gets a little bit mouthy and then they start a playful banter oh exactly and the ROUGHHOUSING YESSSSSS like u literally get it u literally understand everything

ok back to business. i really like your descriptions of like. scenery. like even just beyond actually describing it the way you do it makes it feel like actual characterization both in the way things in rooms are set up and the way whichever pov character notices and describes things its so great.

...the eager beaver shirt...ur sick....i also love when we get to see snippets uve posted show up in whichever fic theyre from

i think that's all for now i might come back again later if i think of anything else im dying to comment on, also i saw u got around to my other ask and i loved reading ur answer so much like we literally are seeing eachother abt everything. (and dont worry about taking a while to answer them, i totally get it). as always. thank you and take care!!!

-🖤

omg i will eagerly await a chapter 12 think piece no rush no rush 😁 (and never is good too lol i feel you very hard on the brain mush issue godspeed friend)

i love showing consent and trust and stuff and one of my goals with nmau ryeji is to show like just them having this comfort and compatibility and mutual respect from really early on. like it’s not too hard to get through the slightly messier and more uncertain parts of getting together when the foundation you have is so good and easy! like do they know how to ask each other out? no! is it still worth it to keep trying? i’d say so!

god yeah yeji is SO much more present for ryu than she used to be like early on if yeji wasn’t physically there ryu wasn’t thinking about her so constantly but now…. she’s down just as bad as yeji is lol i love it and that’s what it’s like when you’re into someone… like everything is about them and you don’t even realize it

part of what makes sexy top yeji so sexy is the fact that she’s also this cute and pouty softy like she’s just all around precious and then she says or does something more 🥵 and it’s like oh…

but yeah it’s also really important to me that they had this baseline of friendship first. like you don’t need that for a good relationship (i literally met my wife on tinder so we dated in a very straightforward way lol), but for these two i really like it’s necessary for them to both get to the places they need to be idk

playing with fingers is so important….. especially when it’s something that irl ryeji be doing like please ladies 😭 and they both have such nice hands too 😭 (something that may be coming up in the chapter i’m currently working on lol)

i love aetzy so much they’re so fun n cute! (i also love yeji and jimin’s friendship, but it didn’t work out narratively in nmau sorry girl. giselle specifically felt like a perfect non-athlete friend for yeji to have in this story specifically i’m glad she has a role.

i really see yeji as such a steady, grounded, emotionally intelligent person. it’s very strange to me when people boil her down to like yapping and being clumsy (which are both parts of her that i adore), but like i think the more and more we get to see of yeji when she’s not in pure like Idol Mode (like in her instalogs) it just proves more what was already clear. she’s like a calm, observant, contemplative person and idk i think that’s really neat. ryujin has literally said if she’s the sun yeji is the moon like… it’s fascinating how little we truly know her (and i will stop my essay on how incredible i think yeji is as a person and continue to keep addressing it in my writing lol i got carried away)

also YES roughhousing is so important like they’re just acting like two kids with crushes which is what they are!! any excuse to get a little physical with the girl you like lolol

and thank you! i really try to make scenes feel grounded. sometimes i’ll do a first pass where i just focus on dialogue and internal monologue and then i go back in and choose like the setting/activity and try to flesh everything out

lol i definitely got a bit carried away here, but thank you as always for such a thorough and lovely comment!! i love chatting about all this stuff so so much it’s one of the best parts of writing in this amazing little community! 🥰

[kiribaku-queen]

Hiii congratulation for 1000 followers! U deserve it! So i was thinking of bakugou!prohero a reader where he's always busy and always hv this photoshoot with these hot models or hot pro hero that made reader feel left out. And the last straw was when a newly magazine publish of him kissing other girls cheek (or mouth) (u do u;)) and thats when they had a bad fight that caused reader to run away. I would like it to be heavy angst with a happy ending. I love angst but after a heavy angst i like a happy ending to soothe my heart 😂 if u do choose this, gudluck!

Blinded by the Fame

Angst

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: Thank you so so much for this request! I was actually so excited to do this piece because I already had an idea I wanted to use and this scenario was PERFECTO~! So painful yet so good!

Thank you for the congratulations and I hope this request met your needs! Please let me know your thoughts!

Who said dating an upcoming hero was going to be easy? It certainly wasn’t easy, not in the slightest. You definitely had hard days. There were times when it got so difficult that you wanted to quit. But was loving the hero worth it and fulfilling? Absolutely.

Bakugou Katsuki was the love of your life. Relationships were never easy. Couples always have obstacles and challenges they have to overcome. Even when you were in tears, screaming at each other at the top of your lungs, even if you gave each other the cold shoulder the entire week, nothing could replace the warmth that was Bakugou’s arms. You would never much refuse his touch every tine, but that wouldn’t stop Bakugou from having you in his arms every night, whispering sweet nothings in your ears despite all the things he said prior. And you would forgive him. Of course you would. How could you not?

But being with a rising hero came with bearing a lot of burden that you had to keep to yourself. You didn’t like how he was working all the time. You didn’t like how he came home bruised up, sometimes not even going to the hospital if it means not being able to see you for the night. You couldn’t bare seeing him like that. But that was part of his job and that was never going to change. So no matter how much you absolutely hated the sight, you let him do his hero work because that was what he loved to do. You couldn’t interfere with his dreams of becoming the number one hero.

But the thing that itched you the most was when Bakugou was forced to promotional shoots to get his name out there. The memory of when he first started made you laugh. Being the Bakugou that he was, he flat-out refused to do it. He didn’t like getting his picture taken. He’ll dress up once in a while, and when he does it’s real clean, but he wasn’t a fan of constantly dressing up. But when he finally let go and tried it once, he saw how much fan votes and popularity he was getting and eventually, would do more here and there.

And you didn’t mind if the shoots were by himself, but most of the time, they were with other pro-heroes or very attractive models. And that you feel insecure. How could it not? Your boyfriend getting close to other women while you looked nothing like these women? You didn’t have the body, the face, the money, or the fame these women brought to the table. You would never admit it, but you hated when other women were in the picture. And you hated when one of the women would be touching him. It left a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach. You were so sure that he was going to leave you for one of them. But he proved his love by dropping down on one knee with the most gorgeous ring.

“Come with me to the shoot,” Bakugou proposed but you hesitated.

“I can just meet you at the restaurant,” you decided. The mention of being on set for one of his photoshoots seemed like a bad idea.

“I want to go together. It won’t even take long. One hour tops,” he swore and brought you by the waist, your body flushed against him. He takes your face in his hands and gently puts your foreheads together.

“I know you’ve been wanting to go to this restaurant forever. Let’s go together,” he whispers and you couldn’t help but fall for that voice over and over again.

“Okay,” you whispered back. He smiles at you, places a small kiss to your forehead, then your lips, before taking your hand to lead you to the car.

The set of the shoot was intimidating. People were running around everywhere, cameras were set in all positions, lights were blinding and hot, the space just looked so busy. And you felt like you didn’t belong. But Bakugou was so used to this kind of scene. He leads you to where the photographer and the director were talking.

“Ah, Pro-Hero Dynamite, you made it!” the director greeted your boyfriend. “Your stylist is in the next room. Go ahead and get changed and we’ll get started.” Bakugou nodded and turned to you.

“I’ll be right back,” Bakugou said and kissed you on the forehead. You watched as your boyfriend disappeared in the sea of people and then you were left all alone.

This was fine. You would just wait in the back patiently for him to be done. And then you two could enjoy a nice evening out at that fancy restaurant you’ve always been wanting to try. Just relax. You closed your eyes and took deep, but slow breaths. There was nothing to get worked up over. Afterall, it looked like Bakugou was doing this shoot by himself.

But you spoke too soon. Bakugou had appeared from the dressing room, looking all dashing and handsome. You felt your heart skip again. He was wearing a red shirt that was unbuttoned to the third button, exposing his broad and muscular chest. Over, he wore a black jacket with leather gloves and pants. His hair was styled slightly back, forehead showing. He was mesmerizing to look at. But shortly after his appearance, two women walked out behind him. Two gorgeous, fit, and slim women who wore skin tight, elegant dresses were doing the shoot with him. And for some reason, your heart began to hurt. The pang in your heart was constant that you had to beat at your chest to calm yourself down.

They were beautiful. And you had recognized one of the women: Pro-hero Miruko. You knew their history together. Bakugou had worked under Miruko during his school days and eventually worked along side with her after he graduated. You knew she was a flirt. She flirted with everybody. And that was fine, until she got alittle too touchy with your boyfriend. And that bothered you. But Bakugou was so used to her behavior that he didn’t even notice.

You couldn’t say anything. They are old time friends and co-workers. What? Are you supposed to say that he can’t be friends with her anymore just because you didn’t like it? And then you would look like the possessive girlfriend? You were fine with him being friends with other women, but they did make you nervous. Nervous because all the women he’s surrounded by are so unbelievably good looking, it put you to shame. Why would he want to be with you when he could have all these women to choose from?

But you tried to shake these negative thoughts away and playfully tugged at the ring on your ringer. There was a reason why he chose you. There was a reason why he gave you this ring. You shouldn’t think this way. But you couldn’t help it. You tried not to let it bother you, but in the end, it did. It really did. It bothered you so much that you couldn’t stop fidgeting.

You watched at Bakugou sat on the couch with both women on each side of him. His arms were lounging on the back of the couch while one girl sat next to him and Miruko stood behind him. Looking at his facial expressions, he didn’t seem interested in any of the girls. Which is a good sign?

And so the shoot started. Nothing else could be heard besides music playing in the background and the loud click of the camera. Everyone else was watching the shoot take place. Everything looked okay so far. Their outfits were scandalous but nothing scandalous was happening. The only directions the models were given was to look sexily at the camera. Bakugou delivered that perfectly with his go-to signature look. But now the photographer wanted more.

“Can the two women get a little closer, please?” the photographer asked and put his camera up to his face once more. The girls did what they were told and Bakugou didn’t even flinch. But you were growing nervous. There was more skin happening, more touching and it was making you uncomfortable. You gasped when you saw Miruko grab Bakugou by his chin to lift to towards her direction. Then she leans in, her lips ghosting over his ever so slightly, like they were about to kiss. Tears were spilling out and your cheeks heated up in anger until you finally exploded.

“Stop!” you yelled, stopping all production. Heads from all around turned to you. Mirko looked at you shocked and Bakugou was wide eyed with curiosity and concern. You gripped the handle of the purse that was slung around your shoulder, feeling anxious now that everyone was looking at you.

“Sorry, give me one moment,” Bakugou apologized to the staff. He got up, rushing towards you. He takes your hand and brings you in the dressing room. The door slammed shut and Bakugou turns to you in a huff.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed. With tears streaming down your face, you were shocked by his reaction. But you were going to stand your ground.

“I don’t like how she was touching you,” you say.

“It’s my job,” he sighs in exasperation.

“Well she should learn her boundaries, whether it’s a job or not. And if you respected me at all, you would tell her no,” you stated firmly. But all Bakugou did was roll his eyes.

“You’re overreacting.” You scoff and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m overreacting? Is it wrong that I don’t like when other women are touching you?” you started to raise your voice and talk back.

“Do I have to say it again? It’s my job. If I’m going to make it big, I have to do it. What? You think I like her? You think I was going to let her kiss me? It’s just for the pictures. Geez, how sensitive can you get?” he stabbed you right in a sensitive topic. You stayed silent because you weren’t expecting him to say that. The moment you think he’s going to stop there, he keeps going.

“I might need to save lots of women who are in danger. What? You don’t want me touching them? You’re going to get jealous because I’ll have some stranger in my arms? You’re afraid that she’s going to cling to me for dear life because I’m saving her? You don’t like that?!” he was practically screaming now.

“No! I don’t like that!” you screamed right back, giving back the same amount of energy. The tension in the air was so thick, anyone could feel it. Hell, they were all listening from outside and they felt uncomfortable with the ambiance of the situation. Both parties’ chests were heaving up and down from the labored breathing. And you just glared at each other. Bakugou turns away from you, breaking the ice.

“Fine. If you’re going to be this jealous, then maybe… maybe we shouldn’t be together,” he said. That was it. That was when your heart broke into a million pieces. You felt like if you stood there any longer, you would have suffocated.

“Fine,” you whisper. He doesn’t even spare you a glance. With teary eyes and a heavy heart, you tighten your jaw as you take off your engagement ring, wiggling it off your finger and then setting it down on the counter beside you. The sound of the metal hitting the hard desk was loud enough for Bakugou to hear, but he still chose not to turn to you. You thought that maybe, just maybe, if he turned around and said he didn’t mean it, then you would have been okay. You would have forgave him for those mean things he said. And then you would have apologized to him. But he looked set on his decision.

Without another word, you turned around and sped out of that building, tears never stopping. Everyone saw you go. Miruko laid her sad eyes on you and her broke for you. Shortly after, Bakugou walks back to the couch, plopping down with a huff.

“Let’s continue,” he says begrudgingly. But nobody moves, still shell-shocked about yousr argument. But this causes Bakugou to explode.

“Are you not going to start? Let’s get on with it!!” he hollers and everyone rushes like mice to get back to production. Bakugou lets out a long sigh, face in a permanent frown.

Miruko sits on the back of the couch and looks down at her old friend. She could tell that he was hurting just as much as you, if not more.

“Idiot~” Miruko sang.

“Ha?” Bakugou glared up at his past mentor. Mirko looked at her nails, not paying mind to the hot head who was on the verge of exploding.

“You need to go apologize,” she told him, more like ordered him to.

“Like it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t take her feelings into consideration,” Miruko pointed out, silencing Bakugou on the spot. “If she was feeling a little jealous, then her feelings are totally valid. You need to do something about it and make her feel like she doesn’t need to worry about anything.” Bakugou was only getting more annoyed.

“Whatever. It’s just business. If she can’t understand that, then we don’t need to be together,” he tried to convince himself. But that only hurt himself more.

“Whatever my ass. Then if you can’t be a good boyfriend and comfort her instead of making her feel insecure, then she doesn’t need you. She can find a better man who treats her good.”

“I do treat her good,” Right?

“Oh yes, I can tell,” Miruko said sarcastically. But in all seriousness, she knew he was hurting and she was trying to give advice from a woman’s perspective, but he is so stubborn and hard-headed that he doesn’t want to admit that he was in the wrong.

“Look, you let her go home like that right now, you’re not going to get her back. Go after her,” she advices on a serious note. Bakugou takes a moment to think but it’s all too much. He ruffles his hair and shoots up from the couch.

“Fuck this shit. I’m not doing this anymore,” he announces and storms out of the building. But not before shoving the metal jewelry in his pant pocket.

You didn’t know where you were going. You just walked and walked until you wind up somewhere. And god, you were so hungry. But you couldn’t go to that fancy restaurant that Bakugou had already made reservations for. God forbid he walks in while you were eating. And with another woman? How embarrassing. You couldn’t use his name or his fame anymore. You didn’t want to go back home. What if he shows up at your place? It probably wasn’t likely. He said he was done with you. You left the ring back with him. You guys were over. He wouldn’t show up uninvited. He has no reason to. You didn’t have money on you. You didn’t have any mode of transportation. The only think you had was your phone but the battery can only last so long. So you continued on walking until you hit a park and sat down on one of the benches. You were left alone to bathe in your thoughts until the set sun.

“Where the fuck did she go?” Bakugou mumbled to himself. He checked all the alleyways, in between streets, high and low, but he couldn’t spot you. No matter how he was frustrated he was feeling, he started to get nervous. He wondered if you were okay and safe right now. You hadn’t eaten all day. Wait. There’s no way…

“Hi. Reservation for 2. Under Bakugou,” Bakugou told the hostess. He arrived at the restaurant, in hopes that you came in. But when the hostess said that you hadn’t shown up, his shoulders deflated. Back to square one. So if you weren’t here, then where were you? Had you eaten yet?

Trying his luck, he went to your apartment, but after many attempts, you didn’t open the door. You could either by ignoring him or you weren’t home yet. Knowing you, you probably weren’t home. Then he was going to wait until you came home. Taking a seat next to your door, Bakugou waited. And he was going to wait until he could see your face.

You watched as happy couples and families walked by you, having the time of their lives. You smiled sadly seeing all their smiles and laughter. How you wish you could be like that. But now you don’t even know if or when that was going to be possible. That was all you wanted. Was to be happy. You didn’t want to be in this rabbit hole of sadness. You didn’t want anybody to pity you just because you were crying. But you did long for somebody to listen to you. For somebody to tell you that it was going to be okay and that you are loved. Love… You wanted someone to love you. He just wasn’t the one for you. Then who is? Will you ever find it? Was this your only chance and you ruined it all just because you couldn’t help but feel jealous?

Stupid.

Stupid (y/n).

You always ruin everything in your life. The one time you got something good, it’s gone in an instant. You knew it was too good to be true. But there’s no going back now. It already happened and now you have to move on.

By the time you noticed, the sun had already set and darkness fell upon you. You wanted to stay longer. You debated whether or not you were going to sleep on the park bench. But after recalling new articles of kidnappings happening around the country recently, you decided to go home.

It took you a while to go home. You walked as slow as you could, taking your sweet time returning back to your apartment. All you want to do is snuggle up in bed and go to sleep. You were so exhausted. Mentally, physically and emotionally. You just needed some rest and then you can worry more in the morning. You were coming up to your apartment and saw a person sitting on the floor what looked like in front of your apartment door. No. But there’s no way.

Blonde hair.

That was all it took for you to turn back, go down those stairs and back to the park. You couldn’t face him right now. You were already broken up so why was he there? He said all he needed to say so why was he there?

You thought you were being sneaky but Bakugou caught you. He saw you going back down those stairs and he immediately got up and chased after you.

“(y/n)!” he called out to you but you ignored him. The sound of his voice made your heart clench.

“(y/n)!” he called again, but louder. Again, you continued to ignore him.

“(y/n)!” he called for the last time, this time grabbing your arm. But you shook him as fast as he grabbed you.

“No, leave me alone,” you managed to say. Just keep on walking. Maybe if you walk long and far enough, he’ll give up. But he wasn’t giving up.

“(y/n), stop!” he grabbed you again, yet this time tighter so you couldn’t escape. Then he traps you in between him and the wall, forcing you to face him.

“Stop! Let me go! Leave me alone!” you cry. Your tear stained face and puffy eyes broke Bakugou’s heart. He did this to you. Fuck. He was the worst. You thrashed around, forcing him to let go, hitting him to push him away. Anything so he could get away from you.

Bakugou let you hit him. He deserved it. Every hit that you take at him, he deserved. Slowly but surely, he pulled you in for a hug. You were so drained that you let him. And as soon as you were in his embrace and your cheek hit his chest, you cried. You let it all out and didn’t stop. Bakugou didn’t say anything. He just held you, patting your head until you calmed down.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He kissed the top of your head and rested his head there. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He continued to say. Your cries were muffled by being buried in his chest.

You held onto him tight, continuing to cry your heart out. You thought you were never going to see him again. You thought you were never going to hold him again. Or smell him. You world was crashing down on you but was slowly being put together again.

“Do you want to go inside?” he asks you softly. Your voice was too hoarse and sore from all the crying, so you nodded your head, not letting go of him. Bakugou got the hint and picked you up princess style and led you into the house. There was going to be a lot of talking happening soon in that tiny apartment. It was going to be a long night.

[yostresswritinggirl]

hi! ik sojourner's already ended but i have an(other?) idea in case u ever pick it up since i love ur albedo 😳😳 ok so

what abt a reader who is rlly excited abt alchemy, but they avoid talking abt it bc they start rambling and stuttering and stumbling over their words bc they're so excited? they get assigned/asked to go w/ albedo bc they're rlly good at alchemy too, but they end up fidgeting a lot, muttering and stopping just a few words in before their volume rises and giving short answers when w/ him bc they're afraid of rambling (since they do it to think better when alone, sometimes insulting and arguing w the objects when they don't get the expected result) & being seen as annoying or unprofessional?? i'd like to see how he reacts to these and what he'd think!! and how or when he discovers the reason reader is acting like that

it's kinda (a lot, rlly skowkskdk i always have ideas but never write them) specific, but i rlly like the idea!! i'd love to see what u do w/ it if u ever pick it up in the future :D hope you're staying hydrated and well🥺🥰 -🌌

What do you mean Sojourner's already ended, Sojourner is eternal, Sojourner is forever-

Kidding aside, this is too cute to pass up, even if it's quite a lot! Cute Albedo brainrot moments always please. It might be too much sometimes but I hope you enjoy my interpretation of it! Scenarios format! Starry night, oh I'm always hydrated, thank you and I hope you're well!

For the Record

Albedo working with a Reader that's highly enthusiastic about alchemy but insecure about rambling... (masterlist)

You dealt with Alchemy a year before the Kreideprinz entered Mondstadt, your attunement to the mystic arts baffling and intriguing you every time. During that period, you're not really sure of what art you're doing but in the end, you kept doing great that the people had acknowledged your talents.

Through your own effort and self-study even if unnamed, you managed to put your talent into this art of Alchemy and created discoveries regarding powders and mineral-focused ingredients. It was a shame there was no one to share it to, and when you talk to scholars/practitioners alike, you end up rambling so much to the point that on their end you barely make sense. Whether this was caused by your eaten words or lax and personalized vocabulary over the matter, you're not sure.

Their confused and judgmental stare haunts you, leaving you alone with your raging thoughts and overworking mind when you just want to learn and expand your discoveries to other people without driving them away. Your enthusiasm is great and all, but it's not enough to make others understand.

So when the Chalk Prince entered Mondstadt, blessing the city with his scholarly knowledge and boundless creations, he easily made a name for himself and in extension the city itself.

Before Sucrose and Timaeus, you were called upon by the Grand Master Varka to accompany Albedo and be his temporary assistant seeing as his field in the division is still quite new and you were the only other 'Alchemist' in town besides him. You're both giddy and nervous, like really, really nervous.

You've heard of Albedo and maybe a caught a glimpse or two, but you've never actually interacted enough to know exactly what he looks like or how he is as a person. All you know is that he's a very, very attractive person overall.

"Good-looking, carries this aura of wisdom around him, he's just really charming," were the words that rang through your mind as you pointedly watched your steps, following the carpets leading to Ordo Favonius' laboratory while Lisa's words rang through your head.

Is he really that kind of person? You've heard that he's quite stoic too, but if he's really that distracting, you're scared that it would be harder for you to focus and help out. Honestly how would you even deal with him when your fields of Alchemy are so different from each other?

You have no idea how long you've been thinking, standing in contemplation in front of the set of double doors that leads to the workshop with nothing but doubt in your mind. But upon realizing the teal gaze of another person silently waiting instead of wooden doors, you figured it was far too long.

"Ah, I'm sorry! I was in my head, I wasn't expecting you to-!" You flailed your hands around comically before abruptly stopping, noticing the now confused stare of Albedo of which are distracted by your hands. Clearing your throat, you extended a hand towards him to shake, trying to stare anywhere but his face. "I'm (Y/N), I'll be your assistant until you're well settled in the city. It's nice to meet you, Ma-"

His hand finds yours in a firm grip, a firm shake so sudden you bit your tongue back, "Albedo, Kreideprinz of the Art of Kemia, but just Albedo is fine, I'll be under your care."

Albedo finds it intriguing and surprisingly not that distracting whenever you talk to yourself or to the ingredients whenever you so much as feel the slightest frustration. "Ugh, this Zinc powder is so stubborn, clingy," you angrily mumbled under your breath as you washed off the blue powder that spilled at your hand, "So, so clingy." Since you're facing the sink, you couldn't see the way he was holding himself from laughing audibly at your amusing antics.

You seemed lively and open, is what Albedo thought when he first met you. But this observation soon shattered when he kept getting hanged upon your abrupt stops when delving into your field, something he was really irked about the first few times. Your art of Alchemy is much different from his and he's wishing that you'd clarify and expound all your learnings to him, but in the end, you somehow step back everytime your words became lengthy.

Are you hiding something? Did you not want him to learn the same arts as yours? If those were the case, he couldn't bring himself to ask a simple question such ad why. Every time it crosses his mind, it brings a purse of a pout to his lips and furrowed eyebrows.

Every response you gave always hints even tiny bits of trivias and tips he's never heard, Albedo always takes note of your spills that always cuts before reaching its climax. "-sorry, yes, this is activated charcoal Geo and Pyro slimes reaction." He lets out an audible sigh upon your retreat, your frustrated mind too occupied to notice.

"Please," his desperation drips in his word when he looks at you with eyes filled with raw emotion you'd never know he'd be able to pull off. Your tightly locked lips only pressed on further at his puppy eyes, "Please continue, I wish to know more about your Alchemy, if you would be so kind."

"It's not really- I'm not really the best at explaining it..." You're almost fidgeting, cheeks aching from tensing and warmth. But he regarded you with a blank stare, forcing you to fill the silence, "If I- If I start, my ramblings may not uhm they're not easy to comprehend... or something."

Albedo had been watching more than he'd like to admit, and he's come to relieved (yet still confused) realization that your treatment with him wasn't his alone. You always step back before things get lengthy, words then cutting short and concise with a steeled expression. Lips caught between teeth.

"I digress," his hand motions to yourself to emphasize his next clause. "As your field and sole practitioner of this art, like my own condition, your word of mouth is the best ground of knowledge."

If he was irritated, he's doing a very good job in hiding it. And even with the respectable yet close distance in between you still felt cornered. This is still your master and it's not professional to refuse a scholarly talk, "The electro crystals when charged... ionized? create sparks, while also producing the same result when smacking- mining!"

The scribbles of his pen against his clipboard as he nods in attention urges you on, realizing his focus and sincere interest on the topic, "So when you put the little tidbits or even powdered version in a beaker thingy, depending on the material, they interact with the spark. Honestly, I'm unsure yet how lethal it is but if you put the sparks under fire too, they make like those makeshift gunpowder as well as additional reactions such as-!"

The lilt and proceeding high pitch in your voice usually signifies the approach of your insecurity as well as the climax of your enthusiasm. At this point, you pull your hand up to shut your mouth forcefully, and when Albedo really detests the abrupt end of the conversation his hand would shoot forward to grasp your own.

He'd intertwine your fingers to distract, before urging you to continue with a challenging stare, as if daring you to use your other hand to pull that off again. This whole scene felt oddly scandalous, but oh boy does it send your mind into a bambling, overloaded mess. A heated head forces your lips open even if they sometimes come out in a jumbled string, he learns to decipher them.

The more you get used to or feel more comfortable, Albedo uses that fondness skillfully whenever he wants. "Can you tell me more about the scarlet chunks from Dragonspine?" He throws it so casually in the silence as you two work back to back in your stations, without a beat as your mind is partially preoccupied, you answered into a narrative of trivia. It almost feels like you're talking to the flames of the bunsen while you wait, but Albedo smiles at the now filled silence as he listens with divided attention.

He really likes your voice, and the word of wonders you bring along with you.

"For the record, I don't mind it at all," his breath hovers on your lips, cold and prickly, "Whatever comes out of these lips, I want to hear it all."

That last part eheh

Woah, this went long. Like reader babbling hahaha. I said I'm gonna speedrun, not freaking write this long smh

@zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop @tartuu @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @albaedhoe @xiaophilia @heisenwurst @childe-simp-exe

[cultgambles]

The Pro Hero Gala

Summary: Your first major outing as Hawks’ S/O turns steamy when his jealousy gets the best of him. 

Warnings:  n s f w ! , semi-public, not really use of pronouns referring to you, but u got a vag

WC: 2.3k!

Masterlist | Requests? open

“(Y/N),” Hawks whined, “We’re gonna be late! I’m sure you’ll look fine.”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming! I’m just trying to zip up the back of my dress,” you giggled back. 

“The Number Two can help you with that!” he all but burst into the bathroom, taking in your form. You wore a sparkling red evening gown, with a low back, high leg slit, and dainty nude heels. Hawks whistled, pressing cold fingers against your back, slowly zipping the zipper up. “Got a bit stuck there, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, thank you. You’re my hero,” you sighed sweetly, pecking him on the cheek. His suit was a deep black, so different from his usual tan outfit. His tie was red, almost the same shade as his wings.

“You’re gorgeous in that,” he said, taking your hand to lead you out, “but we’re going to be late if we don’t hurry up.”

“I know, I know. Just a little nervous maybe.”

“Don’t be, they’ll love you.” This was your first time at a Pro Hero Event, of course you were filled with butterflies. You definitely didn’t belong, especially just being a normal citizen. Maybe you’d look just as fancy though? “Stop overthinking, chickadee, just be yourself. Stick by me, and it’ll all be okay. We can sneak out later, if you’re really feeling it.”

“While I would definitely love too, I’m not sure your PR team or fellow heroes would commend that.”

Quietly, a jet black limo pulled up in front of your apartment building and the driver opened the door for the both of you. 

“After you,” Hawks smiled, “Ww would just have to find the perfect time.”

“You just wanna look at my ass, huh?”

“You got me.”

The ride to the event was filled with mindless chatter, soft jazz drifting through the air. Hawks reached out to your clammy hand and gave it a squeeze as you both stepped out of the coach. In an instant, camera flashes blinded your vision, tens of reporters shouting your name for comments. 

“Get outta here, guys, you’re making my baby jealous!” Hawks scolded lightly, a wing covering your frame. Inside was as lavish as you could have imagined, rows of chandeliers, butlers floating around, gold accents everywhere, and of course heroes everywhere. Hawks checked in at the booth, gesturing to you as his plus one.  “C’mon, let’s go say hi to Endeavor.”

You shook your head at his enthusiasm, “One day I’m going to lose you to him.”

“Maybe! But not soon. Not tired of ya yet, kid.”

“Maybe!” you exclaimed in fake shock.

“He got a tight little ass,” Hawks shrugged. “Hey-yo! Endeavor, this is my partner I told you about, [Y/N] [L/N].”

You held your hand out to the fiery man, “Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise, I’ve heard a lot about you, Hawks never stops talking.”

“That’s cute,” you coo to your boyfriend.

“I’m gonna get something at the bar real quick. Want anything?”

“I’m okay, thank you. Well, actually, maybe a martini, please?” Hawks nodded and gave you a quick pat on the head. 

Endeavor was already talking with some of his acquaintances and you were left alone for the time being. Soon enough, some Pro who you didn’t recognize made his way to you. 

He was really laying on the sugar, standing oh so close, his hand ghosting over the curve of your hip. You laughed along, as to not be rude. Little did the two of you know, Hawks could hear every sweet word the man whispered, his feathers puffing up slightly. 

“[Y/N], here, I got it just the way you like it,” he glanced at the other hero, “Hey man, haven’t seen you around before.”

“Oh yes! This is my first event since my debut. Half a year, maybe?”

“Congrats! Hummingbird, I heard Miruko just came in. Wanna go say hi? I know you guys got along.”

“Sure, baby,” you smiled, feeling his bitterness seep through his mask. “Nice talking to you!”

“Wai--”

“I leave you alone for less than ten minutes and you’re already cheating on me?!” he huffed, trying to hide a smile.

You sighed dramatically, doing a woe is me pose. “I just can’t keep them at bay!”

“How ya feelin’ for ya first fancy event?”

“Feeling a little better.” After twenty or so minutes more of mingling with everyone, the presenter stands at the podium.

“My Heros, I thank you all for attending this event, hopefully crime will just pause for this evening”--a couple people chuckled softly--“and have a wonderful rest of the evening. Please find your seats! Dinner will be served shortly.”

“Any ideas of what’s for dinner?”

“Not sure, I heard they hired American chefs, though. Where do you wanna sit?”

“Maybe over there?” you asked, pointing to an empty circular table.

“Lead the way, baby,” Hawks replied.

You and Hawks sat next to each other, facing the stage. Rumi across from you, and a couple others you didn’t quite know. As the lights dimmed, a familiar voice rang over your head.

“Mind if I sit here? I can’t believe all the seats were filled by the time I got back from the bathroom.”

“Ah, of course,” you smiled slightly. It was the Pro from before. Hawks huffed under his breath. The bread bowl made its way around the table and you leaned over to Hawks, telling him how much you love sour dough bread. 

“I like sour dough too!” the man next to you loudly said.

“It’s nice, isn’t it,” you agreed. C’mon, just leave me alone. Dinner continued, different groups putting on stage show shorts for entertainment. And with each comment from the stranger, Hawks’ attitude changed a little. His words a little sharper, eyes a little narrower. Of course, this was only noticeable to the trained eye. A spotlight shown on the stage, illuminating a row of women. Their beautiful display of the Thousand Arms Dance almost made you forget about the hand resting on your thigh. 

In two moments, that changed.

Dangerously close to your sex.

Rubbing small circles on the inner side.

“Hawks.”

“[Y/N].”

“What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the show?”

“Don’t play coy with me, you whisper yelled. 

“No idea what you’re talking about, songbird,” he purred, fingers prodding your sex through your panties softly. 

“Okay. I see how it is.”

“What ever do you mean? Don’t go ignoring Mr. New Pro over there.”

You looked around at the table, everyone enthralled by the dance. Mr. New Pro was cutting his steak into fifty tiny meticulous pieces. Weird. 

“He’s not even talking to me,” you snorted, “for once.”

“But you like the attention, don’t you?” You choked on your water.

“Hey, [Y/N], look at my meat,” the other hero said, gesturing to his plate. 

Hawks’ eyes twitched. “Need to go right now.”

“Show’s not over, it would be rude!”

“Right now,” he hissed, getting up abruptly and dragging you with him. “Dinner was good, but I really want dessert right now.”

The bright lights of the lobby made your eyes take a while to adjust. A supply closet door left unlocked, now your small haven with your boyfriend. “In there,” you pointed.

“You got great ideas, hummingbird,” Hawks praised, pressing you against the wall and kicking the door shut behind him. He gave you a quick kiss before kneeling between your legs. They rested on his shoulders, fingers digging into your supple thighs. “Be quiet, you don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention, do you?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Something about a bunch of Pros seeing you in such a compromising position piqued your interest. 

Hawks attacked your sex, sucking on clit before dragging a tongue along your folds. You threaded a hand through his wild blond hair. Even though you two weren’t dating for a super long amount of time, he was already a master at knowing how to please you. You chalked it up to his keen observation skills. 

His hot mouth brought you so close to your release until he pulled away suddenly. 

“Good girls don’t get to cum until they learn to not flirt with other guys.”

“Barely flirting!” 

“Not what I saw.”

He plunged a finger into your sopping entrance, massaging the spongy patch of flesh that made you throw your head back. 

“What did I say?”

It took you a couple seconds to find the words, to which he pulled his digit out. “No flirting?”

“Close, baby.” Hawks gently placed you on your feet. “Turn around.”

“I wanna see that cute face though,” you pouted. It almost cracked his facade.

“Well, I wanna see your ass pressing against my hips.” You bent slightly, placing your hands on the wall to brace yourself. “That’s it…” you heard his belt buckle come undone, pants dropping to the floor in a heap around his shoes. Hawks’ cold fingers moved your dress to the side, and slowly pulled your silky panties down.

“Glad I wore this dress?”

“You plan it?”

“Didn’t think it would be in the way when we got back home,” you shrugged. “Guess it works for any place, huh?”

Hawks breathed deeply, cock in his hand, running the tip between your ass cheeks. You pushed back, trying to get some friction.

“What are you not supposed to do? Get it right, and I’ll sink into that cute little pussy of yours. Otherwise, we go back to the ballroom, yeah? Dunno if I can handle it though, what, with what’s-his-face all over you.”

“I didn’t catch his name either,” you giggled before clearing your throat, “uhm...you said to not come until you tell me. I’ll be good. I’ll do as you say. Just please--”

“Since you said please,” he hummed, “easy to slide in since you’re so wet for me. Only for me. No one else.”

“Of course!” your walls stretched to accommodate his length. Hawks let out a low groan. “So tight…” 

You let out a high squeak, urging him to go faster. “Birdie, I...I can’t believe we’re doing this here…”

“A certain someone couldn’t wait..”

“I saw you getting pretty antsy too!”

“That little fucker had no business flirting with you right in front of me; and you. You allowed it, egged him on even,” Hawks growled in your ear. 

“Maybe..maybe I wanted a reaction out of you!” your sentence ended with a lit when his tip kissed your cervix.

“Bad move, kid, you know I’m not gonna go easy on ya. When I came back and he was all over you, oooh, I just wanted to kill the bastard. Hero status be damned. When he leaned a little too close at the dinner table, I just wanted to bend you over the table to show him that you’re mine.” Suddenly, Hawks pulled out of you, flipping you around to face him. “Look at me, beautiful.”

You struggled to open your eyes, Hawks’ pinprick eyes trained on your own. They were honestly set ablaze.

He looked beautiful like this: hair more tousled than usual, a bead of sweat on his temple, mouth panting and parted open. “Whatcha lookin’ at baby bird?”

“Just you,” you sighed contentedly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a searing kiss.

You heard his wings ruffle, and his hips slammed into yours at a more fervent pace. Mmmffmmm, came out of your mouth. “I’m--close!”

Jealousy forgotten for the moment, Hawks nodded against the nape of your neck. “Hold on a lil longer. Can you do that for me? Wanna countdown?” he cooed.

“Y--yeah, okay,” your legs squeezed his body to yours impossibly tighter. 

“Five,” he moaned. At least he didn’t start at ten, that would have been an eternity.

When four came around, you ran your hands on his feathers close to his back.

Three. Almost there.

Two, and it’s so close to one. You felt like you’re almost going to vomit, but in a good way. A tightening just about to unravel.

“One, look down at me ravaging this pussy. No one else can do it as well as me, don’t cha know?” Hawks snarled. 

You peeked at where the two of you became one, his hand snaking around to rub at your clit.

“Hawks! Coming, I’m coming,” you moaned, his name falling off your tongue like a prayer. You briefly wondered when he would tell you his real name, but quickly coming to this moment when he spoke.

“Sing me my favorite song, songbird. You know I love to hear it!” His hips stuttered, wings flaring out (you loved that part) as he came, hot cum shooting out into your waiting entrance. Your pussy milked the rest out desperately as you both felt the aftermaths of your highs. He rested his forehead against yours. “I just wanna stay here.”

“In this closet?”

“No, dingus, with you,” he rolled his eyes, pulling out of you gently. “Round two back home?”

“Maybe nail me in the sky or something,” you suggested, pulling your panties up and shifting your dress around.

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirked, picking you up bridal style. He managed to fly out without being seen, and the both of you looked upon a sea of shining lights.

“I’m jealous you get this view every day.”

“It’s better with you, though,” he smiled softly.

“Hawks…”

“What is it?

“You’re hard again? Already?”

Hawks let out his beautiful laugh and you snuggled closer into his chest. “Can’t blame me that my baby bird just put that idea in my head!”

👉👈 hi this is my first smut since a lil while so hope you enjoyed it! Maybe tell me what you thought?

[fairyoftbz]

Étoilé | m. kevin

🏵 pairing: bf!Kevin x fem!reader 🏵 genre: fluff, suggestive  🏵 word count: 2.5k 🏵 tw: suggestive themes, a very badly written make-out session in the water 🏵 synopsis: you thought that you’d celebrate your relationship anniversary like every other couple, but Kevin had another plan in mind. 🏵 requested: yes! thank u!! 🏵 a/n: i apologise if it’s cringe or in a rush, i’m still not used to writing this type of thing! i hope it’s any good...

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Today was a special day for you and Kevin. Celebrating your third year together, happiness hadn't left you since you met this young, talented man. You were over the moon (no pun intended) when you first started dating this little ray of sunshine, and you don’t know where you would be or what you would do if he had never appeared in your life. He brought so much positivity in your life that you could only thank him for making you a better person and the happiest girl on earth.

And today was the day to celebrate those beautiful years of common life. Kevin and you had made sure that you were clear of any type of schedule or appointments to make the most of this beautiful day. In addition to that, the weather seemed to be on your side considering the temperature skyrocketing as the hours passed, not a single cloud on the horizon ready to come and ruin your day, none of that. It looked like even the stars were ready to celebrate your anniversary by offering you the warmth necessary. 

You had talked about your plans a few days prior, and you were the one to come up with a beautiful idea. Why not going back to the places that were essential throughout your three years of common life? 

Kevin instantly agreed with the idea, suggesting places that brought back beautiful memories. You managed to narrow down the places you wanted to visit again to three.

The first place was the coffee shop where you worked as a student with his sister, the one who made this relationship possible by introducing you to him one night during an aperitif at the shop. You remembered how attractive you found him, being a spluttering mess the entire night spent getting to know each other better. 

The next spot was the abandoned field a few streets away from your apartment building. As for your second date, he had prepared a picnic and you spent the entire day there, flirting like two teenagers. You played around and joked for a while, Kevin suddenly asking you to kiss him. Wanting to play around and tease him, you only kissed his cheek and scurried away, leaving an offended Kevin behind. After running out of breath while trying to flee from your date chasing you, you fell back on the picnic tablecloth and timidly pecked his lips before pulling away, your boyfriend becoming flustered by your actions, a bit disappointed that it didn’t last any longer. 

And the third place was at the beach, where you spent the entire day together, enjoying the ocean and the sun as much as you could. Kevin, being the hopeless romantic that he is, asked you to be his girlfriend as the sun was setting, making the scene unforgettable. You still remembered it, even three years later, gladly telling the story to anyone with a huge smile on your face.

You were so sure to have become the protagonist of a fiction that you had to pinch yourself after he had asked you out, just to make sure that you weren’t hallucinating.

And today, you felt all giddy to back to the same place you went to for your second date. just like the first time, he prepared a nice picnic and messaged you to meet him up at the same spot as a few years prior. 

Kevin looked handsome when you arrived, and you were excited to spend the day together. Everything surrounding you was gorgeous, you took a lot of pictures from the scenery and your boyfriend, having fun and flirting like the first time until the sun decided to leave. However, instead of acting cute, Kevin was more teasing, sometimes borderline explicit, just to see the bashful look on your face.

“Stooop, not this loud,” you playfully nudged him in the ribs and he cockily raised his eyebrow, breaking into a laugh. 

He swiftly tackled you to the ground and hovered above you, nearing his face to yours while whispering sweet nothings into your ears. You grabbed his face and gently grabbed it away from you to press your lips against his, slowly making out with him. 

“So I am not allowed to whisper things to you, but you can kiss me like that?” he said while pulling away, making you giggle as you looked to the side. “You know that there are families around, with children, trying to have a good time together. So try to keep your needs to the bedroom, baby,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes with a huff, knowing that he felt the same as you did.

His teasing grin confirmed what you thought, the light in his eyes changing into something quite different, hotter, needier. With only one look, you understood the other and immediately packed everything, putting away things in a rush, Kevin on your heels as you dashed to the car park of the supermarket nearby. When you were in the car, giggling like a schoolgirl as the exhilaration rushed through your veins, your boyfriend’s hand resting on your thigh as it innocently trailed higher the closer you got from your apartment, breath itching in your throat each time he teased you even more. 

Yet, as you were about to take the small street to reach your building, Kevin decided differently by driving right past it, speeding away after taking a sudden turn. Your eyes watched the street sign and you smiled as he started following a route to a well-known spot: the beach. 

In the thrill of getting out of the car, you took the untidily folded tablecloth and bolted to the beach, laying it on the sand before happily sitting down between Kevin’s legs. His arms immediately surrounded your waist and his mouth trailed open-mouthed kisses on the skin of your neck, making you shudder at the sensation. Kevin smirked as you were easily affected by his touch, laid hold of your waist to press you further against him.

You smiled and gave a half-suppressed laugh as you pressed your cheek on his shoulder, getting lost in the sensation as you struggled to suppress the moans that were already threatening to spill at the abandoned field.  Your boyfriend stopped for a while and you sighed in relief, feeling your heartbeat slowly calming down as he stopped his ardent attack on your neck.

“I have an idea,” Kevin declared, now huskily whispering in your ear. “Yeah?” you replied as his hand gently caressed your thighs up and down. “Do you follow me?” you slightly frowned at his words, turning your body around as you watched him get up. He took off his baseball cap and dropped it on the tablecloth, grabbing the back of his V-neck sweater and took it off before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. 

“You wanna go in the water?” You stated, observed getting into work, earning a smirk from the man standing in front of you. “Isn’t it a good idea?” Smirking, he threw his shirt at you while biting his lower lip, rolling your eyes at his comment. “The last in the water will do the dishes until September!” he yelled as he was about to take off his jeans, only to watch you spring on your feet and removed your dress, getting ahead of him as you wore fewer items of clothing than him.

He froze for a quick second as he saw the sheer, sexy white lingerie you hid under the fabric of your dress, his distracted eyes allowing you to take the lead and run towards the ocean at full speed. The water was cold but the burning sensation travelling your body didn’t prevent you from entering the ocean. It managed to cool you down instantly as you got water to your stomach, gazing at a defeated Kevin that arrived a few seconds after you.

“That is so unfair,” he said while entering the water, dragging you by the waist in deeper water as you laughed. 

With your hands resting on his shoulders, he glanced at you with a smirk tugging on his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist. Hair framed your face in the most gorgeous way, Kevin observing you with admiring eyes, a gentle smile appearing on his face. 

“You are gorgeous Y/N. You never told me you were wearing this set though,” he mumbled, without being affected by the small waves, looking at you with a sudden sparkle of lust illuminating his eyes. “Oh. My mistake. I should have undressed in front of everyone at the field to show you,” you murmured with a mocking smile, only to have Kevin roughly grabbing the back of your head to pull you against his mouth, messily kissing your lips as he hungrily held you tight against him.

The hotness of your bodies grinning against the other was almost enough to warm up the entire ocean, his touches lingered in your mind as his hands travelled lower to grab your ass. You hated to admit it, but Kevin only needed to kiss you with all his might to make you melt in a small puddle of love. It was delicious, you couldn’t even deny it, his hands kneading the flesh of your butt cheeks always achieved to make you feel some type of way. Just feeling him against you felt like heaven, pressed chests heaving together as you were about to lose yourself to him. 

“Don’t play with me, baby,” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again with more eagerness this time. You grabbed the shorter hair at the back of his head and tugged on it, Kevin emitting a groan against your lips.

Pulling away, he slowly yet roughly grabbed your lower lip between his teeth, tugging and playing with it as his hands were busy playing with the wet lace underwater, pursing your lips to stifle a whimper. 

Lust and arousal filled your eyes as you stared at Kevin, barely keeping them open at the intensity of the emotions you were feeling. He let go of a hand on your ass to come and gently cup your throat, tongue slowly entering your mouth and easily dominating yours as you felt a rush of heat bolting south, a small moan escaping your mouth.

“I’ll never get over how easily you get turned on with just with my hand around your throat,” he chuckled, and you groaned, slightly annoyed at how cocky he sounded. 

Kevin acted all smug and playful, but you also knew he was slowly losing his mind at how much he loved and cared for you. The only thing that he wanted to do right now was showing you all the love he had for you, but he also knew that words and actions weren’t going to be enough to even reach how much he loved you.

You wanted to talk back, but he was quick to silence you by trailing his hand to your cheek to cradle it while his mouth went the opposite direction, leaving prominent hickeys on the smaller ones that he gave you on the beach and at the field. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head and your stomach did somersaults at the overwhelming sensation. 

“I think that’s enough foreplay. Don’t you think?” you said, and his mouth stretched into a smirk, dying the following second as he kept on taking the right path to send you to cloud nine.  “Someone’s quite eager tonight, hm? Let me take care of you, love,” he whispered and disappeared in between your breasts.

[...]

Chests rising and falling against the other, Kevin gave you a quick kiss on the lips and another one on your jaw before walking closer to the shore hand in hand, feeling the exhaustion washing over you. With an arm crossing over your breasts just in case, you picked up the discarded bra on the sand that your boyfriend threw a few moments prior, holding it away from you as it was wet and sandy.

You both quickly paced to your tablecloth, drying yourselves as best as you could as you got dressed again, relieved when you noticed that no one had stolen anything during your little lovemaking session. The adrenaline rushed through your veins as you pulled your dress over your body again, shivering as you felt the lace wet some parts of your dress. Quickly discarding the panties off your legs for some comfort, you glanced at your boyfriend who was rebuttoning his shirt as if nothing happened.

“Naughty girl,” he smirked as he detailed your actions, handing you his V-neck sweater. “I’m not that cold,” you stated but took it anyway, Kevin breaking in a fit of laughter. “Your nipples say otherwise, darling, or it's the thrill of getting freaky in the ocean maybe?” your eyes widened at his boldness, a shocked, playful look painting your face before putting his sweater on. “You perv,” you giggled, and he shook his head, grabbing the panties you were holding and tucked them in his jeans back pocket.

Turning back to the ocean, you looked at the dark blue water, the starry sky and the moon illuminating the small waves and the foam crashing on the sand before vanishing back in the salty water. You sighed and softly smiled, two arms wrapping around your shoulders in a much gentler way than a few moments prior.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” Kevin whispered in your ear and you lifted a hand to rest it on one of his forearms, enjoying your boyfriend’s hold and warmth surrounding you. The teasing atmosphere had disappeared, getting replaced by something deeper, softer. “Look at the sky, it looks gorgeous,” you whispered as if speaking louder would break the moment. Kevin kissed your cheek, lips lingering on your skin and you smiled, gently turning your head to peck his lips. Everything was slower, gentler, and softer as if your actions in the water were just a great memory. “It is indeed gorgeous, there’s nothing compared to you admiring it,” he whispered, and you smiled, a delicate warmth engulfing your heart in a hug at his cheesy words.

Boy, this man was a flirt, but you adored it. It made you feel like you were still in the chasing part without the doubt of not being this type, and you could stay in this state forever.

“I love you,” you whispered, and Kevin placed himself in front of you, lifting your head with his finger under your chin, admiring your face as pure love adorned his pupils.  “I love you too Y/N, to the moon and back. I love you even more than all the stars in the sky tonight. Happy anniversary, love,” he whispered before taking your hand, lifting it to his lips to press a gentle kiss on top.

You shivered at the contact and Kevin drew you closer to him, lips connecting with your forehead before you started to walk back to his car. 

He was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

[chaoslynx]

hi! why do u ship yuesing? /gen

Oh hi! Thank you for asking so politely. To be honest I don't consider myself a huge shipper in general, since my attachment is usually more to characters individually and their overall dynamics with other characters than it is to ships? Maybe that's the aro in me lol. I actually don't think I ever wrote YueSing until I got a Tumblr ask with a prompt for it! I'm also I guess a multishipper? I think? Like I ship AshEiji but also ShorAsh and ShorAshEiji, and have written/drawn all of them. With YueSing, I think they work really well as a platonic or romantic pairing! They're both such interesting characters, and their dynamic together even more so.

I think for me, the big canon moment that suggests at YueSing is at the end of the series—specifically Sing's comment about not being able to bring himself to hate Yut-Lung. Up until now they've been enemies, allies, leader-and-subordinate, and maybe even friends? So there's a lot of context that leads up to this moment. Sing is fully aware of how much wrong Yut-Lung has done, as well as his uhhh general assholery, and ... he still says that he can't bring himself to hate him.

This definitely says something about Sing's opinion of—and even feelings toward—Yut-Lung. Now, of course, what it says specifically is up to interpretation, but I think that romantic attraction (or the potential for romantic attraction) is definitely a valid interpretation of that.

BUT, possibly more interesting, is the impact that I would imagine this line had on Yut-Lung. I personally headcanon Sing as the type of fourteen-year-old kid who has a bit of an admiration-crush on anyone who pays attention to him, and also anyone who ignores him. Soooo it's easy for me to imagine that he's had conflicted feelings about Yue for a long time. But for Yut-Lung? Yut-Lung, who I imagine has hated himself for as long as he can remember? The way I interpret Yut-Lung's character, he doesn't see any good in himself. He essentially says that all he can feel is hatred. So to hear Sing say that, despite everything, he cannot bring himself to hate Yut-Lung? Yut-Lung, who has hated himself for so much less than how he's wronged Sing? I feel like Yue knows that it would be totally understandable for Sing to hate him at this point. He's never shied away from the fact that he's done things that are morally wrong, things that hurt people. But this line of Sing's, at the very end of canon ... it's like he can see some good in Yut-Lung, even if Yue himself can't see it.

So yeah! I absolutely understand people who don't like them as a ship or who don't think they would ever work together, but I think their dynamic makes for an interesting basis of a relationship post-canon or in AUs. After all, even if Yut-Lung doesn't realize it, in the end he's just a sixteen-year-old kid who did what he thought he had to do. He's a kid. He deserves friendship, love (romantic or otherwise), redemption—all that good stuff. And maybe Sing can see that! After all, he's just a kid too.

[plant-flwrs]

I love your writing! Can you do a reader x fred where the reader’s whole family (like siblings) is slytherin except her and she’s in gryffindor and you can do whatever with it thank you!

rivalries as old as time // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: omg i’ve never written mean!george this was kind of scary hehe. n e way, hope u like it! thanks for ur request!

summary: Fred and George are usually united on everything, but Fred’s crush on Draco Malfoy’s sister is definitely something they disagree on.

(5k)

---------

You had never liked red, and as you fidgeted with your red tie for the fifth time, you felt an elbow to your side.

“Stop,” Fred Weasley whispered from beside you, sending a scowl your way, “It’s distracting.”

“Distracting from what? You have no intention of taking notes,” you said, looking at both his and your blank parchments in front of you.

“Distracting from my daydreams,” he said easily, leaning forward on his desk to rest his forearms against the wood, “I need to focus on them, they’re just getting good.”

“What’re they about?” you asked, hoping to sound rude. Fred looked at you in the corner of his eye, and he was regrettably forced to admit that your signature Malfoy smirk was insanely attractive.

“Oh you know,” Fred said, copying your actions to lean back in his chair, “ the usual. Trolls and Gremlins.”

The both of you slouched in your chairs, arms crossed, ignoring the awfully boring lecture Professor Binns was giving.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed by Fred. Your gaze drifted across the room, trying to find something entertaining for your crystal gray eyes to focus on.

Fred, meanwhile, was internally slapping himself. Trolls and Gremlins? That was so stupid!

He watched your blonde hair fall from where it was loosely tucked into a headband, and you brought a mindless finger to put the hair back. He watched your simple movements, entranced by you.

You and Fred didn’t get along. You are a Malfoy, and he’s a Weasley. But still, somehow, you both always found yourselves thinking of the other.

History of Magic was his favorite class, because of you.

You and Draco had crossed paths on the way to lunch, and he walked briskly over to you, dismissing some of his Slytherin friends. You paid no mind to their scowls and figured they felt so angry because Gryffindor was playing Slytherin next week on the pitch.

“Has mum sent an owl to you this week?” Draco asked, craning his neck a little to look at you. His growth spurt hadn’t struck him yet.

“Oh!” you said, beginning to dig through your bag, “Sorry, forgot about it.”

You pulled a small parcel from your bag, handing it to your brother. The two of you were nearing the Great Hall, where you would have to split and go your separate ways.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling an obligation to be nosy in your little brother’s business.

“Some ink,” Draco said lazily, tucking the package into his own bag, “it’s my lucky ink.”

“Why? Is it enchanted?” you asked, and then lowered your voice, “Is that how you get such high marks?”

Draco smiled at your compliment and shook his head no.

“No, I get those because I study,” he said flatly, a dig at the fact that you excelled more on the Quidditch pitch than the academics.

You jokingly narrowed your eyes at him, and just before he walked to the Slytherin table, you reached out and ruffled his gelled hair. His joking stature quickly turned serious, and you broke into a jog to get to the Gryffindor table and away from Draco. You watched him attempt to smooth back his hair, chuckling as you slid down on the bench, a few seats away from Fred and George.

Fred was hunched over a poorly drawn drawing that George pointed to continuously while he talked.

“If we took that one corridor, there's that curtain that leads here,” George said, moving his finger to the right, “and then we can easily get back in time!”

You didn’t bother to ask, knowing George wouldn’t tell you. As much as you and Fred would get into little arguments, George had it out for you. Despite being his housemate, it was a known fact that you were the target of his pranks. Last year, he had snuck into the girl's Quidditch changing rooms and stole your clothes. You had to beg Fred from where he stood on the outside of the tent to make his brother give his clothes back, and when that didn’t work, you waved your wand and said “Accio clothes”. George had never run so fast up a hill, and he still couldn’t escape your wrath.

You pulled a sandwich from the tray in front of you.

“Malfoy,” Oliver Wood said, catching your attention.

“Yeah?” you said, taking a large bite of your sandwich.

“Did you look over that play I sent you?” Oliver asked, referring to the crumpled note he had tossed at the back of your head during Charms.

“Yeah,” you said, chewing and fishing in your bag for the note.

You pulled it out and saw Fred looking towards you. You looked at him before returning to Oliver. You unfolded the paper and Oliver hunched over it as George had done down the table.

Oliver’s hands were all over the simple drawing, his words getting lost in your boredom. You loved Quidditch, but god, could Oliver be boring.

“What are you two talking about?” both of your heads snapped up to see Fred forcing himself between the two first years that sat across you.

Oliver handed him the paper, pointing at all the meanings of the symbols.

“This,” he finally said, catching his breath, “is how we’re gonna beat Slytherin next week.”

Your weeknights were spent with Oliver, both of you ranting on about strategies while also trying to get done some homework. You occupied a wooden table that was usually used for chess, but the board was moved over to the coffee table where Ron and Harry played.

Fred watched, nearly pouting, from his spot on the couch. He watched the way your light eyes would brighten at the words Oliver said to you, and how you would blush every time he offered you a compliment on your playing.

“Ready for practice tonight?” Fred said, sliding up next to you as you waited outside of Binns’ classroom.

“Yeah,” you said absentmindedly, picking at your nails.

“George and I won’t take it easy on you,” Fred said, his veiled attempt at sounding threatening failing.

“Oh, Fred,” you said, faking a shake in your voice, “you don’t mean that.”

Fred rolled his eyes at your teasing, following after you as you walked to your shared desk.

Both of you came down the Gryffindor stairs at the same time, dressed in your practice jerseys and equipment in hand.

You glanced at him and caught his eyes looking you up and down. You chuckled to yourself, and his face flushed red.

You walked through the portrait hole with Oliver, and Fred watched you as he waited for George.

The two of them twisted and tossed their beater bats from hand to hand as they were perched on their brooms. You and Alicia faced off near the ground, hovering stoically. It was no competition, you were a better flyer than Alicia. She nearly had you matched in the power of her arm, but you still had the upper hand.

Fred bit his lip as you extended yourself to reach for the Quaffle. Your legs were the only thing keeping you on the broom, but you didn’t pay any mind to the unsteadiness. The only thing you thought of was the play Oliver had ingrained in your mind the past week. You repeated his critiques in your head and made sure to fix your grip on the Quaffle.

Alicia trailed after you, and you dove under Angelina to avoid her grasp. They were both trailing after you now. Alicia was nearly taken off her broom by a Bludger, and risking a glance upwards, you saw Fred’s triumphant smile. It was lucky that Fred was on your team for this practice because George had a nasty habit of failing to block Bludgers from hitting you.

Nearing near the goal post, you easily wound your arm back and sent the Quaffle right past Oliver. He slapped his gloved hands on his broom and sent you a proud smile.

The practice continued, and you weren’t hit with a Bludger the whole time, no matter how many George sent at you. Fred was always there to send them off, and send you a wink after he did it. You won the practice scrimmage, but Alicia put up a good fight.

“We have this,” Alicia said, beaming at you as she shed her heavy robes in the changing room.

“If we don’t I think Oliver’ll have an aneurism,” you joked, pulling on a loose t-shirt.

Angelina chuckled, and Alicia continued to beam.

“Really lucky Fred saved you from all those Bludgers,” Katie Bell teased from behind you.

“George has got it out for me,” you said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, but, Fred sure kept you safe,” she continued to hint, but it went over your head.

“Well yeah, we can’t have an injury two days before the match,” you said, closing your locker and shuffling the combination.

Alicia rolled her eyes, and Angelina laughed.

“Yeah, that’s why,” Katie said, giving up.

You walked up the path to the castle and saw a clan of black robes walking down the path. You saw blond hair that matched yours peaking from one of them.

“Draco!” you called to your brother, breaking into a jog to reach him.

“Hey,” he said, breaking off from his Slytherin teammates.

“Are you guys ready for the match?” you asked excitedly.

Draco huffed out a defeated sigh, crossing his arms.

“No,” he admitted, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his housemates couldn’t hear him, “we bloody suck.”

You fought the cheeky smile that crept onto your face.

“Oh, that’s rotten, Draco,” you said, beginning to walk back down the hill with him, “I’m sure you’ll play your best.”

“I’ll try,” he said, beginning to shoo you off, “go do your homework.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother and waved him off, setting back up the castle.

The day of matches was always nerving, but it was even worse when it was against Slytherin. It felt like everyone in the school wanted you, needed you, to beat them.

You and Oliver sat shoulder to shoulder, both trying to get the other to eat something for breakfast. You both claimed to be too nervous, and then the other would say “that’s ridiculous, you have to eat!”.

Walking to the pitch, Harry Potter trailed behind all of you. You watched the twins stop to reach him, each wrapping a comforting and brotherly arm around his shoulders. You smiled to yourself, slipping into the changing room with the rest of the girls.

The crowd was roaring. It had never been this loud. Various chants sounded off, and you soon realized that someone in the Slytherin crowd learned a charm to louden their voice. Hateful words about Harry spouted from the green stands, and boos countered the Slytherin statements from the blue, yellow, and red bannered stands.

Taking the field, you hovered in front of Adrian Pucey as you had hovered in front of Alicia. Alicia was much nicer to look at, you thought, and she was a better player.

Pucey was barely moving before you soared off with the Quaffle tucked under your arm. You avoided the Slytherin chasers easily, twisting and ducking on your broom with the Quaffle on you like it was a third arm attached to your body. Cheers sounded off as you faked out Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey, making them dive into each other and nearly sending them off their brooms.

You looked back, seeing Alicia wide open behind you. You glanced forward, the Slytherin keeper braced for your shot. You slowed, allowing Alicia to come to your side. You made a seamless pass to her that the keeper hadn’t noticed, and while he looked at you, Alicia came from the left and scored. You met her to high five, your arms outstretched.

Fred dove to you, following a very determined Bludger. His bat was nearly touching it, nearly about to send it off its path towards you. He was just about to reach it when you dove. Fred and the Bludger soared past you, and the Bludger redirected itself. Doing a loop, and seeing that you were no longer there, it went for the next best thing. Alicia barely had time to brace herself before the Bludger knocked her shoulder out of its socket. The painful injury only caused a short interruption, but she had some choice words for Fred and George for failing to hit the Bludger sooner.

After that one incident, the game continued in the same fashion. You and Alicia flew circles around the lacking Slytherin Chasers, and Oliver blocked nearly everything they sent at him.

The cheers from the crowd stayed consistent for the entire match. There was never a silent moment from any house. A renowned gasp fell across the crowd, though, as Draco changed direction quickly. He turned the end of his broom straight up, and with an outstretched hand, Harry was breathing down Draco’s neck. You watched your brother, his blond hair flying off his face, his long arms reaching out into the sky. You didn’t feel bad for rooting for Draco, because even if he caught it, you were so ahead it wouldn’t have mattered.

Draco’s pale fingers eventually did wrap around the snitch, and without thinking, he let go of his broom in the haste of catching the little thing. He began to fall from the sky, and you watched as his legs and arms flailed around him. His broom fell faster than he did, and you flew to him. You were pulling your wand from your boot when someone had beat you to it. Draco hung suspended in mid-air, his body limp. He raised his head, and you saw his ghostly cheeks flushed pink. He looked around, patting his body to check if he was still alive. When he realized he was, he raised his hand into the sky, showing the golden snitch. The green section roared with laughter, but Lee Jordan’s voice halted them.

“Just a reminder! The Gryffindor team still wins!”

Cheers from every other section sounded off, and you felt a pang of guilt in your heart. You could be a Slytherin, you should be a Slytherin, and here you were apart of one of the houses that cheered for your brother's losses.

You flew to Draco, watching as he tucked the snitch into his robe pocket. You hovered, and he climbed onto the back of your broom. You looked around to see who had saved him, only to see Fred’s smug smile above you. George hovered next to his brother, scowling at Fred. You watched Fred tuck his wand back into his robes, giving you a shy wave. You smiled back at him, a silent thanks for the help.

You flew Draco to the ground, where he collected his broom.

“You were great, Dray,” you said, clapping him on the back, “really.”

“We lost,” he spat at you, cringing from your touch.

“Yeah but that’s not your fault.” you consoled him, watching his face soften, “You did your job, you caught the snitch.”

Draco nodded at you, offering you an appreciative smile. You wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed briefly, then sending him off to his sulking Slytherin team captain.

Oliver was already running towards you, arms outstretched.

“Y/n!” he called, and you smiled widely at him.

“You were amazing, Wood,” you called to him, letting him envelop you in a hug.

He pulled you over to the huddle of your teammates, and they were all beaming.

“Wasn’t Potter this time, was it?” Lee Jordan called from his place in the spectator box, “Y/n Malfoy, the best Chaser Gryffindor’s got!”

You blushed wildly at Lee’s exaggerated praise, ducking your head as your teammates all cheered for you.

Fred and George came tumbling from the sky, landing ungracefully on the ground.

“Think this calls for a party?” Fred asked, and everyone’s cheers increased.

The common room was transformed into an even more red and gold haven. Maybe red was growing on you.

You were standing at the center of a huddle, everyone’s glasses raised. Oliver had just made a quite longwinded speech, to which you cut off with:

“Let’s drink to that!”

Cheers came from everyone around you, and you brought your firewhisky to your lips.

“I still don’t get why you did that,” George shouted at his brother, his words slightly slurred. George never could handle his liquor.

“It was her brother, mate!” Fred shouted back.

“He’s a Malfoy! And so is she! Freaks, the lot of them!” George yelled, and the statement trailed over the crowd and to your ears.

You turned to look at the twins, meeting George’s disgusted face.

You pushed through the crowd and put yourself between the brothers, bringing your face to George’s.

“What’s your problem?” you shouted, and he cringed away from the loud noise.

“You!” he shouted back, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“You’re a prick,” you said to him, sounding poisonous, “a drunk prick.”

George scoffed and brought a hand to your shoulder. He shoved you away, and you tumbled into Fred. Fred’s arms were around you before you could lunge at George as if he read your mind.

“Let me go!” you shouted to Fred, thrashing against him. George stood in front of you, taunting you. He waved his drink around, his drunken expression full of arrogance.

“I can’t!” Fred called out to you, then to George, “George, stop!”

George rolled his eyes and tossed back the rest of his drink. He stumbled off to somewhere else, leaving you in Fred’s grasp.

He felt your heavy breathing against his chest, your warm arms in his hands.

“You alright?” Fred spoke into your ear, his mouth moving against your hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine, you can let me go,” you said, wiggling from his grasp.

Fred hadn’t wanted to let you go, but he figured it would be odd if he kept you pulled against him.

“He didn’t mean that,” Fred started, but you waved him off.

“Yes he did,” you said. starting to walk away.

Fred reached out for you, pulling you back.

“I’m sorry,” Fred said, his eyes searching yours.

“Stop, Fred,” you said, pulling your arm from his hand again, “None of you Weasley’s have liked me since the day I was sorted into Gryffindor. It didn’t even matter who I was.”

Fred’s eyebrows furrowed at your statement, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but sympathy as he looked at your hurt expression.

“That’s not true, Y/n,” he started, but you turned again. He didn’t stop you that time.

Your mood was ruined. You filled your cup with more firewhisky, but at the bottom of each glass, all you could see was George’s disgusted face.

You had never done anything to the Weasleys, but that never stopped the redheads, or their friends, from sending you glares any time they saw you. You felt torn, torn by the unnaturalness of you being in Gryffindor, being away from your brother. You were torn by the fact that you felt weren’t even wanted by Gryffindor. No matter what you did, it was never right.

You remembered watching Draco get sorted, his baby-faced wonder as he sat on the stool with his legs crossed at the ankles. You had hoped, you had even prayed, that Draco would be sorted into Gryffindor. When that house was called out, though, the table of green erupted, and you watched your brother be swept off by your rivaling house.

George would never understand this, he would never see you as anything but a Malfoy, a pure-blood supremacist. You weren’t what your family was, you didn’t care about blood status, but no one cared.

Your anger seethed, watching George having fun, dancing with Angelina. Your grip on your cup tightened, and you wanted more than anything to go up to him and throw what was left of your drink into his face. You started over to him.

Fred intercepted you, having been watching you intently the whole night.

“You don’t want to do this,” Fred said, trying to calm you down as he blocked your path to his brother, “wait ‘till morning, then you can scream at him all you want.”

You could only shake your head, trying to move pasted Fred. You didn’t want to do this in the morning, you wanted to do this now, while the warm anger moved through your blood as fast as the whiskey did.

Fred’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place.

“Let me go, Fred,” you mumbled, teeth gritted.

“I can’t, Y/n,” he said, searching for your eyes like he was begging you to look at him.

“He can’t always get away with it,” you whispered, feeling your anger turn into sadness. You had refused to cry about George or anything he said in your first year, but it seemed that now was your breaking point.

“He won’t, I promise,” Fred whispered back, trying to sound reassuring. He found it hard, his heart hurting at the sight of you so upset.

“He always does!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking. Your eyes were still dry, but the pounding in your chest felt like a heart attack.

“Well, he won’t this time,” Fred replied, bringing his face to yours so you had no choice but to look at him, “I’ll make sure of it.”

You met his eyes, and he saw the hopeful glint in them. He offered you a kind smile, his lips stretched across his face. You nodded at him, relaxing in his grasp. You didn’t try to move from it, and you didn’t want to. You felt safe in Fred’s arms.

“Oi!” George called from behind Fred.

Fred turned, putting you behind his back and himself between you and George. You pushed and pulled, trying to get in front of him and to George, but he was too strong.

“Fred, when are you going to get over this?” George asked his brother, downing the last of his dark drink.

“Shut up, George,” Fred warned, trying to push you and him away from George.

“I’ve told you a million times, mate,” George started, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together.”

Fred was on top of George in seconds. He was wrestling him to the ground and putting him in a headlock.

You put a hand over your mouth, watching as they fought. You replayed George’s words, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together”. Was this simple brotherly teasing, or did Fred have feelings for you?

Katie and Alicia found you in the crowd, and you hadn’t even realized what you were doing as they pulled you off of Fred and George. You had grabbed Fred’s shoulders, trying to pull him off his brother, but they thrashed against your grip.

Alicia and Katie were guiding you up the girl's dormitory stairs, pushing you towards the bathroom as your face became green with nausea. Katie held your hair, rubbing your back as you emptied your breakfast and what looked to be an entire bottle of firewhisky.

You groaned, moving to rest your back on the wall in front of the toilet. Katie flushed the vomit, closed the lid, and sat in front of you.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her kind voice inviting you to tell her all about your insecurities and worries.

Alicia came in right at the part of you feeling guilty for not being Slytherin, and Angelina stumbled into the dorms at your conclusion of what George said about Weasleys and Malfoys.

The girls consoled you, assuring you that you had every right to be in Gryffindor and that George was just a prick.

“What’d you think he meant by that?” Katie said, testing your reaction, in reference to what George said.

“I dunno,” you grumbled, moving yourself to lay down on the ground. Alicia moved, grabbing your shoulder and making you stay upright.

“Could it mean Fred,” Alicia spoke like a kindergarten teacher, and your drunken self giggled as she spoke, “likes you?”

You gasped, your head falling back to hit the wall.

“No way,” you mumbled, and when Katie started giggling next to you, you did too.

When Fred finally made his way up the girl's stairs, bypassing the detouring charms, he heard loud and manic giggles coming from your dorm. He opened the door but found the beds empty. The door to the bathroom was open, and the sound came from there.

“Hello?” he said, rasping his knuckles on the door frame.

The four girls on the ground, all looked up at him with bright smiles, all saying at the same time: “Fred!”

Fred’s eyes went to yours immediately. He smiled as his name fell from your drunken lips, admiring the twinkle in your silver eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked, moving to crouch in front of you.

The other girls got the hint, and filed out of the bathroom, all mumbling something of good luck to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, still smiling.

Your eyes focused on his face, and you saw a nasty cut on his lip. It bled a little to the corner of his mouth and down his jaw, stopping just above his shirt collar.

Your smile dropped, and you brought a hand to his jaw, “Are you alright? You’re bleeding, Fred.”

He brought a hand to his lip, and when he pulled it away he saw blood. You pushed yourself to your feet, wobbling a little as you stood. You got a wad of toilet paper and wet it a little in the sink. You put your hands on Fred’s shoulders, telling him to be still.

He closed his eyes as you dragged the paper over his jaw and dabbed at his lip. Once you got the blood off, you got a dry piece of toilet paper and ran it back over his jaw again. He suppressed the groans he wanted to release, forcing his hands not to reach out and grab your waist. Once the trail of blood was gone, you used a finger to tilt his face up. You ran your fingers over where the blood had been, making sure you got it all. Fred’s mouth opened a little at the touch, and he sighed heavily. You let his face drop back to yours, and looked at him. His mouth still had some blood in the corner. You wet the pad of your thumb with your tongue and cupped Fred’s face. You brought your thumb to the corner of his mouth and swiped your finger across his lip. This time Fred wasn’t able to suppress the moan that came from his chest. Your hand still rested on his shoulder, and your hand still held his jaw.

“Did George do this?” you asked, fearful of his response.

“Must have,” Fred whispered back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, dropping your hands from Fred and turning your back to him, “I shouldn’t have gone over to him.”

“Hey,” Fred said, wrapping a hand on your waist and pulling you into him, “George deserved that. You should see the shiner I gave him.”

“I can’t let you fight your brother like that,” you whispered, putting a hand on his chest and feeling his beating heart, “you two don’t fight like that.”

“I don’t care. I’ll fight him every day until he gives you a chance,” Fred replied, bringing a hand from your waist to the back of your neck.

When he began to pull your face closer to his, you pulled back a little, still in his embrace.

“I can’t kiss you,” you said, a teasing smile on your face.

“Why not?” he pouted.

“I just threw up, it’s gross.”

Fred dug in his pocket for a second and pulled out a tin. It was one in the packaging of one of his products, but he assured you they had yet to be charmed to make people’s tongues swell.

“I don’t know,” you dragged, twisting the small mint in your fingers.

“Why would I prank you right now? You have no idea how much I want to kiss you,” he took the mint form your hand and put it in your mouth for you.

He was right, it was just a regular mint. The taste of vomit was gone, and after you chewed it, Fred barely wasted a second before he pulled you into him.

He kissed you hard, despite having a busted lip. When you ran your tongue over it, he winced, and you pulled back.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, bringing your hand up to it and touching his lip. His hand grabbed yours, and he placed gentle kisses to each of your fingertips. His hand moved to your palm, to your wrist, and up your arm. His mouth ran over your shoulder, which he pulled your shirt back from, and up your neck. His lips finally connected with yours again, and you let out a pleased moan.

Fred pushed you against the counter of the sink, and you wrapped your hands in his hair. The feeling of nausea hit you very quickly, and you pulled away from Fred. You doubled over, trying to will yourself from throwing up.

“Oh god,” you started, and Fred rushed to your side, “I’m gonna throw up again.”

“What? Was it the mint? Are you alright?” Fred protested as you pushed him on his back out of the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You threw open the toilet seat and emptied what was left in your stomach. Flushing, you closed the lid and sat on it. You pulled your wand from your waistband and unlocked the door. Fred came in hesitantly, and when he saw you were fine, he lifted you off the toilet by the hand.

“Come on,” he said, guiding you out of the dorm.

“I don’t wanna go back to the party,” you mumbled, pulling his arm closer to you as you held onto it.

“You’ve been up there for ages, the party’s long over,” Fred assured, pulling you down the stairs.

Cups littered the ground, and abandoned streamers hung from the ceiling. A banner Dean Thomas had made hung lopsided on one side of the room.

Fred pulled you to the couch, bringing a blanket over you.

“Do you want anything?” he asked, and you laughed at his nurturing actions.

You were about to say no, but the rumbling of your stomach convinced you otherwise. You had emptied everything you had eaten, and you were hungry.

Fred snuck to the kitchens easily, making the same trek he made nearly every other night. He brought you back some sandwiches, but when he slipped through the portrait hole, he found you asleep on the couch.

Your breathing was even, and your mouth hung open a little. You curled into the couch, tucking your legs up to your chest.

He put the sandwiches on the table next to you and moved your body to the left. He curled up next to you, pulling the blanket over the both of you. He spooned you, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and your hand found his under the blanket.

For the first time, you felt at home in the Gryffindor common room.

[buckybabybaby]

café d'amour

A/n: my entry to @firefly-in-darkness 's challenge. Thank you for letting me enter! I left it to the last minute once again, but! This time it's not late so... fingers crossed next time I'm early xxx

Proof read with a text-speech device.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 3537

Warnings: none! :]

Plot: Maybe covering a friends shift in a city park coffee kiosk won't be too bad if it means running into a certain super soldier.

coffee-shop sort of au, fluff and more fluff.

Masterlist

*****

The machine humming quietly in the corner of the tiny hut seems to be mocking you, a constant reminder of just how out of your depth you are. People who think working in a coffee shop, or in your case, a take-out kiosk, is easy, should try it for a day and see if their opinion changes. This is so far away from your usual job, safe and warm re-shelving books in the colleges library, but a promise is a promise, so you've just got to suck it up for the next few weeks and hope you don't mess anyone’s orders up too badly.

Peter is going to owe you big time after this.

When he'd asked you to cover for him in his small business, you had agreed without properly thinking about what time of year it is, and how cold the wind can be when you're stood still in it for hours on end. Two days in and your hands have aged about ten years from the combination of frequent washing and the icy air, and the layers of thermals you've got on under your uniform fleece and matching joggers are making you look a little rounder than you actually are, you couldn't care less though as long as you are warm. The water heater provides a little warmth, leaking through to your skin if you press up against it, but you've found the best way to escape the freezing gusts is to crouch down below the counter when the queues have diminished.

That's where you are now, half heartedly straightening the packets of treats, getting distracted by the many different types of cookies and brownies, and not keeping an eye out for potential customers.

“Hello? Is this self-serve or what?”

The voice startles you, so close without warning, almost like they crept up on you. Hopping up quickly, you hover your hands under the sanitiser and rub them together as you collect yourself and prepare your speech.

“Hello! Sorry! Hello,” You start again, marginally calmer, “Welcome to-”

That's as far as you get, not even able to ask what they 'fancy today?' before the customer interrupts.

“Just a coffee. Black. No fancy milks or syrups or anything, no cakes or anything extra. Just coffee, okay?”

Finally looking up from your now dry hands, you take in the man who has placed such a blunt order. He's attractive enough, the little you can see underneath his hat, something about him familiar to you, his tone definitely one you've got used to over the past day or so, though he's not anywhere close to the rudest person you've served.

You smile pleasantly, in the disarming way you've learnt. “Okay, just coffee, got it. And a name for the cup?”

He looks around at the lack of other customers. “Is that necessary?”

Laughing self-consciously, you say, “Probably. If it gets busy I'd hate for it to get mixed up. I'm new.”

“Ah.” He tuts. “James.”

“James, cool. That'll be a few minutes.”

As you grab a pen to write his name on the sleeve of a cup, he shuffles off to the side, adjusting his hat as he does, and when his coat slips a bit down his left arm your mind goes blank. He's not paying attention to you so your staring goes unnoticed as you realise why you thought he was familiar earlier, wondering how it didn't click when he said his name, but then again wrapped up in his scarf and gloves it's not surprising. You're guessing he doesn't want to be recognised right now, hence the use of his real, less known name, so before he can catch your mild freak-out you look away and messily scribble on the side of his cup.

Even a simple order can be a struggle for you, and now, slightly flustered from serving the Winter Soldier, you make sure to double check the measurements before you start, concentrating hard to make the greatest cup of coffee he's ever had. There's a reason this kiosk has a reputation for the best hot drinks in the park and you aren't about to ruin it by messing up the order of Captain America's best friend.

Breathing a sigh of relief as you place the lid on top of the perfectly brewed coffee, you tap it against the table to get his attention. “Here you go. The machines ready.”

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he swipes his card to pay then grabs the cup off the counter, murmurs something that could have been a 'thanks' and takes off along the dim path leading him deeper into the park.

“Well.” Huffing as you lean against the glass front of the booth, you watch his retreating form with a small frown. He wasn't anything like you thought he might. The media has built him up to be some sort of tragic figure, one to be feared and pitied in equal measure, but all you saw was yet another city dweller on a quest for caffeine.

At least now you have a story to tell from your time working in the coffee kiosk, aside from the ones about frozen fingers and half-spilt drinks.

*****

The next day he's back, around the same time in the afternoon, as the daylight is dying and the street lights are flickering into life, about an hour before closing. You're finishing up a complicated order for a group of friends when you notice him standing away from the small crowd, waiting for them to leave before he approaches.

“I want a coffee like yesterday,” He says, adding as though an after thought, “Please.”

“One black coffee?” You confirm.

He nods, watching closely as you locate the pen to write on his cup. Before you can even open the cap, he's butting in. “Why don't you have a name tag?”

You freeze, confused. Meeting his eye, you flush under the intense way he's staring you down. “Why don't I-?”

“You see, I have a very good memory, despite my age. I distinctly remember telling you my name is James, so imagine my surprise seeing my nickname written on my cup when I looked properly.”

His expression is not giving away any clues on how he feels about this invasion of privacy. Heart racing, you search for the right words to apologise, and convince him you're not some crazy stalker.

There's no chance to speak as he's continuing. “So I thought I'd come back today and find out your name, then we'd be even. But you don't have a badge on. Why not?”

“I'm so sorry,” You breathe, unsure what more you can say. “I swear I'm not a weirdo, I just recognised you yesterday and I must have written the wrong name by accident.” A beat of silence, then you propose a way to make it right, “How about free coffee for life?”

He laughs, a glorious sound in the crisp air, and your shoulders relax at the genuinely happy noise. “Aren't you new? Are you allowed to make promises like that?”

Wincing, you admit, “Probably not. But when I explain it to Peter I'm sure he'll understand.”

“Peter?”

You start working on his drink as you talk. “He owns this place. And normally works this shift, I'm only covering whilst he's away.”

“Oh.” The hissing of steam drowns out his next sentence, you only catch the last half, “-here how long?”

“Couple of weeks, maybe? Not too long hopefully. You'll have a professional barista back soon, don't worry.”

“I think you're doing fine.”

The words are spoken so softly, such a contrast from how you thought this conversation would end, and the shock has you fumbling with the finished cup of coffee, nearly spilling the scolding liquid all over your fingers.

“Careful.”

Taking the cup from you, his hand lingers against yours for a moment too long and you force yourself to stand up straighter and away from his touch. The last thing you want is to become a horrible cliché, falling for a customer after a few sweet lines.

He grabs a few napkins to wipe the cup dry, then looks expectantly at the card machine.

“I meant it, free for life,” You say, determined.

Shaking his head, he roots around in his pockets, pulling out a couple of notes and sliding them across the counter towards you. “Old fashioned money it is then. I didn't mean to come across as angry earlier, or yesterday, thinking about it. Sorry about the whole,” He waves his hand around vaguely, “Murderous vibe I give off, or whatever Sam calls it.”

He rolls his eyes fondly when talking about his team mate, and you giggle as you reassure him. “You didn't look murderous, just a bit like you might sue me.”

“Ugh.” He wrinkles his nose. “Not really my style.”

Your bank balance is thankful. “And to answer your question, I'm Y/N.”

Blowing on to the top of his drink, he takes several steps back, all whilst keeping eye contact. “Well then Y/N, I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”

“I'll be here.”

With that, Bucky waves goodbye with a wide smile, disappearing into the dusk as you wonder just how much trouble he's going to be.

*****

The kind of trouble you don't mind, you find out when you run in to him again the next day, a lot earlier than you imagined. In an attempt to keep yourself warm for the long hours stood in the open, with only a waist high counter between you and the frozen air, you've taken to walking around the park before you are due to start, so the heat generated by the exercise keeps you warm for at least a proportion of your shift.

The sunshine is deceptive this afternoon, doing nothing to raise the temperature as you wander around the edge of the lake. Lost in thought, a sudden shout from behind makes you jump.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait up.”

Turning around, you struggle to place the voice as you scan the few people also on this side of the park. None of them are even looking in your direction, let alone trying to draw your attention, and you're about to continue on your way thinking you must have misheard when a body nearly crashes into yours. This is not an image you ever thought you would see; the Winter Soldier panting to catch his breath after jogging up to you, all because you're on first name terms and not because you've suddenly turned to a life of crime.

“Bucky?”

At your bemused tone, his face drops. “Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. If you want to be alone, I can go, I just thought-”

“No! No, it's okay. I don't mind a bit of company.”

You share a smile, and he lets you take the lead back along the small track, winding its way between the trees and the water.

He breaks the silence a few meters along. “So, what do you normally do?”

“Me? Err,” You pause, trying to think of how to make yourself sound interesting to someone who spends his life side by side with superheroes and literal gods. Sighing in defeat as you conclude you're always going to be boring in comparison, you mumble, “I work in the library where I'm also a student.”

Bucky doesn't appear to think you're dull. “That's cool!” He says, like he means it. “I miss being in school.”

“So did I, so when I got the chance I went back. I'm a bit older than most of the students-”

He snorts. “I know how that feels.”

“But I'm determined to get my degree this time.”

“I'm sure you will.” He grins at you and you're inexplicably filled with hope that he's right. “And after? Do you know what you want to do once you've graduated?”

You shake your head. “Right now all I'm focused on is passing exams and submitting essays on time. I'll think about the future when it's closer.”

“That's fair. Nothing wrong with waiting to figure things out.” More reassurance from this relative stranger. You didn't know how much you needed it until just now.

“Most people say I need a ten year plan or something.”

“Most people are wrong. But,” He pauses, and you hold your breath as you anticipate his words. “Can I suggest if you go into business, maybe don't start off by offering life time free supplies at the drop of a hat?”

Two minutes in to this 'friendship' and he's already teasing you? What is going on? Turning your face away so he can't see your stupid grin at this turn of events, you really would believe this is some sort of perfect daydream if it wasn't for the all too real frozen mist clinging to your coat and the ends of your hair.

“I'll try to remember that, thanks.”

Dodging a puddle in the middle of the path, you're trying to come up with a witty retort to impress him when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“If you need to get that-”

“Oh, no. It's only my alarm to remind me not to wander too far from work before I need to start.”

“Soon?”

“Yeah.”

“I'll walk you back, then.”

Not wanting to leave his side quite yet, you let him accompany you back through the trees, but you refuse his offer to carry you across a muddy part of the path where the stream has burst it's banks. Flushing as he laughs at your careful steps, you manage to get across without completely ruining your shoes, informing him you've learnt the hard way that these trails aren't exactly 'white trainer friendly' as the kiosk looms into view.

Relieving the worker from the morning shift, you rearrange the counter back to the way you like it before any customers turn up, watching Bucky hovering nearby until you give him a questioning look.

He clears his throat. “If I came this way the same time tomorrow, would I bump into you then?”

The hopeful look he gives you would be enough for you that, even if this walk wasn't part of your daily routine already, you would have made it so in order to see his again.

“Uh huh. Are you planning too?”

“Whenever I come with Sam, we always end up getting recognised with the way he can't keep his voice down. It's nice not having that sort of attention. So if you don't mind?”

“I don't mind.” A patron approaches and reluctantly you turn away, sending a quiet promise to your new friend. “See you tomorrow, Bucky.”

*****

The days past so fast now they're full of work, both at the kiosk and in the library, trying to study, and, most importantly, walking with Bucky every afternoon. Some days the two of you talk the whole way, conversation flowing so easily you're amazed at how honest you are, like you've never been with anyone before, and other days you walk together in relative quiet, completely comfortable in each others presence.

Falling for him is the quickest and easiest thing you've ever done. Dealing with your feelings, however, might be somewhat harder.

With the lighter evenings comes the message that Peter is finally on his way home and soon you'll be free of your second job. It feels like a bolt from the blue, to be reminded that this is only temporary and in not too long you will no longer have an excuse to see Bucky.

You mention it to him a week before your last shift.

“Isn't that good?”

“I guess.” Your reply is short and unenthusiastic, changing the subject quickly to hide how heartbroken you are.

Time moves too fast, and before you know it you're greeting him on that last day, taken aback as he presents you with a small cardboard box, which when you take it, is much heavier than it looks. “Natasha gave it to me for you. Apparently it's really good for your hands. I thought you could try it? Now you won't have to wash them constantly?”

Scanning the sides reveals that it contains a moisturiser, from some luxury brand you've never even thought to try, too far out of your price range. “Oh, this is too much, I can't take-”

“Yes you can.”

“Let me give you something-”

Gently tugging your hand back out of your bag, he stops you from grabbing your purse by enclosing his gloved fingers around yours. When he doesn't let go, instead pulling you along and down towards your now usual route, you let him, gaping at the back of his head before coming to your senses and squeezing his hand in a kind of thanks.

“This is a very kind present.”

He shrugs it off. “It's nothing. When it's your birthday or something, then I'll get you a proper present. Presents, plural,” He emphasises as your eyes widen at the thought. “Nah, this is just one of the hundreds of products Natasha gets sent in the vain hope she'll provide the companies with some free advertising. Better you have it than it go to waste.”

It still feels like a gift to you. “Well then, thank you for thinking of me.”

“Always.” The implication of that one word would have been entirely missed if it wasn't for the panicked look on Bucky's face as he corrects himself. “I... I mean, of course.”

Stopping in the middle of the path, your joined hands cause him to halt too and the atmosphere grows tense as you stare at each other, unsure where to start. The minutes haven't stopped ticking down until you're due on your last shift, and with the implication that comes with hanging over you like a dark cloud, now seems just as good a time as any to bring it up.

You hesitantly begin. “Bucky, can I say something?”

Mutely, he gestures for you to proceed.

“Right, so you know today's my last day at the kiosk, at least until Peter goes away again, so, that means I won't have a reason to walk around here any more. Or I won't, unless...”

“Unless?”

“Unless I do. Unless you still want to come around the park with me, even if it's for no more reason than simply going for a walk?”

“I'd love that.”

The relief that flows though you as he agrees is almost physical, gripping onto his hand in yours just a little tighter.

Feeling brave, you dare to push your luck. “And if it was more than just a walk?”

It takes a moment, but then you see the realisation dawning on his face, a slow smirk appearing as he takes a step into your space. “More?”

You know he knows what you mean, that he's playing with you. That doesn't soothe your doubts though, hoping beyond hope that you're not misinterpreting his teasing.

“Yeah. More.”

Letting go of your hand in order to bring one arm around your waist and pull you closer, your own come to rest against his lapels as he dips his head down.

“I think I'd like more,” He whispers.

You swallow as his gaze slips to your mouth, sinking in his embrace as his lips brush against yours, so soft and brief it barely registers,

Moving back to put a bit of room between the two of you, his thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth as you pout sadly.

“You can have another one once you've finished tonight. Maybe. Or maybe you'll have to wait until after our date tomorrow.”

You frown. “Tomorrow?”

“Yep. If you're free?”

“Always.” Repeating his earlier phrase with a sly smile, you turn around to continue along the track, leaving him speechless for a second before he rushes to fall into step.

His arm slides through yours. “So, is it okay to wait for you tonight?”

“You've just kissed me and you're still asking that?”

“I'm just checking.” When you don't answer he presses, “Is it? I don't want to impose.”

'Too late for my heart', you think but don't say, not wanting to scare him off, instead nodding in reply and leaning into his side as you wind your way through the woodland path. The fear you had felt this morning at potentially having to say goodbye to Bucky feels like a distant memory, and as you watch the sunlight dance across his hair you realise you could never have let today be the last. You started this job reluctantly and now, instead of Peter owing you for the favour, it seems you owe him.

Peter doesn't needs to know just yet, you decide.

That usually particularly muddy part of the path has become even muddier after the overnight rain, and this time you allow him to pick you up in his arms and carry you across, feeling its finally appropriate now your relationship has changed. Setting you down on the other side, he presses a kiss to your forehead almost absent-mindedly, and your tummy does a flip as you take a second or two to admire his profile.

You sigh happily. So much for not becoming a cliché.

*****

Thank you for reading!! Masterlist

[softrozene]

Female Straw Hat Reader Crushing Headcanons

@bast-s requested: Hemloo! I have a lot to say, but first, how are you? I hope u are fine, you really deserved it! Sooooooo, I loved your headcanons about Ace, Law e Kid crushing in a strawhat! It ignited my mind and made me want to write more and more about it. I may be weak for headcanons and scenarios when the reader is someone's crush. I love all the courting and embarrassment lmao Now, since I said this, could I make a request? It is my very first one, so if I am doing it wrong, please ignore it! I am already happy if you receive my thanks for writing for us ❤️ I want so many things, but I will come back for them. For now, could you make headcanons/scenarios (what suits you best) for a female strawhat reader who is crushing in Law, Zoro and Ace Marco (so hard to choose between this two, but the pineapple took my heart), but have no ideia if they feel the same way? And in the end, she does something cute and elaborated to reveal her feelings (a small dinner, or call for a dance, or take them to a beautiful and isolated part of the island, what you like the most). She tries her best to stay calm and be clear, and make sure that the man understands he doesn't need to reciprocate if he don't feel like. Did I spoke too much? Yes, I did, am so sorry. I just hope you enjoy writing it! I huge thank you! ❤️❤️

First off- You are so very sweet omg and I am so flattered you like my writing! I am so happy to hear you enjoy them, especially the crushing headcanons. This was a very cute and fluffy request and I enjoyed writing it! I had fun with this and I agree- I am also weak for all the courting and embarrassment alhdfalfsfsa Anyway, I hope you enjoy these Hon!

Marco, Law, Zoro x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Technical Spoilers but I am extremely vague.

Words: 986

Marco the Phoenix -

Chances are you met him at Marineford or when the crew split up you were sent to where his crew resided after Marineford

It felt like you two had clicked immediately

It may have been obvious that you liked him, but you sure hoped not

You wanted to confess on your own terms and in the right way

But- During your time with the Whitebeard Pirates you could not tell if he even liked you back or if he felt obligated to feel protective over you just because your captain and his nakama were brothers

Nonetheless, you decided to give it a chance

One day- You invited Marco out for a little dinner picnic

That way you can eat and have everything set up for a little romance and away from his hectic family that would no doubt out you before you can utter your feelings to him

Though- When he actually accepts your invitation you can feel the nerves inside you ignite

Oh god you are so nervous

Yet somehow you manage to come across perfectly fine or so you think

Marco notices the way your cheeks seem hot and your fingers are shaky from nervousness- He knows where this is headed, and he is happy

If you are too nervous, he will lighten the load and actually confess to you first- If not he will be happy to hear from you at your own pace

He does return your feelings

HOWEVER, he does not want to become official yet

Marco is still grieving so he needs time to make peace with who he has lost and since you both are in different crews; he definitely does not want to make things official since anything can happen to the both of you

If you still feel the same way about him after you meet your goal in Luffy’s crew or your pirate adventure is done, and you want to join him then he will love to make it official

Trafalgar Law-

Oh boy- You probably have an instant visual crush on him when you meet in Sabaody

Then when he tags along with your crew after Punk Hazard your visual crush turns emotional

It is the same way with him- But he does not show it, he keeps his distance

So, you definitely have to be the one to tell him first because he does not want to risk ruining his alliance with Straw Hat over a girl

Since you need to be the bolder one you can invite him into town away from the crew for a smooth confession or better yet- Invite him to a small dance since the crew is always looking for some kind of reason to throw a party

A chaotic confession

It will not be as smooth but it will be just as effective

You invite him to dance while the crew is in their all-time high, running off of adrenaline, sugar rushes, alcohol rushes, and music

While they are occupied you ask Law for a dance

He can’t refuse since you look so dang pretty to him that and the crew will stop whatever they are doing and take his place in a heartbeat if they have to (They know it gets on his nerves, so he acts fast)

It will be you pretty much dancing while he stands there awkwardly until someone Brook plays a slow song for you guys

Then you can take his hand and guide him to a slow dance until he decides to take the lead

You need to use this time to confess then and there and- He of course returns your feelings after realizing how much he truly does care for you

Much like Marco, he would want to hold off on any official relationships at least until he finishes his business with Doflamingo

Then you guys can be official!

With Luffy’s permission (we all know Luffy would not let you leave though unless that is what you really wanted) Law will whisk you away to his own crew

Roronoa Zoro-

You do not know when you started to feel an attraction for him but once you realize you like him and a lot- It is quite too late to think logical

He can be dense, so you need to be straightforward with your feelings

I think you can pretty much confess anytime since you both are in the same crew, but it can go three ways:

1. He either does not want to get in a relationship because he does not really feel that way towards people and is only focused on his dream

2. Or he does not want to get into any messy feelings with a fellow crew member in the case that things go bad

3. But the best-case scenario is he fully accepts your feelings because he knows how strong and capable you are- It also really depends on your personality

But when you do confess, you do so with care and preparation

You know he loves sake so you have a special one set out for him

And you do so in the crow’s nest so the both of you can be on guard together or you can leave if he rejects you but make it easy for him so he can stay

Zoro can feel how nervous you are but he does not rush you at all

He takes your confession serious and he even feels a bit embarrassed (not ashamed more like he is surprised) that you like him that much that you did all of that for him

And because you guys are in the same crew and he likes you back, he returns your feelings at full

Though he has you tell the others you are official because he does not think it should be the others’ business, but he does realize it needs to be announced

[lizzy-williams]

𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

♡ Warnings: smut, language, bdsm...kinda?, dominate and submissive, drugs, threesomes. 

♡ Requested?: NO. I wanted to do this myself 

♡Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdpwA7bzrDE

Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees (slowed)

masterlist

((with this, I’m going more into depth of what this crazy kinky relationship is like, because I have a lot of ideas.))

HERE, read these first:

𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐮𝐱)

I N T R O  ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

✧ Okay, first thing’s first, there is a hierarchy that has formed. We all know Dominic is a little chaotic, and Colson is too, but Dominic is harder to control. AND YOU. ARE. BABY. So, we all know that Colson is the ultimate dominate. Dom’s in the middle, not as dominate, but will still fuck the shit out of you any day and not even say sorry. 

✧ They love when you’re compliant and submissive. They love being able to hold you like a teddy bear on their worst days (or fuck your brains out.) But they also love how innocent you seem. That is, until you get into the bedroom.

✧ They love how small you seem next to them, especially when you’re pressed up against them, clothed or not, their lanky arms wrapped around you. 

✧ So fucking protective of you. You love having your independence when the boys are away, but when their with you at any time, they become mama goose.

✧ They know your body more than you do, and that what makes it better. \

.

D O M I N I C  ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

✮ We already know that he’ll be the softer out of the two boys. He loves spending time with you, hugging and kissing and cuddling until your face turns blue. He loves your innocence, even if you technically didn’t have it anymore. 

✮ He loves when you go out together, just you and him. Sure, he loves Colson, but he also loves to do things with just you, it seems more intimate. Going someplace like an arcade or the movies will make his month for sure. 

✮ His favorite position will FOREVER be the cowgirl. He loves watching our breasts bounce as you use him to pleasure yourself. That is, until he’s done with you having control, then he just pushes you down, chest to chest, and drives up into you. 

✮ Loves to hear you. Like when he hits the perfect spot inside you and you make a noise only he can force you to make... he’ll be on cloud 9.

✮ Finds degrading names almost impossible to use. Slut, whore, etc. He finds the attraction appalling, and would never call you degrading names. That’s Colson’s job.

✮ More of a handcuff type of guy. Don’t get me wrong, he loves seeing you in ropes and ties, but he would much rather prefer to have you wear a set of fabric covered cuffs, taking you however he wants. 

✮ Loves when you suck his fingers, especially his middle ones. He loves seeing his heart tattoo appear and disappear between your lips. 

✮ You do his makeup sometimes, and he loves it. It’s something special you two share, and you couldn’t ask for more. 

✮ Some things that he says that are attractive as fuck:

n s f w:

- “I love your pretty little noises,”

- “Tell me how good it feels,” 

- “You feel so fucking good, love,”

- “Daddy loves you... daddy loves you so fucking much.”

s f w: 

- “shh, I’ve got you,”

- “So fucking beautiful, baby,”

- “I love you to the moon and back, babygirl,”

- “Such a sweet thing, aren’t ya?” 

.

C O L S O N  ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

♥ Colson loves you with everything in him. He’s never felt about this about anyone. Romantically, at least. 

♥ LOVES to spoil you. Whether it’s with clothes, technology, or a new collar, he loves to watch your face light up when he hands you something new... but lemme just tell you... your birthday is insane. 

 ♥ Likes wax play, not on him of course, but on you. He loves watching you squirm as the liquid turns solid against your exposed skin. 

♥ His favorite position has to be missionary. It might be simple, but it’s his favorite for a way more sinful reason. He loves to see the tummy bulge when he rams into you so deep, he can see the outline of his shaft inside you

♥ Hates to admit it, but he gets so weak when you praise him. He like communication during sex, and when you use communication to make him feel good, it drives him to the edge so fast. 

♥ Demands eye contact when you’re talking to him. If you don’t, he’ll lift your chin gently with his fingers. But if you’ve been a tease all day, he’ll simply just grab your jaw and shove you face first into a surface and take you right then and there. 

♥ You KNOW this bitch likes to fuck around with knives. Knife play is essential. He won’t cut too deep, and will take care of your wounds after you have your fun. Unless you pissed him off, in that case, he’ll leave you to clean them up yourself. 

♥ He hates when you’re a brat. While Dom may enjoy it, Colson hates it. Sometimes he feels so out of control of his life, and he at least wants to have control over one aspect of his life...

♥ Loves ice play. His pupils will dilate when you let out small whimpers. When it’s all melted, he’ll lick the water off of you. The heat difference between the cold water and his tongue feels so good. 

♥ Smoking weed after sex is a must, as long as you aren’t too tired, and on special days, you might even trip up on shrooms or LSD. Sex on drugs is different, because some senses are enhanced. 

♥ Working out together sometimes, which of course always leads to something else. 

♥ Spontaneous late night car rides. You’ll be on the couch chilling and all of a sudden you’ll hear colson rushing down the stairs, “Lets go for a drive”

♥ Some things that he says that are hot as fuck:

n s f w:

- “I know, baby, I know,” 

- “Look at me, princess,”

- “You love it when I fill you, don’t you...,”

- “ Such a good girl, you’re my good girl.”

- “Shhh, let daddy take care of it,”

s f w:

- “Come here, baby,” (in the context of you wanting a hug)

- “I can't get enough of you.”

- “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

- “You have my heart.”

.

[ Y / N ]  ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

☾ You are quite the little submissive.

☾ Even though you love to please the two, you also love to provoke them. You like seeing how far you can take it before they finally snap. But if they’ve had a hard day, you’ll be the most precious sub in the world. 

☾ You love being together all in one group. Sure, having one on one time is nice, but when you’re all together, your the happiest. 

☾ You have your independence, but you also understand that a portion of your life is up to the people you love the most. But you’ve consented, knowing they would never do anything bad to you. You trust them. 

☾ Even though you’re submissive, you love the amount of power you have over your lovers. With one strip tease, they’ll go from wanting to get a blow job to the one wanting to give you head.

☾ You don’t have a favorite. You love them both to infinity and beyond. 

☾ When you truly are submissive, you feel happy and taken care of, because you are. The two boys love you more than anything, and you know it. You’ll always be with them. 

☾ You take pride in your looks. Hell, if two boys couldn’t keep their hands off of you, you must have been doing something right. 

☾ Always wearing one of the boy’s sweatshirts. They’re big on you, and it makes you feel warm and cozy even when their away, because their clothing always smells like them. 

☾ Alone days in the house are hard sometimes. You miss the boys and want to be with them. But they have busy lives. Sometimes one will be away on a tour while the other one is at home, or one is filming and the other is home. Worst case? When they’re both away. 

☾ But even when they’re gone for a long time, you’re treated so well, and the boys will make it a point to send extra money to your accounts and flowers to the house to tell you they miss you. 

☾ You and Colson always have matching nails. 

.

.

B O N U S  ●○●○●○●○●○●○●

.

.

YOUR FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM:

DOM: Physically, you love his lips. Their so big and plush, and they feel amazing to kiss. They make your stomach do summersaults. And they feel amazing when they’re between you legs. But mentally, you love Dom’s hyper demenor. When you’re feeling sad, you love seeing the bright look in his eyes. 

COLSON: You love how tall he is. His size compared to you makes you swoon, and he can pick you up easily. His looming sky scraper body type is also nice when you fall asleep together. 

.

HIS FAVORITE OUTFIT ON YOU (NSFW)

.

✼ DOMINIC: 

IT might seem simple, but that’s the while point. The simplicity of it makes it all the more easy to take off. It’s stunning and easy to remove? He’s all in. 

.

✼ COLSON:

HE loves seeing you in something so lacy and subtle... the mesh makes it all the more alluring. And of course, pink is his favorite color on you. Pink is punk ladies and gentleman. Not to mention the collar... easier to pull you in. 

.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

HIS FAVORITE OUTFIT ON YOU (SFW)

✼ DOMINIC:

HE loves seeing you cozied up, because usually he’ll be the one to join you. He loves the feeling of you bundled up in his arms as you snuggle deeper into both the sweater and his arms. 

.

✼ COLSON: 

WHEN you aren’t patting around in one of his sweatshirts and no pants, Colson likes seeing you in the clothes he would see you in before you all got together. It just makes him remember why he loves you. Not for the sex or the power dynamic, but for you. Who you are. And your clothes reflect that. 

.

((ASK QUESTIONSSSSS!!! I would love to answer sommeee. Just be sure to put 2 before the question.))

Example: 2: Yes, Hi! I wanted to request, etc.

Thank you for reading :D

[whumpmatsus]

Hmm could do one where one one of boys has rough day, that leads to emotional overeating, and bellyache that they try to hide until they can't. Please and thank.

aaaaaa, lovely!

I went with Totty because it feels like I haven't written him in a while

and there's a tiny bit of Allmatsu, buuuut really it's mostly Cybermatsu :D

hope you like it, I had a lot of fun with it!

-

Most of the time, Totty thinks he does a pretty good job being composed at work.

However, that’s easy to do when the majority of the days are okay. Sometimes there’s a bad moment or two that he can recover from by the time he gets home; never before has it been an entire day full of nothing but bad moments.

Until today, of course.

It’s just been one awful thing after another. One of his brothers accidentally turned off the alarm clock, probably by hitting it or steadying themself against it while going to the bathroom… so he was late to work. When he finally got behind the register, there was already a decent-sized line and the early morning customers were irritable before their coffee. Nearly every single customer during his shift snapped at him in some way even when he was trying to be helpful.

His coworkers were less than pleasant, especially after a couple hours when one of them had to take over for him because he had to go pee. To make things worse, toward the end of the day he managed to smash his fingers in the cash drawer while closing it.

The highlight of the day was when he was on his way out and a customer wanted help. Company policy being that he wasn’t allowed to work in any way while he was off the clock, he told them he was actually heading home and pointed to one of his coworkers. Which apparently wasn’t good enough, as he was accused of being lazy and not wanting to do his job and told that the customer was going to talk to his manager and have him fired.

Is it any wonder he’s spent almost the whole train ride home in tears? It hasn’t been a great day to be Matsuno Todomatsu.

He feels a little better by the time he gets home, but he’s exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that went wrong. Part of him wants to find one of his brothers and bitch his heart out. The other part just wants to shove food into his mouth and pretend none of it ever happened.

Sutabaa allows employees to eat some of the cheap things for free during their break, which Totty doesn’t often take advantage of. He’d rather have a snack at home so he doesn’t have to scarf it down in ten minutes. Today, though, he managed to put away a chocolate croissant plus a couple of cookies, so he shouldn’t be hungry at all when he gets home.

And he’s not… really hungry. He just wants to eat something for the sake of it, so that maybe eating something tasty will make it seem like nothing went wrong today. The food during his break made things seem better for a minute while he ate it. All he wants is more of that feeling, to make believe it wasn’t such a bad day.

He doesn’t know where any of his brothers are, and he doesn’t particularly care. He doesn’t think he’d give half a shit if one of them walked in on him raiding the fridge and pantry as if he’s preparing to hibernate through the winter. They all stuff their faces at any available opportunity, so why would it be surprising to find him doing it, especially after a long day at work which none of the rest of them do?

It doesn’t even really matter to him what he’s eating, either. Just things that don’t require too much time between being in his hand and sliding down his throat.

There’s about a portion’s worth of takoyaki left in the fridge from dinner last night, so he finishes that off. Some daifukumochi that was in the cabinet, along with a packet of konpeitō. A bag of arare disappears pretty quickly, too. He doesn’t really know if the imagawayaki that was sitting on the counter was left for him or if it was a single treat that nobody had fought over yet ― regardless, he eats it anyway.

Each bite is a violent attempt to deny the shittiness of this whole day. It all tastes delicious, so he can lose himself inside it for a moment. What never really occurs to him is that every moment doesn’t last too long, and even though his stomach isn’t built for this kind of eating, he’s reaching for another snack as soon as the last one has dissolved on his tongue.

He throws packaging away as he goes, just to keep things neat. He’s just biting into his latest snack when someone else walks into the kitchen, and looking up, it turns out to be Choromatsu.

“O-oh, hey, Totty, you’re home. How was work?” He starts ducking into the refrigerator, then suddenly straightens up and gives his youngest brother a curious look. “… Uh. That’s my Big Katsu. Why are you eating it??”

Given that his teeth are currently sunk into it, Totty feels a little guilty. So at least he doesn’t have to fake the expression on his face. “Oh… sorry, Choro-nii-san! I’m just really hungry… I’ll buy you another one tomorrow.”

After a moment, Choromatsu sighs, evidently deciding to let Totty off the hook rather than fight with him about it. “Yeah, that’s fine. I was saving it, but if I haven’t craved it this long, I can wait. There’s other stuff I can have for a snack.” He opens the refrigerator door and pulls out a single mini carton of milk, then frowns. “Hey, wasn’t there some leftover takoyaki in here?”

He huffs as he closes the fridge. “Dammit. Osomatsu probably ate the rest of it while I wasn’t paying attention, the douche.”

He shakes his head and gets in the pantry for a bag of potato chips instead. “Guess these’ll do till dinner. Hey, Totty, you’re probably still hungry, right? Why don’t you share with me? I’m not starving or anything… half a bag would do it for me, I think.”

Totty’s stomach twinges suddenly, alerting him that he may have eaten too much. He’s not used to shoveling down this much at one time, though the realization that he’s uncomfortably full doesn’t stop him from hurriedly cramming the rest of the Big Katsu into his mouth.

And, honestly, it’s not like he can say no to the offer. He just told his big brother he was hungry and he’s been gulping down food at an insatiable pace. Thinking about the taste of potato chips sort of makes him want some.

Plus… Choromatsu is being nice by sharing, despite the fact that Totty already took one of his snacks without even asking. It would be mean to turn that down when he’s just trying to make sure Totty gets fed properly.

So he plasters a smile on and tosses the wrapper before stepping toward his older brother. Everything’s fine. “Ah, yeah… sounds good.”

-

Everything is not fine.

Dinner is beginning to be a struggle to get through. Totty hates wasting the food, but his thought is to put it away for later when his stomach isn’t actively trying to kill him. The pain is different to anything he’s ever experienced, a feeling like he’s full all the way up to his chest and so can’t get a decent breath in. He feels cold and clammy even though he knows he’s sweating. In short, it sucks.

The one thing he counted on was his brothers not noticing that he wasn’t eating anything. After sharing the chips with Choromatsu, he started to feel like he was going to burst. Even though the sensation quieted down a little bit, it never quite went away.

Now that he’s been faced with a table full of food, it’s even worse. His stomach is gurgling and swirling and nothing helps. Not taking deep breaths through his nose, not taking tiny sips of his tea, not focusing on any other thoughts. Nothing. It’s all useless. He thinks that as soon as dinner is over, he’s gonna have to go throw up. No ifs, ands, or buts; one way or another, he’s gonna be sick.

His only hope now is that he can ride it out long enough for everyone to head their separate ways so he doesn’t have to face the humiliation of admitting that he ate too much and hurt his stomach.

“U-uh, Totty,” Choromatsu speaks up suddenly, “aren’t you gonna eat anything? You were hungry enough to eat my Big Katsu earlier, I’d have thought you were really looking forward to dinner.”

Ugh. Did he have to???

Totty forces a smile onto his face. “Oh, yeah, I… I guess I’m just not in the mood for this stuff tonight, you know?”

The look on Osomatsu’s face could be mistaken for someone who’d just swallowed a lemon. “What?! But Totty, this is your favorite! You’re not gonna eat any of it? You can’t just skip meals like that, dude.”

“Yeah,” Ichimatsu hums thoughtfully. “You’re not gonna be any more healthy or attractive if you’re starving, you know.”

Geez. His brothers are so fucking embarrassing. Choromatsu is giving him some backhanded concern, Osomatsu is overzealous as usual, and Ichimatsu sounds like a Goddamn after-school special.

Karamatsu, meanwhile, is scrutinizing him just the same. “Yes, Totty, my brother… you look rather pale. You really should eat something!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Jyushimatsu practically launches himself over the table, holding a bite of food from his own plate between chopsticks toward his little brother’s mouth. “Here! Winding up for the pitch… batter uuuuuup!”

“Ughhhhh!” Totty leans back, even though any movement unsettles his stomach further. “You guys are ridiculous! I’m fine! W-what, am I not allowed to have just lost my appetite without every single one of my big brothers making a federal case of it?!”

All the others share a silent look, then there comes a unanimous, “Nope.”

He groans and leans his arm against the table. Shit, it’s getting worse. All he wants to do is run to the bathroom and puke, so that maybe he’ll actually feel better. If he does that, though, everyone will be on his case about how much he ate instead of how little he’s eating right now. He doesn’t need nor want a lecture.

Actually, what he wants more than anything is to just be taken care of and told that it’s okay, he screwed up a bit, it’s not the end of the world. That would require confessing to this stupid mistake, though… and he really doesn’t want to do that. He’s so sure that if he does, he’s just going to get scolded instead of comforted.

When he looks around the table again, he notices that Choromatsu in particular looks worried. “C’mon, Totty. You know we care about you. Osomatsu and Ichimatsu are right; it’s not healthy to skip meals.”

“Dammit, I know that, Fappymatsu! Just because I’m pretty doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” Totty scowls down at the food before lifting his eyes back up. “If I take one bite, will you all get off my back?”

He hates that those words just came out of his mouth. Even if it’s just a single bite, he doesn’t think his stomach will be happy with him. The idea of eating anything isn’t sitting well with him.

What else can he do, though? Just like with literally everything else, his brothers won’t stop bugging him until he caves in and does whatever they want.

The others exchange a look and Osomatsu shrugs. “Yeah, that should do it! Maybe after you take a bite you’ll realize how good it is and how hungry you are.”

Shit. Well, now he doesn’t really have a way out.

He takes as deep a breath as he feels he can, and collects a bite of food with his chopsticks. Although he isn’t sure how noticeable it is, it feels like his hand is shaking as he raises it to his lips.

Maybe it’s better to do it fast and get it over with. So, that’s what he does. The food in his chopsticks disappears in rapid time, and even though it feels like swallowing a spoonful of glue, he manages to get it down.

“Th-there,” he announces as he slams his chopsticks down. A hiccup squeaks out of him, followed by a fist pressed to his mouth, then he glares around the table at his brothers. “Ha… happy now? God, you guys are… you’re such… such…”

His stomach roils aggressively, almost like he’s just been punched in the gut. He cuts himself off with a loud, painful belch… and whines softly, because he knows what’s coming next. There’s no possible way he can stop it, nor can he get up fast enough to make it to the bathroom.

He tries to clap his other hand over his mouth in some childish belief that if he just blocks the exit, so to speak, he won’t be sick. Predictably, it doesn’t work.

Only a second and a couple of retches later, Totty has vomited through his hands into his lap. It’s perhaps more than a little ironic that his attempt to avoid lectures and feeling shameful has led to something incredibly humiliating.

The tears well up almost immediately, and it doesn’t take long for him to be sitting here coughing, not quite knowing what to do except cry.

“A-ah, Totty!!” Someone’s up from their seat, grabbing him gently by the shoulders. It sounds like Choromatsu, he thinks. “Hey… hey, it’s okay. O-oh, no, no, guys, it’s okay ― yeah, Mom, Dad, it’s fine, I-I’ve got him. Totty, hey, c’mon. I’m gonna help you to the bathroom and we’ll get you cleaned up. Okay?”

All he can do is nod, and it seems like even the fact that he leans against Choromatsu, all streaked with puke, doesn’t bother his brother.

It’s a short walk to the bathroom. He thinks he hears one of the others getting up to clean whatever mess he’s left behind. He just concerns himself with getting into the bathroom, then with lifting his arms when told so Choromatsu can help peel the soiled clothes off.

“It’s okay, Totty. E-everything’s alright.” His voice is low and gentle as he manages to also get Totty’s pants off, hanging everything over the side of the bathtub. If he’s lucky, one of the others will come rinse them off so they can go right in the wash while he tries to take care of getting Totty situated on the couch or something. “I’m gonna take care of you. You just cry as much as you need to, as long as you cooperate with me, okay?”

Totty sniffles, doing his best to stop crying. This is so embarrassing. “O-okay…”

Eventually the crying tapers off a bit, to the point that he can breathe normally again. His mouth has a bad taste and his throat hurts; at least his stomach feels a lot better, though. He’s just so mortified that he threw up on himself in front of his entire family after trying to save himself from this fate.

What did you think was gonna happen when you ate something else after already being stuffed and nauseous, dummy?? His mind is exactly no help at all, unfortunately.

Choromatsu is careful as he tries to get his little brother cleaned. As soon as all his dirty clothes are off, he wipes a wet cloth over Totty’s mouth to wash off any remnants of vomit and helps Totty wash his hands in the sink. He holds a couple pieces of toilet paper over Totty’s nose so he can blow, which makes him feel slightly less gross.

Once there’s no more danger of new clothes having leftover puke dripped on them, he darts out to the closet in the other room and comes back with a pair of Totty’s pajamas. It feels somuch better to be in fresh clothes after Choromatsu gingerly tugs them on.

With all of that done, Choromatsu sets a hand against Totty’s forehead and gives a contemplative hum. “Well, you don’t feel warm… you might still be coming down with something, though. I think maybe you should just go right to bed. We’ll get you settled on the couch in the other room so that hopefully the rest of us don’t catch it, and I’ll get you some ginger ale or something, okay?”

The idea of all that sounds nice, sure. He feels a little guilty for not being honest, however, so… “Um, Choromatsu-nii-san… I-I’m not… I’m not sick. I… I think I ate too much today, and… that bite I took out there was just kind of… th-the last straw, you know?”

Choromatsu frowns. “You ate too much? You said you were really hungry when you got home. And all I remember seeing you eat was my Big Katsu and some of the chips.”

“I ate a lot more than that,” he confesses, rubbing at his teary eyes. “There was some stuff I had while I was at work, a-and… and I was the one who ate the last of the takoyaki. I was just going through the fridge and the cupboards for a while before you walked in.”

“Oh… okay, I get that. Why didn’t you just tell us you overate today instead of forcing yourself to eat?”

More tears bubble up and start rolling down his cheeks. “B-because… because I thought if I did, you’d all just lecture me and tell me, ‘Oh, you shouldn’t do that, Totty!’ The day was so bad already…”

The more he talks, the more tears fall. “It was just one thing a-after another! Work was shitty, everything that could go wrong did,and I didn’t want you guys harping on me! I-I know I fucked up eating a lot, but doing it just… made me feel better for a minute… like the day wasn’t so crappy, like I could pretend everything was okay because I was eating something good. So I just… d-didn’t wanna tell you guys… I-I know you’d say it’s bad for me…”

Quietly, Choromatsu pulls Totty up off the toilet and into a hug. His hand rubs calmingly between his little brother’s shoulder blades, shortly after switching to a series of pats. “Hey, you learned your lesson. I know you think we’d give you some big speech… and maybe you’re not wrong. But I’m sorry it felt like you had to hide it and suffer on your own. That’s not what we want! We just wanna take care of you. If we lecture like that, it’s just because we love you.”

“I-I know,” Totty mumbles into Choromatsu’s shoulder. “Are you… are you mad at me? For doing it in the first place and for not telling you?”

“Mad? No! No, no, no way. I’m not mad!” Choromatsu presses a brief kiss to the top of Totty’s head. “You’re my baby brother. How could I be mad at you for this? Just… you know… next time, come talk to us instead of going to the food. I’d rather listen to you complain for hours than have you eat yourself sick.”

He gives a cautious squeeze, somewhat reassured when Totty squeezes back. They stay like this for a few minutes, with Totty burying his face against Choromatsu’s shoulder and Choromatsu rubbing Totty’s back.

Finally Choromatsu lets out a sigh. “Just so you know… even if we lecture you a little, we’ll still try to take care of you if there’s anything we can do. But we’ll… also do our best not to lecture as much when you come to us. Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah… it doesn’t hurt that much anymore.” He mirrors the sigh and just sinks into his big brother’s embrace. “Can I still go lie down, though? In the futon?”

Choromatsu nods and pulls Totty up when he gets to his feet. “Yeah, of course. That’s probably a good idea even though you’re not really sick.”

“And… can I still have some ginger ale?”

“Yeah, I’ll get that for you after we get you settled.”

Totty is silent for a few seconds while they walk down the hall, then he speaks up again. “… Will you maybe stay and cuddle with me for a minute, too? Even though I’m not sick?”

Choromatsu glances down before chuckling. Does he really think he has to tack on that condition, as if Choromatsu won’t cuddle just because Totty isn’t actually sick? “I… o-of course, Totty. All you have to do is ask, even if you’re not sick.”

“Okay…” By this time they’ve reached the bedroom, so he stands aside while Choromatsu unrolls the futon. Before too long he’s lying down, and Choromatsu has both arms around him, gently stroking his hair.

He closes his eyes and nuzzles against his brother. “Thank you… you’re the best nii-chan ever.”

He can feel Choromatsu grinning. “Am I even better than leftover takoyaki?”

Totty pouts at the jab, but snuggles closer regardless. “Way better.”

[ranposlittle]

Hihihihihi! Could you write something with either Chuuya or Dazai or both where their girlfriend is rather shy and inexperienced and one day when they’re making out they make her moan for the first time and she gets really embarrassed and he gets really turned on and maybe it leads to him wanting to make her feel good and maybe going down on her?? Idk idk. You’re my favorite writer on here thank u

Genre: NSFW, Little Scenarios

Tags: Cunnilingus, Teasing, Dirty talking, I use the f-word once bcos Chuuya haha

▮ ❝ Gosh~ Thank you for a very flattering compliment, anon! ( ᵕᴗᵕ )✩⡱ Because of that, I’ll do both boys for you haha it’s absolutely my pleasure to write for you and I hope you like it! Enjoy! ❤️ ❞

He knew you're not used to being touched. It's evident by the way your goosebumps instantly rise up from your skin as soon as his fingertips make contact with them, the way that you would ever so softly shiver with every friction and the fact that your eyes are shut tightly, your quivering lips pressed together in an attempt to keep your stability. But that didn't stop him from teasing you.

He's in between your flimsy legs, hips gently grinding against yours as he pries your lips apart just to trap them in between his.

✰⁖ ⟦ 𝘿𝘼𝙕𝘼𝙄 𝙊𝙎𝘼𝙈𝙐 ⟧ ⁖✰

"You're so adorable," he whispered. "You're still so shy as if it's our first kiss."

"It- it's because... it's because you're ..."

"Because I'm rubbing against you?" He interjected. "It's so easy to turn you on."

His snicker almost sounded cruel as his kisses travel from your lips, down to your chin and then across the edges of your jaw. You tried your best to choke out a whimper, but it didn't just fly by through Dazai's vigilance; he is a fine detective after all.

He smirked against your skin. His dark eyes scanned the surface of your neck until he found the luscious spot on the back of your ears. In a flash, his lips latched on the thin skin, sucking it in harshly.

You sobbed out something in between a moan and a squeal, which seemed to highly entertain your mischievous boyfriend as exhibited by another low chuckle.

"So cute,"  he murmured. "You know, I can make you feel better. And I can make you moan so much louder than that."

Dazai slithered down between your thighs. A shaky hand reached up to rest atop your mouth as you watched him undress you with half-closed eyes. Dazai showcased his yearning for you by dragging his tongue in the middle of your folds begrudgingly slowly. 

Another strained moan encouraged him to scoop up your legs and rest them on his shoulder while he started to generously sip and drink on your pulsating moist sex. 

You can barely open your eyes to look beneath you from the continuous surges of pleasure that crash over you. You can hear his obscene slurping and moaning that is clearly exaggerated to provoke you further.

But, no matter how much you squirm, struggle and fight against the flood of your arousal build-up, Dazai was still able to demolish your defense by flattening his tongue and swirling small circles on your inflamed clit.

Your back forcibly shoot up and your hand stretched down to grab your boyfriend's soft wavy hair as your orgasm imploded within you; the shock waves and everything behind it collapsed over you in a crack.

Dazai lets you grind your sex on his face while you ride your climax to its end. Once your grasp on his hair relaxed, he made a few more languid licks before plainly giving kisses on your plump flesh.

Through your drifting consciousness, you heard Dazai sultry voice spoke something more of a promise than a suggestion that made your legs weak.

"I can just eat you out all day."

✰⁖ ⟦ 𝙉𝘼𝙆𝘼𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼 𝘾𝙃𝙐𝙐𝙔𝘼 ⟧ ⁖✰

“You're so hot, babe,” his voice was rough and warm against your skin.

It's easy to tell what kind of day your boyfriend had just by how needy he is for you and today, he must have had a particularly rough day.

He was groping on every piece of muscle that he get his hands on, his mouth closing in and his tongue licking on every spot of your supple skin.

"Chuuya, wait—"

Your plead was for naught however as Chuuya had already begun to undo your bottoms and promptly cupped the curve of your sex.

Such a delicious sensation elicits a loud and shaky whimper out of you. Chuuya froze for a millisecond, reveling on the reaction you gave him. His signature smirk quirked up on his lips, and he was tugging off your clothes shortly after.

"I'm sorry, babe," he said while wriggling himself in position between your legs. "I just don't have the patience today."

You tried but you couldn't hold back the series of moans that broke out of your throat as Chuuya enthusiastically lapped on your pussy. Your fingers gripped firmly on the brightly colored strands of his hair which encouraged his movements further rather than to hinder them as you prayed they would.

He hummed in delight. "You sound like it's your first time to get eaten out."

He sneered quite attractively, making your face heat up even more. You wanted to sass against his playful mocking but your mind becomes an endless void during times like this.

"Well, don't let me stop you." He slinks one long line of his tongue along your clit. "Go ahead and let me hear how good you feel."

Another sly smirk and Chuuya was off to a ruthless onslaught on your aching arousal.

Cry after cry, moan after moan. You've said his name in different melodies and tones but yet, the way that his mouth slurps and licks on your soft moist flesh never rested. Your legs are now trembling, your head jerking madly on every side and toes curling as an attempt to keep your composure. But Chuuya just knows what he's doing too well for your powerless efforts against him to work.

He recognized the oh-so familiar way that your thighs tensed under his touch as the outflow of your fluids increased. With a steady hand, his fingers pinpointed your bulging clit and made tiny revolutions around it, determined to push you off the edge.

You gasped as your pleasure sky-rocketed in a matter of seconds. The pressure of Chuuya's fingertips against your tender nerves increased the more you writhe against him. An enormous wave of bliss flowed out from your core and you brace for the impact.

Every single one of your muscles convulsed and then tense as your orgasm hits you like a missile. Your back was arched up and your hand clutched on anything that it could reach, in this case, your boyfriend's hair.

Your entire body quivered, your sex throbbing and your heart racing along with your labored breathing. Tingles run up and down your body and you know that if your boyfriend does something as small as a lick, you'll be sent flying up to cloud nine once again.

Chuuya's husky chuckle fell on your ears as you cruise down from your climax. He climbed up to meet your face and exchange your taste from his mouth to yours.

He gave you a smile once he was done and pulled you closer to his chest. You bit your lip as you contemplate what you're about to do next.

"It was my first time," your worn out voice sounded alien to your ears but you continued. "To be eaten out, I mean. I haven't- I haven't experienced it before."

"No fucking way," Chuuya pushed away to gaze at your face. "Seriously?"

The disbelief in his eyes made you giggle before giving an affirmative nod.

"Geez, what kind of men did you used to date before?"

"That's the thing. I really haven't been with a lot of people."

"So-" he scooted you closer to him once again- "How did I do? How's that for your first time?"

"Meh. Could use some improvements."

You were joking, of course. And although your answer enraged your short-tempered boyfriend a bit, you felt no remorse because it also guaranteed you a night full of pleasure as Chuuya insisted on perfecting his skills on you.

[mueritos]

agh tbh it’s a little disheartening to see u against mspec gays :[ i’m aspec, nonbinary, and a ply gay man, and the points u were makin don’t really say much? like, u used the recycled argument of “oh [microlabel] will make our oppressors hate us more so don’t use it,” if i read that right??

and bi lesbians aren’t a new thing, and they aren’t a singular phenomenon; pan lesbians, omni gay men, abro lesbians, etc though small in numbers we do exist. and as someone who uses the SAM in relation to being aspec, all the points u made against non-aspecs using it actually support them using it imo? (although not all mspec gays use the SAM at all), sexuality can be just as nuanced, complicated, fluid, and personal as gender. i get it doesn’t make much sense to you just lookin at it, but the same could be said of men who are also women, or people who are agender and pangender.

and ofc, just because some people using a label could be uninformed or “wrong” about themselves, doesn’t mean the label itself should be dismissed as a whole. you end up casting doubt on anyone who self-identifies in that way, which leads straight to identity policing. again, a lot of these arguments are the exact same ones used in anti-trans, anti-nonbinary, and anti-apsec circles. (and sorry if this is worded rudely, or just incomprehensible, writing isn’t always easy for me.)

hey! honestly thanks for this message, it has helped me sort thru my thoughts a bit. I will say that I never said that I think certain microlabels or identities will make our oppressors hate us, in fact thats the exact sort of rhetoric I work against. I also do want to say that I do understand and support folks like you mentioned, like those who are agender (I ID'd as agender for a time!), pangender, he/him lesbians, and she/her gays!

I suppose most of my hesitance for non-aspecs to use SAM to describe their experiences comes from what I have heard from fellow aspecs and even non-aspecs, and what I've heard mostly is that non-aspecs using the SAM model could perpetuate a lot of transphobia and homophobia, whether that is internalized or projected. I've listened to folks' experiences being non-aspec using the SAM as a way to justify comp-het (folks dealing with internalized homophobia), and also experiences of uncomfortable trans people being pursued by individuals who were non-aspec using SAM as a way to also display their attraction (examples I've heard were pan lesbians, a transman being pursued by one may feel particularly uncomfy because he may wonder if she views him as a woman). These are the examples of why I've just been hesitant for non-aspecs to use the SAM, and even then I do recognize that lots of. peoples' attractions and genders are complex, but I also feel they are all connected, and I'm just not completely convinced that one cannot influence the other. I am aromantic, but I am also gay and trans, and my attraction and perception of gender would not be the same if all 3 of these identities were not acknowledged. My attraction to men is heavily influenced by my aromanticism, and thus also influences my gender.

The thing is not that I don't understand it, I really do! The SAM is a great way to describe a complex relationship with attraction and sexuality and gender, I just worry that the need to label every single aspect of discomfort/comfort in terms of sexuality and attraction can lead to MORE confusion...I love that we have terms and labels to name what we are feeling as queer people but...I also worry it may just complicate people's journey with their gender/sexuality/attraction. There's a great video essay that explains what I mean better and uses mogai as an example. This is not me saying folks shouldn't use it, because to be honest, at this point I don't care. It's not affecting me so its like whatever. But I won't deny these are the thoughts I have when in context to non-aspecs using SAM.

This discussion in general is just also. A chronically online discussion and I doubt in IRL queer spaces it would be a problem because when you're IRL and queer no one gives a fuck what you do. So I use that to put this all into perspective and can just say now that I don't care what non-aspecs do, but again, I won't deny my hesitance as someone who is aspec and uses the Split-Attraction-Model, and who recognizes that it is something that mostly exclusively is used and created by aspecs. But yea, thanks for the ask! helped my brain work thru stuff <3

[panda-noosh]

If you’re accepting requests could you do a Draco Malfoy x Reader fake dating AU?

this has to be the stupidest thing you have ever done.

and you've done a lot of stupid things, which is why you were most surprised when draco malfoy asked you to join him at his parents annual christmas dinner.

pretending to be his date.

you said yes purely out of shock, not even giving yourself time to think the decision over. yes, draco was attractive, and you had known him since first year, but never before had he even showed the tiniest sign of being interested in you romantically. if anything, he showed the complete opposite, sneering at you any chance he got, trying to upstage you in every class possible.

but you said yes, and now you're standing in the malfoy manor, and you aren't sure what to do with your hands.

it's such a stupid thing to be wry of when you're surrounded by dark wizards, all of whom have probably been linked to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but it's the one thought running through your mind. do fancy, posh, rich wizards let their hands dangle by their sides, or do they fold them in front of them? do you go in for a handshake, or perhaps two kisses to the cheek? do you even say hello, or just scowl at them like how they seem to scowl at everyone?

"what are you doing?"

draco's voice startles you. you'd nearly forgotten he was there, standing by your side.

"nothing," you reply. "why? do i look weird?"

"you're flapping your hands about like you're trying to get lift-off."

you blink, awkwardly dropping your hands to your sides. but now they just feel too heavy, like anchors weighing you down, so you bring them back up to your front, try folding your fingers together like people do when they have lots of money and no sense of humour-

draco groans and grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers with his before you can protest.

"just hold onto me," he hisses, before a bright, fake smile flashes across his face. through your daze, you follow his line of sight to see narcissa malfoy stalking across the grand room dressed in all black, her hair pulled into a high up-do that looks like it needed some kind of spell to stay in place.

"mother!" malfoy exclaims. "how are you?"

"very well, dear, very well," narcissa replies, and you nearly melt at the smoothness of her voice. after listening to malfoy begrudgingly snap your name for years now, you had come to believe all malfoy's could speak only in snappy tones.

"glad to hear it," draco says, before turning to you. "mother, this is y/n. my date - the one i was telling you about."

narcissa's dark eyes land on you, and then it begins. you have to start performing now, because he's just introduced you as his date, and you're here to be his date.

you pull your shoulders back, grin and say, "nice to meet you!"

draco squeezes your hand, probably telling you to lower the chirpiness level a little bit.

you cough awkwardly and try again. "nice to meet you, ma'am. mrs malfoy. a lovely son you've got here."

narcissa raises a brow. "indeed. and i assume you're a slytherin?"

"yes, of course." you glance at malfoy. "slytherin supremacy, am i right?"

the words are like acid on your tongue, considering you're a gryffindor.

narcissa smiles, all tight lips and raised eyebrows. "yes. it's good to see draco has a little bit of common sense when it comes to who he courts."

you have to bite back a laugh; courts?

"well, what can i say?" draco chimes in. "there was just something about y/n here that. . . won me over!"

you can't help yourself. "it's the fact i'm better at quidditch than he is."

draco's hand tightens once again. "actually, i think it was that day you got a U in your transfiguration exam and you started crying when professor mcgonagall tried fixing the beak you'd given yourself."

"oh, no, i don't think that was it."

narcissa throws her hands up. "okay! well, you can tell us all about how you two fell in love when dinner is being served; i have other guests to greet. draco, kindly take y/n to your room until dinner is ready. i'm sure they must be exhausted after the days festivities."

draco nods before taking your arm and leading you through the sea of dark wizards, none of whom stop to say hello. you're kind of thankful for that, considering you have nothing to say to any of them; all your life, you have been told to stay away from the very people you are walking amongst, and you start feeling a little woozy.

draco leads you up a grand staircase to his bedroom, which is a surprisingly cosy room, with a single bed and a beanbag in the corner, painted emerald green. multiple quidditch posters are hung upon the wall, as well as a framed photo of some old man with the last name malfoy who looks as if he would step on a puppy if he had the chance.

you let go of draco's arm and wade into his room, running your fingers along the posters. "i didn't think you were allowed free will."

"ha ha," draco deadpans, closing the door. as soon as it's closed, he tugs his tie off and throws it to the floor, groaning in relief. "christ, i hated that."

you turn. "i did a brilliant job, i think. she'll be expecting you to propose to me pronto."

"you really had to bring up quidditch?"

you shrug. "i feel like i deserved that after telling her i'm in slytherin. i'm gonna have to do some grovelling to mcgonagall when i get back for that one."

draco rolls his eyes before flopping back on his bed. the springs creak beneath him, his long legs dangling off the edge. you stand in the corner, watching him with your arms folded; he really does look stressed out, with his white hair wild and the top buttons of his crisp black shirt unbuttoned, revealing a collarbone that has no right to grab so much attention from you, but does anyway.

he places his ringed hands over his eyes and says, "i just really hope this works."

"why?"

he looks over. "what?"

you step forward, wrapping your fingers around the black metal bed frame. "why is it so important that your parents think you have a partner?"

draco's cheeks burn red, and you know you've hit a point in the conversation where he is going to nuzzle back into his hidey-hole. you never questioned him when he asked you to do this, too overcome with excitement and confusion to do anything besides agree. now, however, you're here, in his room, and he looks genuinely distressed at the idea of this not working, and you're starting to wonder why.

"well?" you push. "i want to know."

draco rolls onto his stomach, buries his face in his pillow. "it doesn't matter."

"it does to me. i'm the one who's doing you a favour here."

"it's a stupid reason."

you flop on the bed next to him, face beside his own. he peaks an eye out from his pillow and narrows it.

"i want to hear it anyway." you poke his side. "tell me."

he sighs, rolling onto his back again, clearly restless. your shoulders brush, heads inches apart, and it would be so easy to elbow him in the cheek right now.

"my parents thought i was acting a little weird when i came home for half-term," he mumbles. "they were getting really worried, and finally my mother asked me if i was lovesick, and i just took the first excuse i could find and said yes."

you blink. "literally, only a malfoy would ask their son if he's acting weird because he's lovesick. what does that even mean?"

draco shrugs. "i went along with it the entire time, and finally just told them i had a partner back at school who i missed, and that was why i was acting weird. they believed it, and i've been in the lie ever since."

"wow," you breath. "so we've been technically dating ever since half-term?"

draco smiles sheepishly, which is answer enough.

you chuckle, staring at the ceiling. "so what was actually wrong with you?"

he pauses. "what?"

"well, you said you were acting weird. if you weren't lovesick, then what was the matter?"

again, even more silence.

you nudge his arm. "hey. don't just ignore me. that's rude."

"i was lovesick," he says, like he was trying to make that point obvious throughout the entire conversation. "that's why i was acting weird."

you stare at him, waiting for the punchline. you try to ignore the disappointment that slides around in your chest, the sudden urge to storm out. yes, draco is attractive, and he's a good friend, and maybe you're only here to test the waters, see if something really can come out of this, but you should have known better. this isn't some fairy tale. you're a gryffindor, and he's a slytherin, and that mix is just unheard of, completely disastrous.

"oh," you mumble, looking back at the ceiling. "that's. . . grim. who's the lucky person then?"

he stiffens.

"come on," you push. "you can tell me. i won't tell them, i promise. then i'll have to explain what we're doing here, and i'd rather keep this between us."

"you would?"

your head snaps to him. "you wouldn't?"

he shrugs. "well, i mean, if you wanted to tell people this was our arrangement, i wouldn't mind. i don't expect you to lie."

"draco, this entire thing is a lie. i'll be lying either way."

he purses his lips, and your heart thunders in your chest; this conversation is weird, and you don't like it, don't like the undertones to every sentence, the vagueness of it all. if he has something to say, you want him to just come out and say it, because you're not sure you can handle any more of this subtlety.

"so who is it?" you repeat, quieter this time.

he breathes in deeply, and then he reaches over and gently grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers in the same way he did downstairs when you thought all of this was just a bit of fun, that you were nothing more than a last resort.

"guess," he whispers.

you close your eyes, biting your lower lip. "i don't want to. i might be wrong."

"who do you think it is?" he rolls onto his side, pulling your hand to his chest. you refuse to open your eyes, refuse to look at him lest you break down completely. you've learned in your years at hogwarts not to get your hopes up for anything, not even something blindingly obvious. "y/n, tell me. who do you think it is?"

"crabbe?"

he chuckles, warm breath tickling your ear. "wrong."

"see, i told you i would get it wrong. i'm not good at-"

"it's you, y/n. you know it's you."

you exhale, slowly opening your eyes to meet his own. leaning on one elbow over you in the way he is, you can almost pretend you're back at hogwarts, not at the most uncomfortable place on planet earth in your opinion. you can almost pretend there are no dark wizards walking around downstairs, and that you and draco are just. . . together.

you bite your lip, eyes flicking down to his own, which suddenly seem so much more accessible. he catches your gaze and chuckles again, a noise that truly has the power to drive you insane if you let it.

he reaches over and runs his thumb along your lower lip. "do you want to kiss me?"

"i want you to kiss me," you reply, almost breathless.

he smirks. "why does everything have to be a competition with you?"

you shrug. "that's always how we've worked, isn't it?"

"yes, it is."

and then he kisses you, slow and delicate. he holds your chin between thumb and forefinger, but makes no attempt to guide you; he knows you're capable of doing this on your own. he wants to see what you do, what you're like when you're under his spell, and you can honestly say that you are, have been under his spell from the moment you started teasing each other back in first year.

so you kiss him back, slow and deliberate, letting him know that - to you - this is more than just some fake dating plan. this is real. this will continue once you leave this party, if only he wants it to.

and from the way he kisses you back, he wants it to continue.