#god thinking about what this show could be gets me SOOOO

[aplacefordreaming24]

Wawawa! This will be very long, I apologize!

What does your f/o's hugs feel like?

Like home. They're warm and they're safe. I can feel him next to me and I know that he's real and I'm real and that it's safe; it's okay. And I can just sit there as long as I need until I'm ready. To me, that's home.

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

Hmm. I like silly dinner dates! It doesn't have to be anywhere fancy, I'd be happy just going to an IHOP at 3 in the morning for a date. Or park dates!! A picnic or just taking walks around the place while we hold hands. Very simple things like that :3

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

I think he likes dates where we get to go to aquariums, museums, planetariums, etc. Places where he gets to watch me be in awe of everything and he has the chance to impress me with all his knowledge on whatever subject we're discussing. That, or more fancy dinner dates! Because I don't get to do a lot of anything fancy in general!

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

We both have a lot of songs that make us think of each other, so I will go off of what's on our shared playlist! The song that reminds me of him is "Furever" by PhemieC! The song that reminds him of me is "Sick of Losing Soulmates" by Dodie Clark!

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

Hmm, well! I'm only 4'10", and he's 5'9"! So while he's not like, giant, he's still pretty tall compared to me! I only reach his shoulder! Idk the actual math though!

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

I'd say about 3 at the start of the relationship, and with enough time, we got it to an 8! He can still be a little jittery around PDA, not necessarily for the public aspect of it, but for the actual physical affection. But he can get pouty if I'm not at least holding his hand <3

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

Is it cliche to say his eyes? They're such a pretty shade of blue <3 I'd happily sit and stare into them for hours if I could. Or maybe his voice? I love the sound of it, especially when he sings.

What do you think they smell like?

Hmm. Mint. Clean linens. Pine trees, surprisingly. Forests. He smells like winter. It's soothing.

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

I think it would be gift giving in terms of showing affection, and words of affirmation/physical touch for receiving affection! He lives off of praise and kind touch. I never pass up a chance to call him a sweet name or give a compliment, or press a kiss to his cheek/touch his hair. Anything to remind him I love him.

As for gift giving, I think it's a default, almost? Being surrounded by wealth for so long, around a lot of frivolous and materialistic people, he might believe that's just how people generally are. Except, I am horrible at receiving gifts. Worse than horrible. But it's okay, he will learn I want kisses and nice touches back! (And work on helping me accept gifts, oops).

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

Yes! It's very comfortable. He likes to be big spoon (is that too much to say?) and generally speaking, it's a bunch of comfortable blankets and being wrapped up in each other's arms. I like to lay on his chest and hear his heart beat while he has his nose in my hair. It's the only way I know how to sleep nowadays...

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

I think my favorite is how selfless he is, hehe! He used to do ballet, only because his little sister was too nervous to do it alone, which was soooo sweet of him! He's very flexible and still good at dancing, and it's fun to tease him about it hehe!!

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

Oh god, here we go again /silly. I have always described it as the same dynamic as Orpheus and Eurydice from Hadestown. A man who fell in love with a woman. Just two people who simply fell in love. One who can help the other see how the world could be, and one who can help the other see how the world is. And we'll fall in love, over and over again <3

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

He holds me...... He doesn't do much, though he feels a need to, I'm sure. But I really don't ask for much. I just wanna be held until I feel better. And maybe talk about it for hours until I'm over it, but he's there to listen and get whatever happened off my mind when I'm done.

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

It's the best feeling in the world <3

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

He does!! His favorite place to kiss me is my forehead/the top of my head. Or if he really wants to fluster me, he'll kiss my hands and fingers!

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

Yes, all the time!!! Specifically his cheek/neck/jaw!

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

Nap. Napping. Sleeping. Laying in bed together with no responsibilities for the day, just wrapped up in each other and being warm and happy? Sign me up, please. Napping together because we fell asleep watching a movie? Hell yes. I love naps. We deserve it.

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

Hmm, I can't think of a specific compliment, but he loves to call me sunshine/sweetheart! I am also considering the idea he likes to call me honey <3

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

My favorite compliment to give him is how selfless, kind, sweet, thoughtful he is! I don't think he realizes it or hears it enough. That he's much nicer that he realizes. I call him teddy/teddy bear a lot, but also my love, love, my prince, my knight, etc etc.

I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-

SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:

What do your f/o's hugs feel like?

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

What do you think they smell like?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE! SEEING THIS POST IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!!

People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar

[soupforsoup]

You'd think cobra kai is about breaking the cycles of abuse and toxic hypermasculinity that have kept you in a spiral of shame your whole life, and how holding someone you love up on a pedestal and ignoring their mistakes only limits you from self-acceptance in your own human flaws, and it is that but mainly it's just about how much Gay on Gay Violence four old men can commit before they either fuck nasty or kill each other

[unproduciblesmackdown]

speaking of bsol through speaking of xmas xtrav that like i'm so augh god hand over heart falling over (just like the bloodsong b/c it's the like conclusion of being Overwhelmed By Artistic Effect that then in the ideal version you may as well die) at the thought of the finale where you have the main plot conclude as that Story w/those Themes like ah but even then, the influence, the other the musicians now, that this whole time like yeah you have to do it even if you just keep building or die or were thwarted even prior to that b/c you didn't know you wouldn't be....but that then just like in the opening song Outlaw or sort of distillation of the theme abt being someone making art Last On Land or that at other points other characters have emerged as not really their characters not really a greek chorus but elements of the story helping to Tell It, here's Everyone again for the friendship song altogether & each with an instrument & like not even able to see it but pics & imagining & the enthusiasm & the Thematic Resonance like this is when you are pursuing these pursuits together like _o__ (splayed out facedown emoji) aaauuughhh ;;mm;; bsol finale with everyone showing up playing & singing & dancing the song celebratory finale it's all the Theme when the full cast of Characters had only ever all been together for the one standoff scene at the end & yet obviously We've known them all & everyone is outlaws which is a song like i'm already going sicko mode & this is just the intro, so yknow, The Conclusion, good lord find an iconis musical finale without that place for the celebratory outpouring of enthusiasm right amidst other feelings & situations but Good Lord Here's This in a story that'll always have been all about people's depths & heights & widths & breadths & variations & tumult & all the dimensions, people will have Brought It all over the place & it's like yes leap around together playing & singing this song together which isn't The Story but is such an extension of it b/c bsol has its show within the show quality still infused all in it & if this flurry of Actors Celebrating Outpouring We Put On This Show but still within the show you are seeing as an audience in this venue wouldn't have been part of the original plan with a whole [outside the show within the show] plotline like. embraces bsol holding it so hard my becherished

[readymades2002]

if i might bitch about work for a second: yesterday was hellishly bad despite being able to keep up with it and i found out that apparently our department made 4600 dollars yesterday which is making me angry beyond belieffffffff

[eosofspades]

Question for you, on the subject of SPOP ships: would you have been okay with Glitradora (essentially the poly trio) being a thing, had Nate Stevenson decided he wanted to go that direction? I'm just curious as someone who loved how the Catradora arc was done in the show.

(And for the record, I understand your indifference towards both Korrasami and CaitVi--the latter will need some more seasons in the oven to really flourish, while the former is severely hampered by the constant executive interference Nickelodeon pulled on LOK during its original run.)

if glitradora were made canon i would have eaten my own face (/pos) my god the CONCEPT,,, the DRAMA,,, the DYNAMICS,,,,, that would have been my roman empire actually

also agree w everything you say here indifference is a great word for it. caitvi i actually see the potential in them i don't dislike the pairing it just rlly isn't compelling to me. i actually felt a little,,, weird about it? it felt like it came out of nowhere to me?? which i know isn't true but something about it just strikes me as Rushed idk (vi is still one of my favorite characters though)

as for korrasami i lowkey feel bad hating on it bc i KNOW how much the network screwed over the writers about it, but like,,, man i don't even see the potential in this one ahgakjsdas. i will admit though a big part of this is just the general writing of tlok i felt wasn't great so the character dynamics seem sorta weak to me. i AM glad for what they did for representation in kids' cartoons though and i'm glad ppl are having a good time shipping them. the fanart is gorgeous also

[markedbyindecision]

i can feel house md rewiring my brain in real time

[twig---verginix]

swear to god i'm just gonna stop watching the endings to shows i like. good shows need to get cancelled on cliffhangers forever

[wistologic]

okay but is this not just bill talking about himself

like stan taking his father’s fez, bill took his own father’s top hat and made to reinvent himself…

this whole poem reads as bill trying to make it out that he’s soooo powerful that he knows exactly what stanley is thinking, but if he really wanted to get in stan’s head, why poetry? why not use direct statements, why use a method of expression directly tied to the feelings of the speaker?

“when your actions make it worse” he just wanted to show them the stars

“when they see you as a curse” is seeing believing?

“when you’ve lost track of your lies” LIKE COME ON??? IDENTICAL TO HIS THERAPRISM TRANSCRIPT

back to the poem, “And lucky stan—“

unlike stan, bill’s never won any of his bets, not fully. bill’s never got his family back. never won when the odds were all against him. he’s insanely jealous of stanley— it’s not fair.

“redemption from a life of shame” do you think he feels shameful?

“You think you left the past behind.”

“But trust me”

bill is always asking for trust, but here? when even his lies are lies? i think this one has twisted into the truth. he likes to think he’s left the past behind, too.

“I’M STILL ON YOUR MIND”

while also revealing bill may still be “alive” in stan’s mind, it shows just how much being defeated by stanley affected him… this conman, a horrible, cheating liar, managed to save his family. and bill cannot get it off his mind.

(there’s so much more i could talk about here— like bill screaming in pain right before this??? good god is that good angst material)

[g1rld1ary]

our names in the paper - footballer!james potter x fem!sports journalist!reader

wc: 11,151

cw: swearing, fade to black but suggestive moments?, smoking, slut-shaming, kissing

info: r and james are about 24, set in 2007ish solely for the romcom vibes. james is the equivalent of like David Beckham in his prime, all pics are for vibes only, not reflective of r's appearance etc

me: i've been working on this for soooo long i am so happy it's finally done!! if u couldn't tell it's very inspired by early 2000s romcoms and i am honestly so proud of it so praying it doesn't flop LOL

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"James, James! Over here! What's the defence strategy this season?"

If you had to hear James' name one more time you might scream. Unfortunately, you were locked in a room with nothing but that. Worse, you were part of the problem.

"Mister Potter, what do you think about your striker's goal-to-game ratio falling rapidly this season?" You called, begrudgingly hoping for a moment of the soccer star's attention. Fortunately (or unfortunately), his glittering eyes settled on you, singling you out from the room of hungry journalists.

"I think that you miss one hundred per cent of the shots you don't take," He said, smirk turning to something challenging, "And as long as my team is training and working together, I'm not gonna cry over a bit of spilt milk or missed goals. And, as far as I'm concerned we're still winning games, aren't we?" You rolled your eyes, scribbling down his answer nonetheless.

You continued the catfight of trying to get answers for your newest article, keeping the balance of vying for James' attention and showing him you didn't care for him personally, unlike the other journalists you were pushing against. The conference room was full of men and women who wanted to be James or be with him. Aside from the professional questions, there were certainly several invitations to the pub thrown around, and you were sure you saw one woman try and give him her cellphone number. You rolled your eyes again at that, James was nothing to fawn over.

He might be a big shot now, but you'd known him almost all your life. The two of you had gone to school together and had bickered through every interaction since then. James had always wanted to be a football star, and you a journalist. You'd never believed in him and vice versa, both of you taking every opportunity to tease the other or cut each other down. Maybe it was just clashing personalities, two people too ambitious to be friends. The rivalry had lasted past school, and unfortunately, the two of you often crossed paths in your respective careers.

The press conference wrapped up soon after your question, and you ended up lingering in the room trying to finish your notes. James was still over at his podium next to his coach, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and arduously texting on his flip phone. Seeing you hovering by the door he called your last name, sauntering up behind you. You rolled your eyes and braced yourself for the encounter.

"Potter." You smiled curtly, moving to leave.

"You don't have to call me 'Mr Potter' during the conferences, you know. James is perfectly fine, everyone else calls me that."

"Just trying to stay professional," You said through gritted teeth, aware his coach and a few others were still around you. It could cost you your job to snap at him.

"Was it professional when I was your first kiss?" He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back, feeling the plaster wall graze your back through your work blazer.

"It was spin the bottle and we were twelve, it's ancient history. And do you mind? I know you're some kind of god around here but I have a reputation to uphold," You whispered, glancing around anxiously. James laughed at your distress which only annoyed you further. Maybe he could get away with anything, but you had to fight for your place in your field as a female sports journalist, you couldn't afford to take it lightly.

You couldn't help the physical reaction to being trapped between James and the wall though, your breathing shallow and quick, face tilted up slightly to look at him. You felt a bit like prey, caught in the predator's territory and resigned to imminent death.

"Let her go, will you? She's just doing her job," Remus Lupin said, entering the conference room with his nose crinkled from the smell. You couldn't blame him, sweaty players and hungry journalists didn't make any kind of utopia together.

"I wasn't doing anything!" James cried, hands up in surrender, "Come on love, I was just giving you the scoop, right?"

"First of all, if you were giving me 'the scoop' right now I'd certainly be accused of sleeping to the top by all the blokes waiting out there," You gestured to the group of other reporters still lingering in the hall waiting for any scraps of information, "And secondly, I work for the bloody Sunday People, not the BBC. I honestly think they'd rather I just write about your 'dashing good looks' or a drug scandal than your games," You complained, falling back into the ease of conversation now that Remus was there. He'd been at school with the both of you, growing up to be a physiotherapist, but was always much more palatable than James.

Both men laughed at your plight.

"If you ever need a more detailed look at my dashing good looks just ask, sweetheart. I'd be glad to show you, you know, for your articles." You rolled your eyes at James' attempt to be charming, snapping your notebook shut.

"Alright, I think that's my cue to go," You said curtly, smoothing out your work trousers. "Remus, I'll return Dracula next time I see you; I'm almost finished." You remembered you'd had his novel for quite a while, sparing him a smile on the way out.

"You lend her books?" James asked incredulously, hazel eyes curiously following your figure down the hall. Remus just shrugged, patting James on the shoulder and attending to his actual job, checking up on the players after the match.

James was still hung up on the fact when he returned to the apartment he shared with Remus and Sirius, flabbergasted as he hung his coat on the rack.

"Since when are you two close enough to be sharing books?" He cried as he paced through the kitchen, "Have we not all been in agreement that she is stubborn and hard-headed and annoying and has been since school?"

"No," Remus shook his head, "You decided that, and I daresay she feels the same about you. I've always rather liked her."

James was unexpectedly dumbfounded at the realisation that you weren’t the common enemy he thought you were. Even Sirius didn’t seem to dislike you, always stopping for a chat when you were around the stadium and giving you extra comments with a flirty wink.

James didn’t need to think about you for another few weeks; his team hadn’t played one week and you’d been assigned other matches for the others — he read your very amusing pieces on lawn bowls and chess-boxing, partly because he knew you’d hate the assignment.

You were blissfully apart until one Saturday night. You were out with your friends and a few coworkers and James was out with his. He’d started in the local pub while you were at a fancy cocktail restaurant for Lily’s bachelorette party, however, your groups crossed paths in the depths of a nightclub.

Maybe you were getting too old for them, waking up with sore backs and knees after nights of dancing, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t give it a red hot go. And with a few cocktails in your system, nobody could convince you it wasn’t a good idea.

You'd been shaking what your mother gave you for the better part of an hour before it was your turn to get another round, telling the girls you'd be back before stumbling through a sea of sweaty bodies.

Some gross man who was definitely too old for you obstructed your path, grabbing your arms to make you dance with him. Your face crinkled in disgust of its own accord, trying to wiggle yourself free. He continued to encroach on your space, forcing you around despite your persistence. Finally, a man's hands landed on his shoulders, yanking him away and subsequently freeing you from his grasp. The momentum sent you tumbling in your strappy heels, right into something warm and solid. You cringed, having been there before. You turned slowly to meet your unwitting saviour, huffing when you realised it was James.

"Oh, fuck off," You grumbled, mostly to yourself, producing a quick apology to not seem totally impolite.

"Alright?" Sirius asked, revealing himself as the one who'd gotten you away from the creep. You shrugged, fixing your hair.

"Been better," You told him, preparing to leave before seemingly their whole team had surrounded you, all greeting you loudly. You weakly waved at them, feeling dreadfully underdressed and professional. You were used to seeing them in the stadium and press conferences where you were much more modestly dressed. The strapless mini dress wasn't giving you the same layer of protection.

"Right," You said when there didn't seem to be any more productive conversation happening, "I'm off to the bar then."

"Let me buy you a drink, to make up for the freak," One of the players, Frank, said. You smiled but shook your head.

"I'm buying for several, it wouldn't be fair. It's Lily's bachelorette." You directed the last sentence to those who knew her, the football and journalism professions having considerable overlap due to events and the never-ending scandals and interviews. James covered his face in mock-devastation.

"Not Lily! Have I missed my chance forever?" He moaned, earning some shoves from the rest of the group. You and Lily had been friends since uni, and you'd introduced her to the boys at one of the terrible house parties you'd endured over your three years studying. James had developed a thing for her right away (no one knew how much of it was serious and how much was for comedic value) and had been loudly pining for her ever since, despite her long-term relationship with Dirk Cresswell, an economist who worked in the building down the block from your office.

"I think you missed your chance the first time," You retorted with a snort, a little drunk to have any ferocity in your tone. You both made a face at each other, ignoring the laughter of those around you. You dismissed the group and danced away, shaking your arse over to the bar.

A few rounds later and you were not in your best shape. The girls had been absolute menaces, feeding you shots and deceiving colourful cocktails that actually held like seven standards in them, and you were certainly feeling the effects. You excused yourself from the group to find a loo, bile rising in your throat as you pushed past dancers, not even sparing a comment for James as you saw him.

That confused both James and his friends, becoming used to your insistent teasing over the years. He exchanged a look with Sirius, following you through the crowd and to the bathrooms.

He figured something was wrong when you burst into the gender-neutral bathrooms, not bothering to lock the door behind you. James and Sirius silently fought about who was going to follow you in and check on you; James found you insufferable, Sirius had severe emetophobia and would probably throw up himself if he had to be close to you vomiting. James rolled his eyes, it was his responsibility. Sirius clapped him on the back gratefully, leaving him to return to the others. James sighed, reciting some affirmations before he cracked the door open, calling out to you.

When you responded with a disgusting wretch, James slipped inside, gagging a little as he saw you leant over the toilet bowl, bare knees on the grimy tile floor.

"Alright?" He asked for lack of anything better, unsurprised when you replied with another gag.

"I feel ill," You said pathetically, head hung low in the bowl which James knew you would resent tomorrow. He laughed quietly, getting closer to you.

"No shit, idiot," His tone was light as he began to rub your back softly, making sure your hair was away from your mouth. You vomited a few more times, your body reacting in violent hurls as James tried to be both soothing and as far away as possible.

When your stomach was finally empty you slumped against the toilet, cheek pressed against the cool porcelain.

"Woah," James pulled you up to a sitting position, "That cannot be good for your skin. Let's get you home, okay?" You nodded petulantly, letting yourself be led out through the club, James telling Lily he'd make sure you got home (and congratulated her on the upcoming wedding).

"Can we get some gum or something? My throat tastes like vom." James looked down at you from where you were lodged into his side, legs shaky as you wobbled down the street. He sighed and steered you in the direction of a convenience store, picking out strawberry gum for you since it tasted better than mint, your words. Good you thought when he paid for it, the football star can shell out 2 pounds, makes more than you anyhow.

You chewed happily, stumbling down the pavement as James held onto you, keeping you upright.

"You're so muscly," You said, somewhat in a drunken haze.

"Thank you?" James laughed, patting you softly on the forearm he was holding. To be fair, you weren't quite sure if it was a compliment either. Your words were admittedly oddly nice but your tone made it confusing, drunk thoughts not completely translating to sober dynamics.

You meandered for a few oddly peaceful minutes, neither of you starting an argument or picking a fight. It was a nice break from normal, the two of you even sharing some peaceful small talk -- discussing a movie you'd both seen recently.

Of course, nothing good lasts.

"James!" A voice yelled from the other side of the street, a short man with mousy mannerisms. James groaned beside you.

"Peter Pettigrew," He whispered to you, trying to pull you along faster, "We used to be mates but turns out he was just using me to get team secrets out into the papers." You whipped your head around to look at him. Oh! You knew Pettigrew, unsurprising given you both reported on essentially the same topics, but he had a bad name even in your circles. He was closer to a paparazzi than a journalist, going for the cheap stories and ad hominem approaches rather than searching for any meaningful insights. Simply put, in an already sleazy career, Peter Pettigrew was the bottom of the barrel.

"Later, mate. I'm in the middle of something right now." James put his arm around your shoulder, better shielding you as he tried to make a getaway. The telltale flash of a camera reflected off the grey pavement, making both you and James whip your heads around to face Peter, looking hardly ashamed of himself. After a moment of shock, you both covered your faces, stumbling down the street as fast as you could manage. The damage was already done.

Suddenly you didn't feel as drunk, navigating the cobblestone streets with unanticipated nimbleness. James might've had the athlete's advantage but you were on home turf, leading him through local shortcuts and to the front door of your apartment building.

On the journey over you'd attracted a few more photographers all fiending for a scandalous picture of James, a small mob forming as you tried to punch in the door code despite your shaking hands. James was right behind you, front pressed to your back, holding his Adidas windbreaker out in a position to shield your face from the prying eyes.

You slammed the door shut, the nosy questions and camera clicks immediately muffled. James let out a long sigh, running a hand through his already tousled hair. Neither of you spoke for a while, processing what had happened.

"Make yourself at home then." You cringed as you surveyed the state of your flat; clothes flung over chairs and dishes still in the sink. Your only option for living alone was cramming all your stuff into what was essentially a shoebox, so any amount of mess made the place look chaotic.

"Nice place," James said and you immediately rolled your eyes, snatching up a stray bra strewn across an armchair. "No, I mean it! It's cozy. Very you." He gestured up at the colourful, mismatched glassware in a kitchen cabinet and the beaded curtain separating your bedroom. You blushed slightly; you didn't often take men home, your flat staying a girly paradise just for you.

You put on the kettle, comforted by the familiar sounds of water beginning to boil. James sat awkwardly on an armchair near the window, anxiously peeking out from behind the curtain every few minutes. His reactions told you the paparazzi were still loitering outside.

James took his tea gratefully, surprisingly still agreeable despite all the terrible things that had happened in the course of a few hours.

"Do you have a back exit or something? Somewhere I can slip out and get home?" You shook your head with a grimace.

"Only the fire exit, but that still goes out near the front. Otherwise we're surrounded by other buildings."

"You must be exhausted after everything. Head off to bed, I'll wait until the gits outside fuck off then lock the door behind me. We don't have to ever mention this again if you don't want." The orange lamp light made James' eyes look unfairly soft, highlighting the golden flecks amongst the brown. You steeled your nerve and shook your head.

"I'm not that bad of a host," You tried to joke, "Besides, don't you have training tomorrow? You're already up later than I'm sure you intended to be. I couldn't live with myself if I ruined England's star player by making him stay up all night, you take my bed and go to sleep." You were both very carefully trying to keep things light, not wanting to spend any more of the night miserable and fighting.

"Well, I'm not taking your bed, that's just impolite. I'll take the couch, if you're being so generous as to let me stay." He had a cheeky smile on his lips as he said it, both of you dancing around the fact that in any other circumstance James wouldn't have been allowed within fifteen feet of your flat.

"That couch? No way." You pointed at the teensy vintage sofa sitting in front of the boxy television. It had space for maybe two and a half arses to sit on it, maybe horizontally extended legs if you were short-ish, but there was no way the goliath James Potter was getting any decent sleep on it. "You take the bed. I'll survive the couch tonight."

"Don't be stupid, I can't sleep in your bed. If not the couch I'll take the floor."

"Speaking from a purely medical standpoint, I haven't cleaned these floors recently enough for it to be safe to have your face in such close proximity. Take the bed, Potter."

You bickered for a few long minutes, both of you trying to outdo each other's respect as host and guest, respectively. You didn't miss the irony that even when you and James were getting along you were fighting.

"I'm not letting you go without, that's final." You turned away to go fetch a pillow for your night on the couch when James said something you never ever thought you'd hear from him.

"Then sleep with me."

"Excuse me?" You all but shrieked, immediately cringing as you thought about your poor neighbours.

"Look, it's basically morning, we're both shattered and I'm sure your bed is much comfier than whatever alternative you're planning. We can even go full pillow-wall if it'll make you feel better." You stared at him for several moments, lips actually agape. Never in your life did you think James Potter would be asking you to share a bed with him, and never in your life did you think you'd be considering it.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes later and you were both ready for bed. You'd found James an old pair of an ex-boyfriend's long abandoned pyjamas, stuffed in a bottom drawer. They were slightly too small to accommodate all his muscles, the t-shirt sitting a few inches above the pants' waistband, giving him a very '90s crop top and exposing his happy trail.

You were almost definitely more embarrassed than James. You were in a similarly aged pair of pyjamas, a cartoon of Spongebob over your chest. You couldn't tell if you'd prefer to be in the lame pair that you were wearing or a cute pair -- no, it would probably look like you were trying too hard. Which you weren't. You didn't care about looking cute in front of James Potter, why would you?

He was already in bed when you'd returned from your skincare routine, face fresh and moisturised, and though you knew he was going to be there, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of James Potter in your bed. Tucked up to the chin under your frilly floral grandma sheets, he looked the picture of cozy.

"Don't bloody touch me, I mean it. I want to feel alone in my own bed," You snapped, sliding under the covers, pulling the doona similarly high up to your chin. You turned over to the centre of the bed to find James already on his side looking at you. You let it be for a moment, surprisingly enjoying the sleepover vibes you'd created.

"Okay this is weird now, the pillow's going up." You slammed a long decorative cushion in between the both of you, secretly smiling at the sleepy giggle James let out.

The first time you awoke it was hazy, still early in the morning with golden sunbeams streaming through your curtains. Warmth enveloped you, keeping you cozy despite the winter morning outside. You shifted to burrow deeper into your blankets when a groan came from behind you, startling you more awake as you recognised the feeling of muscular arms wrapped around your middle. It suddenly all came back to you, James walking you home, the paparazzi, you making an absolute fool of yourself. However, James was a portable heat source and extremely comfortable so you let yourself ignore everything that had led up to it, allowing yourself another few hours of blissful sleep.

The second time you woke up James was gone. That wasn't surprising given he definitely had early morning training, but you would reluctantly admit that it was a little lonelier in your bed than it usually was.

You didn't leave the house for the rest of the day, finally cleaning your apartment after much too long. Turns out all you needed was to be embarrassed in front of a guest to get you motivated.

Monday morning you weren't hungover anymore, but you were mourning the weekend that had passed much too quickly. Still, things were running smoothly enough; you didn't miss the tube and had snagged a seat, and your makeup was looking absolutely grand. You were absolutely thriving.

That was, until you crossed the threshold of the Sunday People offices and the jerks from the politics columns started bothering you, as if a Monday morning wasn't punishment enough.

"Meet anyone nice over the weekend, sweetheart?" One crowed from his desk chair, looking positively dickhead-ish in his too-small button-up.

"Or still on the clock maybe? We know you're always hunting for a good story." The combination of both remarks confused you, but you strutted past them with a quick glare in their general direction, your clicking heels producing enough attitude that you didn't need to say anything.

As you approached your own desk area, you had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that everyone was looking at you. You couldn't think of why, but subtly wiped the edge of your lips in case it was foolishly smudged lipstick.

You even swore you heard one of the royal writers -- an awful woman maybe twenty years older than you -- say something about your 'promiscuity' and 'unprofessionalism'. You didn't know where it was coming from. You weren't friends by any means but you usually just stayed out of each other's way, you didn't throw around insults at your workplace. You glanced down at your outfit but nothing seemed especially revealing, the same button-up and pencil skirt you always wore if you weren't doing field work.

You were really starting to wonder why everyone was looking at you when even Lily was sending you pitiful glances. You had just made up your mind to say something about it when your boss came striding towards you, anger emanating in a way which only middle-aged men can do.

"What is this?" He slammed a Daily Mail tabloid down on your desk. The office was dead silent. You looked down at it, wholly confused as to what it could be -- your last article was approved without any troubles.

THE 'INSIDE' SCOOP? POTTER GETS COZY WITH REPORTER ON NIGHT OUT

And there, right under the brazen headline, was the stupid picture that Peter Pettigrew took. The two of you out on the street, you tucked into James' side with his arm around you. Your face wasn't totally visible, but anyone who already knew you would recognise the figure and fashion.

You could feel your face drop as you read the article, a barrage of slut-shamey insults and reports of how intimate you and James were out on the streets of London -- all entirely false, of course. When you'd finished reading the piece the whole office was staring at you, waiting to see how you'd react.

"It's a lie," You said quietly, trying to stop your hands from shaking as they rested on your lap. There was a pregnant pause as your boss processed what you were saying, clearly confused. None of your coworkers dared to speak.

"Bullshit," He replied, face blooming red as he decided you weren't being truthful. "That's you and that's James, there's no denying that. The whole bloody country will be able to see you two getting cozy on the street. How do you reckon this reflects on me, having your name and workplace published alongside your completely unprofessional affair?"

"I understand that it looks bad, but it's not what you think at all. J- uh, Potter was just helping me get home after a chance encounter because I wasn't feeling well, then he hid at my place because of all the paparazzi. Nothing happened." It was a weak explanation, even you could tell, even though it was completely true.

The arseholes over in Politics were already sniggering to themselves and you wished you could have ripped them a new one. Instead, you were cowering underneath your brutish boss.

"It's your word against Pettigrew's, and only one of you's been printed. You've been publicly humiliated and we're getting bad press for it."

Your boss had left you with the threatening promise that the issue would be brought up with your superiors and the whispered opinions of every single person you worked with. You choked out an excuse to get out of the office, taking the lift up to the rooftop to cry.

You had peace for a few minutes, getting the most embarrassing of the sobs out alone.

"Did you actually sleep with him?" If it was anyone else you probably would have snapped, yelling at them for being so insensitive. Marlene said it with such earnest curiosity and sympathy that you turned to face her instead. You were met with her and Lily, your very best friends who you were feeling especially lucky to work with at that moment.

"No!" You told them the full story, about getting sick at the club, James just being polite and walking you home, and Peter Pettigrew's terrible betrayal. Both women listened attentively, taking it all in.

"I thought you hated Potter," Lily said finally, "How'd it get that far in the first place? Usually you'd have ditched him in the first five minutes of being in his presence."

"I don't hate him." You studied your hands intently, observing the peeling red nail polish you should have reapplied yesterday. "I think he's annoying and obnoxious and I've always hated that he's never believed I could be a serious writer, but I don't hate him. He has his moments. Besides, why would I waste energy on hating Potter when I could hate Pettigrew with all my heart?"

"What a snake," Marlene spat, lighting a cigarette as she got comfy next to you. You and Lily both nodded. Peter was not only now a backstabber, but he'd been becoming increasingly insufferable over the years you'd all been writing.

He started out quite nice and was in your periphery of friends in the same way Remus and even James were, but as he'd gotten the job at his shitty tabloid magazine he'd become downright intolerable, always twisting what you'd said both in official articles and when gossiping with other friends. You had all had enough a few years ago and stopped inviting him places. Clearly, he'd held onto the grudge.

At his own work, James was facing the same rumours, though not nearly to the same peril. As he rocked up to his home pitch for the morning training session he was received with catcalls and high fives which made him nervous. No one was ever that happy to be working out on a Monday morning.

"Thought you hated her, mate."

"Maybe all she needed was a good shag to get the stick out of her arse."

"Woah! Can we take it back a few steps and not talk about women that way?" James sent a look over to one of his teammates.

"Sorry bud," He held his hands up in surrender, "Thought you wouldn't mind since you're always moaning about her." James' eyebrows knit together as he tried to piece together what the men were talking about, finally giving up and asking for a plain explanation.

He was met with a copy of Peter's article, outlining the flirty touches and 'electric chemistry' the two of you shared. Scanning it quickly James felt his face screwing up in disgust. Never mind that it obviously wasn't true, what a disgusting violation of privacy. He'd only recently launched into the spotlight, working his way up into the Premier League and then team captain in the last few years. He still didn't know how to handle the fame, especially invasive press like this.

His first priority was setting the ruth straight for his team, explaining exactly what happened and outlining strict instructions not to bring it up the next time they saw you.

"This is going to be a lot worse for her than me," He said, ending the conversation there.

He was correct. Rumours only spiralled from Peter's article. You'd stupidly created Google Alerts for your name; as a journalist, it made sense to keep track of where your writing was being shared. One day of this nonsense and you had all alerts silenced, not wanting to ever visit the internet ever again.

Apparently, this alleged affair was the most interesting thing young British people had ever experienced. The football star and the sports journalist. As you packed up to leave at the end of the day you were feeling sick to your stomach, already overwhelmed by the attention you never wanted on you.

Your face blanched as you approached the dizzying glass windows, a mass of reporters swarming the door. You didn't have to think hard to know they were waiting for you. You retreated to the restroom where they couldn't see you to rearrange your exit appearance. Pulling your coat tight against you and scarf up to cover the bottom half of your face, you plugged your iPod nano in to appear busy (and touched up your eye makeup for the inevitable photos that would make it back into the news cycle).

Physically and emotionally prepared you braved the crowd again, moving through with a polite but firm shove, making yourself a path down to the tube. You only snapped at one particularly rude paparazzi, giving him an instruction of where to 'stick it' as you hopped down the stairs to your station.

You ate a haphazard dinner by your computer, obsessively clicking through the various articles (and now personal blog posts) that had mentioned you. Every link made you feel worse about yourself.

The articles themselves were bad, most of them degrading you and congratulating James. Some had even produced old school photos of the both of you, even a few from your uni days when James was just starting out professionally and you were attending similar parties.

The articles were one thing, at least they usually had to be somewhat impartial. The blog posts by James' fangirls were downright cruel, calling you a slag based on a singular photograph and dragging your name through the mud.

You were drawn from your doom-scrolling by your cellphone ringing, Britney ringtone at least drawing a smile from you.

"Hello?"

"Get off the internet," Sirius Black said from the other end of the line.

"How'd you know?" You exited the webpage dutifully, already feeling the weight of the world's ugly words lifting from your shoulders.

"I figured. First time being written about isn't easy."

"It's certainly making me grateful I've never been so bitchy in my articles," You produced a hollow laugh, "I don't know how people can say these things about someone they've never met."

"That's why we like you," He said, "Mostly, at least. You stick to the sport and not our personal lives."

"Don't inflate my ego, Black, it's just because I don't like you guys," You joked, your mood already blooming back to somewhat more chipper.

"That's what I've been telling him!" You heard Remus call from further away, probably the other side of their living room. Sirius made an offended noise.

"Is Potter there?" You changed the topic, swirling your mouse around the window aimlessly, too afraid to check your work or personal notifications.

"He's out right now, calling someone official -- a publicist or lawyer friend. He's tearing his hair out about this, he feels awful for you." Both men explained, bickering about who exactly he was talking to.

"Yeah, I'm noticing only one of us is getting called a slut." You rolled your eyes even though they couldn't see you, balancing your cell between your shoulder and ear as you made a cup of tea. Sirius' barking laughter crackled through the speaker.

"Don't worry about it, love, everyone knows The Daily Mail is full of shite. Besides, I got that all the time."

"Yeah, in school! Not when you have a grown-up job to save face at!" Sirius conceded, apologising lightly. You shrugged him off; he was not the target of your anger at all.

"James'll be back soon, do you want to stay on the phone?" Remus asked and you answered without hesitation.

"No. I don't want to talk to him right now. We'll just find something to fight about, it's not worth it."

"He wants to make things better," Sirius offered, "He feels terrible."

"Maybe when I'm not so angry at the world." You left them with the offered compromise, hanging up to pity yourself for a few more hours before bed.

You didn't end up being fired over the incident, your bosses couldn't find a good reason to cite, but everyone in the office knew you were on thin ice. Most weren't afraid to highlight that fact. You were really starting to hate the Politics guys.

You just tried to keep your head down, diving into your articles and trying to keep in the higher-ups good graces. Amidst the drama though you'd been taken off all football coverage for the time being, banished to the irrelevant 'sports' you never even knew existed.

The week had taken you out of London to cover bizarre rural events like cheese rolling and bog snorkelling; not uninteresting but a big change of pace to the Premier League drama you were used to.

It did take your mind off of James and the media shitstorm for a day or two though. Being in a small town was much preferable to London, at least for the moment. The paparazzi weren't going to make the drive to find you for a single day when there were plenty more interesting figures to find in the city.

Plus, you were meeting the most interesting people. Though it was no Premier League final, everyone around was so wholly invested and excited by the competition that you couldn't help feeling the same, despite your initial hesitation.

Throughout the day it was just you, your notepad, your camera and the few thousand people who came to participate and observe. You'd already met and interviewed the woman who made the cheese, the previous year's winner and you were waiting impatiently to see who'd prevail now.

The paper was paying for you to stay overnight so you could chronicle the post-event celebrations, and you'd never been so glad to be working late. The key players in the day, organisers and competitors had all convened in the town's old pub, basically heaving under the weight of you all.

You held up your beer with the others despite hating the taste, grateful to be included in their toast to the day. You laughed as you tried to down it quickly, wanting the taste out of your mouth as soon as possible without refusing such a kind gift. Holding the pint up in the air victoriously you accepted the cheers of those around you, including the lovely middle-aged lady who made the ceremonial cheese and the man only a year or two older than you who'd won earlier.

"Finally letting your hair down!" He laughed and you smiled back, trying to remember his name. A glance down at your notepad said Drew. "Can I get you another?" You hoped he didn't notice your eyes widen, not expecting attention like that, not when you were allegedly working no less. You opened your mouth to agree when someone else answered for you.

"She doesn't like beer, thinks it tastes like piss." You whipped your neck around at the familiar voice, mouth dropping open at the sight of James Potter.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, jovial politeness abandoned.

"You didn't remember that my family comes to watch every year?"

"Respectfully, why the fuck would I remember something like that?" You snapped, moving to leave and follow the much nicer Drew to the bar. James grabbed your hand lightly, stopping you from leaving.

"Wait, can we talk please?" You just looked at him for a long time, considering how much patience you had after a full day of work, then shrugged half-heartedly.

He led you outside and away from the crowd, both of you letting out a huff as you noticed the change in temperature.

"I liked your story on the bog snorkelling -- interesting stuff," James broke the awkward silence and you rolled your eyes aggressively.

"As if you read my pieces."

"I do!" He insisted, silently refusing the cigarette you offered. "I've read all your pieces, honest."

"But... huh? You're the one who always said I'd be a shit writer, I've spent years trying to get the negative internal James out of my head! You absolute dickhead!" You shoved his chest, turning back towards the door to return inside.

"Are you thick? I only said that because I fancied you!"

James' words rang heavy in the air, the street otherwise silent. You stared straight ahead of you for a moment, his words settling on top of you as you focused on the orange street lamp.

This whole time, this whole time, you'd been fighting the image you believed James had of you, striving to be better, never being satisfied, for nothing. This whole time you and James had been bickering and trading insults for nothing? And all his flirting... James' annoying charm and ironic compliments and innuendo-filled teasing were all genuine, after all this time? Suddenly your whole world had turned on its axis.

"What do you mean you said it because you fancied me? That is not normal!" You whirled around, accusatory finger pointed his way.

"I don't know! I thought I was supposed to! It wasn't cool to be a sap!" James argued back, running a hand through his already tousled curls.

"Jesus Christ," You muttered, "So what, you thought all my arguing back was just flirting?" James' silence told you all you needed to know.

"Come on, don't act like you didn't like it a little bit! As I recall you were always up for the fight, weren't you? You never avoided me or ignored me. Let's face it, you enjoyed it as much as I did." He stepped closer to you, breath visible in the cool air.

"I didn't enjoy it, what the hell are you talking about? Why would I enjoy trading schoolyard insults with some arrogant, idiotic football player who discredited the one thing I wanted most in my life?" Suddenly you were inches apart, heat emanating from both of you as you fought.

"Like you never said I was stupid for wanting to be a footballer? Face it, love, you're just as bad as me."

And suddenly, despite all your better judgement and every bit of sense in your head, you were kissing him. You didn't know exactly how it had happened, and if anyone were to ever ask you you would absolutely pin the blame on James but there you were, out in the middle of the street without a care in the world.

Every one of your senses was on fire, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his soft curls under your fingers. Everything about James felt like he was made for you, like all the years of you revolving around each other, playing off the other's insult was just a lead-up, preparation for the very moment you kissed for the first time.

James' arms around you were warm, strong from years of working out and protective like a weighted blanket. One hand wrapped around your midsection and the other firmly on your neck you felt wholly surrounded by him, isolated in your own bubble of James.

It was probably a bad idea, but you weren't overly concerned with addressing that fact in any rush. It didn't come as you tilted your head to bring him even closer, it didn't come as you said hurried goodbyes in the pub and collected your coat, it didn't even come as you closed the door to your hotel room, undoing the buttons to James' shirt like they had a personal vendetta against you.

The admittance only came as you lay entangled with him, faces millimetres apart.

"Was that a bad idea?" You asked, genuine self-consciousness mixing with pragmatic anxiety.

"I mean, I quite enjoyed myself, love. Did you not?" James' cheeky smile made you snort out a giggle but you sobered up quickly, hitting him lightly on his toned chest.

"Don't turn this into a joke!" You ordered, "Have we just fucked everything up?" James just looked at you for a minute, taking in the sincerity in your voice and the depth of your eyes.

"Of course we haven't," He assured you. "Do you like me?"

"But--"

"Ah! Do you like me?" He reiterated and you paused, nodding shyly. "See? You like me and I like you. We'll figure everything else out. Start slow; baby steps."

"Baby steps," You agreed, sharing his smile. It really only hit you how much you actually liked James once you'd said it, finally noticing how he might've been looking at you the whole time.

You sent James off early in the morning, both of you needing to make it back to London quickly. You had to get your article written up and James had training. Thankfully there was no awkwardness in your goodbye; James had to rush to meet his parents to drive back by car and you had a train to catch. The only moment of hesitance came as you said goodbye, waving at each other with a giggle as James hopped down the steps. He hesitated halfway, turning to look at you with the glint of mischief in his eye that you'd become very well acquainted with.

In a moment he was at the top of the steps again, swooping in to steal another kiss. You rolled your eyes to hide an embarrassing smile, pushing him back in the direction he came.

"Haven't you got somewhere to be?" You asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. James mimed twisting a knife in his chest but continued down the stairs nonetheless, giving you one last smile before he turned a corner and disappeared from your sight. You sighed like a schoolgirl then laughed at yourself, packing the last of your things to get home.

As you sat on the train, green landscapes passed you through the window and you felt your cell phone buzz from the minuscule pocket of your work trousers.

thinking of u :P <3

You grinned, looking out at the scenery so the people around you wouldn't be able to figure out your embarrassing secret. You felt like a teenage girl again, blushing over a text from the guy you had a crush on.

Everything turned to shit in a matter of hours after returning to London.

First, James' publicist made his statement. It wasn't necessarily terrible, but it really had no regard for you. No statement declaring you both on good terms, no coming to your defence or asking for the press to respect you. James looked like the hero saving a stupid drunk girl, and you still looked desperate for the most popular footballer in the country. You were decently sure it wasn't James' fault, but it did significantly dampen your lovesick giddiness.

The office was half-empty when you arrived, kitten heels clicking against the ground. You said a quick hello to Lily, still dutifully typing away at her computer. You followed her lead, exporting your notes to your desktop computer, formatting the piece and going through edits to have it ready for the next paper.

The sun was setting, sending orange and pink streaks through the sky when the door to your boss' office slammed open, echoing above the cubicles.

"You kissed him?" He yelled and you paled, knowing exactly what he was talking about but not how he knew. That problem was solved when he slammed the magazine down in front of you, no doubt just delivered by the skittery young receptionist running back to the elevator.

FACT OR FICTION? POTTER AND REPORTER CAUGHT SNOGGING AMIDST PUBLIC DENIAL

Fuck. That could not be worse.

The whole piece was essentially dragging your name through the absolute mud now that they had the confirmation there was something going on between you and James. The whole world thought you were sleeping to the top, or for the best scoop, and everyone hated you for it.

You looked up at your boss, words dying on your tongue.

"Please tell me that's not you," He said, grasping at the thinning hair on his head. You couldn't deny it.

"I..." You trailed off, searching for anything you could say to make it better. "I didn't mean to. And I'm being completely honest when I say that the first article was all bullshit. Things have... happened since then." You were already on the verge of tears. Even on an optimistic day, you couldn't have denied that this was utterly shit.

"Jesus." Your boss muttered, beginning to pace. "Look, I like you, you know? You do good work and you're never outta line, but I reckon the higher-ups are gonna be done with you. They wanted you out over the first article but I convinced them it was all speculation. This is proof and makes us all look bad that you're sleeping with someone you interview every other bloody week. Look, I'll do what I can in damage control, but I'd be bringing your stuff home tonight. I'm sorry."

How could he have just left you with that absolute bombshell? Effectively firing you, just like that? The tears had made their way up to your waterline, sitting there mocking you as you refused to let them fall. You submitted your piece and shut off your laptop, angrily stuffing your sparse personal decorations into your shoulder bag to get the fuck out of the building as fast as possible.

The paparazzi were waiting again, of course, like that was what you really needed. You pushed past them, making sure to land an extra hard stomp on Peter's foot, lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile as you heard him curse.

You sat on the tube, staring intently at your feet and trying desperately to think of anything but your current situation. You'd already been approached by someone who'd coughed out "Skank," which really hadn't done anything for your sour mood. All you wanted was to crawl into your bed and never emerge.

You wandered down the street between the metro station and your flat, hands shoved deep in your coat pockets.

"Hey!" Someone called and you glanced over on instinct, senses drawn by the interruption of an otherwise quiet evening. "You're the girl who kissed James Potter, yeah?" It was a girl still in her school uniform, probably sixteen or seventeen. You thought through your options quickly and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wicked. How was it?" She asked, chewing on pink gum. There was an aura about her that you liked, not judgemental like everyone else you'd met. If you were still in school you thought you might've been friends with her.

"Pretty good, I'd do it again." A cheeky almost-joke between the two of you, ironic given the shit that it had caused for you.

"We were talking about it at school. Pretty shit how they've treated you. Like they all wouldn't jump at a chance to get close to 'im." You liked the way that she didn't get any closer. Just the two of you standing face to face, divided by the empty road.

"Exactly what I've been saying," You agreed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"If it was the other way around, if you were the famous one, James would be getting congratulated for getting with you, not ridiculed by the mindless gossip columns. All my friends think it's utter bullshit, stopped buyin' 'em and everything." You could have kissed her if that wasn't tremendously creepy. In five minutes, this schoolgirl had vindicated everything you'd been saying for the past week in a way no one else had.

"Thank you," You said, with more sincerity than you probably should have had for a complete stranger. The girl just shrugged with a smile, nodding before continuing down the street, the sound of her leather school shoes growing quieter with every step.

You felt it in your whole body every time you thought of the interaction for the next few hours, warmth spreading through your chest as you were reminded there were still good people around.

Your other reminder of that fact came with the sound of your buzzer, the laughing of Lily and Marlene echoing off the stone of your building. As you let them in curiously they presented armfuls of takeout, the smell of Chinese food immediately floating through your flat.

Lily took the responsibility of setting out the food while Marlene took control of your little television, flipping between channels until she found a suitable romcom starting.

You didn't speak about what had happened, no one mentioned James Potter or the bloody Sunday People. Yet, there was an air of tenderness that let you know the girls knew exactly what was happening and how you were feeling about it.

Still, there was something bothering you. You couldn't give it a name immediately, only a tugging in your stomach while the girls were entertaining you, but persistent nonetheless.

It wasn't until you were all crammed into your bed, the other two peacefully asleep, that you could identify the sensation. It was an overwhelming desire, a need to write that you hadn't felt in ages. It was the same feeling that had pushed you to be a journalist in the first place, an inspiration you typically only felt watching a magical soccer final.

You crept out of your bedroom, switching on your computer at the kitchen table, squinting at the aggressive blue light. And when a blank Word document appeared before you, you started writing. Obsessively, feverishly, words poured out of you at a rate that hadn't happened since you'd started at Sunday People.

The words of the school girl fresh in your mind, you started an article vastly different from your usual kind. Instead of strategies and highlights you dissected your own experience of the past week, saying everything you hadn't let yourself unload to the paparazzi outside your office (though with fewer curse words than they would have received). It could have been minutes or hours that you were writing and you wouldn't have noticed, eyes glued on the screen in front of you.

You didn't realise you'd fallen asleep until Lily woke you gently with a hand on your shoulder, offering a steaming mug of tea. It was light outside, the world already up and awake. You were glad it was a weekend as the girls didn't need to rush off to work, cooking a simple breakfast for you all to share.

"What've you written?" Marlene asked, the second part of her sentence unnecessary: since you don't have a job to write for. You shrugged, taking a bite of some eggs.

"Just something I had to get off my chest. Might see if I can sell it to someone to tide me over 'til I figure out what I'm doing with my life."

"Can we read?" You made a 'go ahead' gesture, the computer already open to the screen.

A WOMAN'S UNWILLING WEEK IN THE PUBLIC EYE:

How a woman always loses.

You sat in mild discomfort as Lily and Marlene read your piece in silence, anxiously awaiting their reactions. They weren't what you were expecting.

When they turned back to face you, Lily had tears in her eyes, red tones brought out in her skin. Even Marlene looked uncharacteristically moved, not at all the reaction you were expecting. Firstly, it was completely unedited so you suspected it was somewhat of a mess from your midnight haze. Secondly, it was more of a vent than anything, getting your hatred for invasive paparazzi off your chest. You thought you'd all laugh about it then move on with your days.

"Lils, what's wrong?" You didn't mean to laugh, it was more out of surprise than anything else.

"It's just, it's so raw and real. It's so unfair," She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

"Jesus, you don't have to cry," You said lightly, "I'm fine! I hated that bloody place anyway."

"That's not the point," Marlene pointed out, "And Lily's right, this is really confronting stuff. It's great."

"Thanks," You mumbled, studying a lamp for something to do.

"Can we talk about James?" Your head snapped back to look at her.

"What about him?"

"Clearly there's been some... developments in your relationship, which we don't have to talk about--"

"Yet," Marlene interrupted.

"The point is that it looks like there's feelings involved now. What are you doing about them? Because if you publish that, it's putting everything out there, and even I can't tell how you feel about James right now," Lily finished.

"I don't want to talk to him," You said quickly, "I know it's not his fault but I can't think about him without getting mad. It's like I wrote; he ends up fine while I lose my job over one kiss."

"Understandable," Marlene nodded, "But if I know James at all, he'll be going crazy every minute that you ignore him."

You had much to consider when the girls left. The state of your career, your feelings for James, everything felt too big and overwhelming to make any decisions about. So, you took a nap.

The rest of your weekend was spent sending your then-edited article to as many newspapers and blogs as you could and hiding out in your flat, dodging James' calls.

Unfortunately, you liked him. You'd figured out that much. More unfortunately, he hadn't done anything to help you out in all this mess, benefiting from the press in a way that only England's favourite footballer could.

On Monday morning your piece was published. Not the biggest or most reputable newspaper, if your name hadn't still been trending it probably would have gone largely noticed. Instead, it blew up.

It had mixed reviews, of course, a tell-all so blatantly feminist would always attract its haters, but you were floored by the support it was receiving. Women were validating your experiences in a way you hadn't expected even a few days ago. It made you not so scared to leave the house anymore.

On Tuesday morning, Remus called you. You had the thought that it might have been James calling to grovel on Remus' phone, but you thought it was a smart enough idea you'd indulge anyway. If it was Sirius you wouldn't have picked up.

Instead, it was actually Remus.

"Come to the media room this afternoon," He said, evidently not wasting time with pleasantries.

"What?" You asked, caught off-guard.

"Just do it. Two o'clock."

"Remus, you know I don't have a job anymore, right?"

"Come off it, you know anyone on the team would let you in. You've got quite a name for yourself," He chanced a joke and you rolled your eyes.

"What, whore?" You retorted, only a little worried it would be true.

"I'm hanging up," Was all he said before the line went dead. You huffed, snapping your phone closed with all the attitude of a spoiled private schoolgirl.

Yet, at two o'clock you were standing in front of the media room at James' team's stadium, questioning all of your life choices.

The room seemingly went silent when you entered, dozens of pairs of eyes staring you down as you nervously stuck to the wall. You felt the derogatory, leering stares from all the sleazy men who'd been accusing you of sleeping with players since you first started in the field. It made you want to drop dead.

James made his way to the lectern up the front of the room with a cough, quieting down the chaos.

"Afternoon, everyone. I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you here, I've got some things I'd like to address.

"As you all well know, I've been a frequent face in the papers lately, and not for my brilliant playing as it usually is. I recently got followed down a street after a night out looking after an old friend who happened to be a colleague of yours. Now I know that my godly good looks lead you to believe that I don't feel the same as all of you, but I do. And I'd like you all to consider how you'd feel if a man with a camera followed you all the way home after you'd been out for a night with your friends and a few cheeky drinks. It's pretty invasive if you can't imagine.

"Now, all this press hasn't really affected me. However, my dear friend has been subject to misogynistic articles, slut-shaming and harassment all because we were seen out together and a few hateful words from someone I used to consider a mate." You had no idea where this was going, but you were absolutely fascinated. James was more well-spoken, more mature and solemn than you'd ever seen him, though he still had his audience in the palm of his hand with his casual jokes. It was a masterclass in public speaking.

"If you haven't read any of my friend's pieces I would highly recommend them; she's got a brilliant voice and I personally read everything she publishes. However, I'm not here to talk about her work; I'd actually like to talk about her if you all don't mind."

What the hell was happening?

"In the midst of all these articles over the last week, I know you've all seen various pictures of us, including from secondary school. A few come to my mind, our graduation picture is a highlight, but I'd really like to talk about this one." James brandished a printed-out photo you recognised instantly.

"This photo was taken when we were twelve or thirteen years old at someone's party. That night, as you tend to do when you're young and bored, we played spin the bottle and ended up being each other's first kiss. I'm sure you're all wondering why I'm telling this story now, and it's because ever since that night as I have recently realised, almost a decade later, I have been embarrassingly, stupidly in love with her."

Your life wasn't real, it absolutely could not be.

"And though I've done some incredibly dumb things over the years, somehow she's managed to like me back -- at least a little. So I'm setting the record straight right now, she is not 'sleeping to the top' or trying to get a secret scoop out of me because I'm the one who's been chasing after her for twelve years.

"I know I've been rambling on for far too long so I'll wrap it up here, but I just wanted to end this little conference with a warning that if I see any more disgusting, hateful articles about her, you won't be getting another comment from me again. So nice to see you all!"

The room started to trickle out but you were stuck to your spot against the wall, frozen in absolute shock. You hardly even noticed the dirty looks you got from some of the people you'd been working alongside for years.

You spotted James in another corner, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and messing with his hair. A nervous tell.

The room was almost completely empty when you approached him, heels muffled by the carpeted floor.

"Hey stranger," You said softly, feeling way out of your depth. He turned in an instant, smile lighting up his face then melting away as it was replaced with an insecure frown.

"Was that okay? I didn't want to embarrass you but I wanted to step up and do something and protect you and--"

"Have you really loved me since we were twelve?" You cut him off bluntly.

"Every day since, as I've figured out," He agreed with a slight nod, glasses slipping down his nose slightly.

"What about all the flirting with Lily? The other girls over the years?"

"So obviously fake. Distractions. It's never been anyone but you, love."

You could only stare at him for a moment, your whole world shifting beneath your feet. James' face became increasingly worried, brow furrowing more the longer you remained unresponsive.

"If you don't feel the same that's totally alright, I still stand by what I did and I don't want you being harassed for--"

You'd always thought that cutting someone off with a kiss was ridiculously cheesy, reserved for shitty Hallmark movies with grown-up child actors who never got their big break. Turns out though, when you realise that your girlish crush on the star footballer has actually been a complicated love of twelve years, you don't really want to waste any more time.

When you woke up on Wednesday morning with James next to you, body heat keeping you cozy, you were convinced you had to be dreaming. When you eventually got up to check your emails and start your day the hypothesis was only solidified by the impossible email waiting in your inbox.

The fucking BBC wanted to hire you as a football commentator and sports writer. Your dream job at your dream company. If you let out an embarrassing squeal then that was none of your business.

You were still convinced you were hallucinating the whole thing until James came in with his biggest smile and that look in his eyes that told you he probably had a hand in getting your name on the BBC desks.

Even a few weeks ago you would have been mad at him, assuming it was mocking or he had ulterior motives. But it wasn't a few weeks ago anymore, and James Potter's whole, endless heart belonged to you. You weren't letting that go anytime soon.

[xoluvx]

Idea about billie and you being long term friends (you are the shy introvert in the friend group) and while it’s just you two relaxing/ hanging out Billie finds out you’ve never had an orgasm before. Up to you on how Billie helps out

oh god yes this is soooo hot!

"wait, you're shitting me" billie pushed you gently as you tumbled. you were on the floor leaning on the couch looking up at her. you regained your composure, trying to stifle the uncomfortable laugh that was threatening to spill from your lips. she watched you incredulously.

you're not sure exactly how you got to the conversation, but soon enough you'd very shyly profess that you'd never had an orgasm.

"at least i don't think so," you shrugged feeling your body go up in flames. you were wam and flushed and almost stuttering on your words.

"oh you'd know," billie replied raising her brows, prodding the inside of her mouth with her tongue. a pensive look on her face. then she rested her head on her hand, elbow on her knee leaning closer. you looked up at her from where you were sitting on the floor. you tucked in your legs subconsciously and swallowed, looking away with a tight line smile.

"what does it feel like?" your voice small now tapping your thigh before meeting her gaze.

"um," billie leaned back on the couch, closing her arms and huffing like she was really thinking hard. her eyes squinted in a pensive state and she tapped her chin.

"fucking amazing," she laughed looking down at you. her lip tucked under her teeth. then she inhaled, sitting up placing her hands on her thighs.

"i can show you," she almost whispered. her words very matter of factly. like this was so totally normal. like she'd almost be honored to be the first person to give you an orgasm. a present of sorts.

you bit the inside of her lip trying to process what was happening. did you hear her correctly? she could show you?

"how?" there was an unexpected boldness in your voice as you tilted your head, playing with your fingers resting on the couch. you were staring at her. eyes wandering down to her lips ever so often waiting for her response. it felt you were sitting, staring at each for an eternity before she patted the couch. her gaze mischievous.

you inhaled and exhaled shakily getting up taking your spot on the couch.

"are you okay with this?" she asked searching your face making sure this was one hundred percent okay. you nodded without hesitation. holding your hand out. billie looked at your hand. she raised her brows, but took it in hers, shaking it before laughing. you bit your lip taking your hand back as she instructed you to sit back.

you did as you were told, hands resting at your side as she sat closer. her knees were brushing your thighs, as her hand ran across your belly. you swallowed looking down at her hand. her eyes fixed on your face. when her hand disappeared under your sweats, you looked at her. she had a sweet smile on her face. reassuring almost. her eyes searched yours. asking for permission to continue. you nodded biting your lip.

her palm cupped your clothed pussy and you hummed with delight. the simple touch was already sending you into orbit. your hips moved instinctively and it was billie's turn to bit her lip. fingers tapping around your pussy until they made contact with the very wet spot on your underwear.

"fuck," she whispered to herself and inhaled trying to control herself. she didn't want to scare you. didn't want to give you more than you wanted. than you'd asked for, but she let her hand slip under your underwear and the direct contact of her skin on yours sent your head back on the couch.

you stifled your moan. it caught in your throat. as her index and middle finger slid between your folds. the contact with your clit made your lids flutter. then she was reaching your entrance and you were totally under her control. legs opening wider. this made your pants tighter and her hand press harder on your pussy.

"take them off," billie whispered in your ear and you nodded eagerly following her instructions. they were off in a swift, clumsy, movement and soon you were pantless sitting on the couch, legs open for your best friend. her fingers found their place between your folds again. this time they moved with precision. finger on your clit rotating featherlike. she felt your sensitive bud under her fingertips. focusing on stimulating until you were whimpering and panting.

"how does that feel?" her voice raspy in your ear sending shock signals down your body. you felt tingly all over. heat radiating from your core spreading across your body. it felt so-

"good, oh my god. so good," you breathed looking down at her hand. it was buried between your folds, lingering lower until you felt her fingers pushing through your entrance. two fingers gliding smoothly. not all the way, just enough to make you clench.

then her thumb was on your clit and her fingers were pushing further into your pussy, almost as if exploring, but that wasn't it. she was curling her fingers. thumb still on your clit. so hot you were trembling. then you felt something you hadn't felt before. it almost stung and you felt tight. so tight around her fingers.

you sought comfort in her hoodie. fingers wrapping tightly around the soft fabric as she breathed in your ear. lips almost brushing your skin. her thigh practically straddling yours as the pace of her fingers increased and her fingers curled. you were breathing heavy, whimpering, biting your bottom lip. you couldn't comprehend the feeling. it was overpowering. all consuming. the bottom of your feet were tingling, you were raising your chest, seeking release.

"cum, please i know you can," her voice was so sweet and demanding.

"let go," she whispered again and this time her lips brushed your cheek and fuck it. you unraveled on her fingers. letting go. you felt a wave rushing over you. it was foreign. it was euphoric. it made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"fuck i've been missing out," your voice was weak. your legs shaking. a blissful sigh escaped your body and billie smiled proudly raising her brows in a knowing look.

you wanted to experience that over and over again.

[creativewritersposts]

delirious state - Luke Hughes

summary; Luke Hughes x reader

Luke gets injured and the painkillers kick him into a delirious state, which is quite funny.

warning(s); mention of injury, it's more fluff and funny, real head injuries are no fun! , maybe grammar errors

author's note; old but good! 4/4 fics done! Good night everyone ✨

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

"Luke Hughes left the game and is on the way to get medical help".

This is how the disaster began. You stand in the emergency department waiting for Luke, completely worried and walking circles. "Mrs. Hughes? Mr. Hughes asked for you", an older nurse speaks with papers under her arm. You didnt know you're his wife but you're completely fine with that. Together with his nurse you arrive on a station where you can smell the typical disinfection scent.

"I'll leave you alone with your husband. Our doctor had to sew a wound on his head, two broken rips and a swollen nose. Because of the medical drugs and painkillers he can speak confused. He needs to rest. Are there any questions?", the nurse looks up from her pinning map with all informations, you don't care right now. You want to know if he's okay. "No i just want to see my husband, thank you". The nurse nods and walks back where they came from.

Quietly you open the door, afraid to wake Luke. Your poor Lukey. But damn you're wrong. Your poor Lukey smiles high and looks at you absolutely awake. He has a black eye, a neck support and plaster on his head where the doctors had to shave his head. He looks not good, hockey is a dangerous sport.

"Hey babbbyyy! Nice to see you", he waves with his hand and his voice sounds higher than usual.

"Hey, are you okay? My poor Lukey. Your family will be here in one hour. Traffic", you pet his curly hair and sit on his bed. "Oh yeah. Do you want to go to the cinema with me?", Luke smiles again not knowing what he tells. "You're not in the condition so I don't think", you giggle. It feels like you talk to a child. "You are soooo pretty", Luke does a gesture to show how much and curls your hair with his finger.

"You are pretty, too. Even with your destroyed face", you smirk. Luke is never that cheesy but as long he won't get angry you tolerate it.

"I really wanna have sex with you", he says without warning. It's atypical for him, he's very shy.

"Baby I dont think that works out right now",

"but whyyy?", Luke gets tearful.

"You have an head injury!".

"You think I'm a sucker in bed!", he replies in a stubborn tone.

"No don't get me wrong!", you never imagined you both have this conversation in the hospital one day.

"Yes you do. I'm lucky I married you before you could leave me because of that", his monitor signals louder because his heartbeat gets faster.

"You really need to rest and chill baby", you hope the topic is closed now.

"Just if you tell me you want to have Sex with me too!", you roll your eyes. "I won't say this!", you place your hands on your hip. A nurse comes in and controls his vital values until he speaks out, "Marriage is hard", he huffs. The nurse laughs off.

"We're not married. Before we reach this step you have to ask me!", your poor nerves. Honestly you need a drink to get through this. And chocolate cake.

Luke wants to stand up out of his bed, "babyyy lets go! I'm ready to get some actionnn with youu", he tipsy says. Luke's cheeks are rosy and and he looks like he gets fever. You lovely push him back to bed. "Lukey I love having sex with you but god damn lay down or I'll cain you on this bed!".

"Uhh I love when you take control", he smirks.

"Man you knocked out on ice and all you can think is about this?! and y'all say I'm the cheeky one!", you turn around behind you, hearing a familiar voice. It was his older brother.

Ellen, Jim and Jack watched this amused scenario. "Mooom", Luke groans. Ellen goes straight to his bed, hugs him and strokes his curly hair. "Can I help you with something? It looked really bad!", his mother says. "Why have you to interrupt me and my wife? Its getting hot in there", Luke is outraged.

"Lukey its fever and no sexual attraction, I'm sorry guys, he's dazed from the drugs", you try the best to get out of his embarrassing moment. "Mooom?", he calls her name again in a wailing way. "Yes?", she holds his other hand and focused. "Can I borrow your ring? I need to do a proposal". Ellen don't know what to say. Jim stays quite in the cornor as opposed to Jack. He grins the whole time and records some videos. "I have to send this to Quinn! Made my day!".

"Don't be so mean", Jim replies. "Daaaadddd?", comes from the big boy in bed. Jim steps next to Ellen, looking down to his son. "Why I'm the third one and not the first child? Didn't you make any effort to get me?", he whines. "Can't believe my smartest son asks such a stupid question", Jim shakes his head and hugs Luke, too. They don't care about this delirious state, the ony thing that matters is, he's okay. (Of course Jack will show their whole family these videos later).

[waitingonher]

ELECTRIC TOUCH — [jason grace dating headcanons]

author's note: i need 2024 to be THE year. 2023 did me soooo dirty. im praying

dating JASON GRACE would be like dating someone from a regency era romance novel…he’s just SUCH a hopeless romantic but he would rather die than admit it.

in the initial first few weeks of dating, jason was sosososooooo shy about pda/physical touch. it’s not that he was uncomfortable, he LOVES physical touch, but he had just gone so long without it that he wasn’t used to it. but eventually, he warms up to it…and now he can’t go without having at least one part of him touching you 😭 

when it came to things like hugs, kisses, handholding, etc. jason would always wait for you to initiate it because he was so anxious about making you uncomfortable ?? fjsldfjs 

but when you communicated that he didn’t need to ask/wait for you all the time, jason started initiating things more. even still, he occasionally gets nervous to even hold your hand? like wdym you’ve been dating for over six months and you still get nervous doing simple couple things 😭 it’s very endearing though 

chivalry is NOT dead,, and it’s because of jason LMAO. he’s the type to swap shoes with you even though you’re wearing heels that are 3x too small for him, but hey, at least your feet don’t hurt anymore!

jason��s also hellbent on carrying things for you, opening doors for you, pulling out/pushing in chairs for you, etc… GOD HE’S SO CUTE. 

since dating him, you don’t think you’ve ever touched a single door or car handle when he’s with you. 

jason is NOT afraid to advocate or stand up for you, especially if you’re more on the quiet & non-confrontational side. if you’re in a group setting and someone interrupts you, he’s making sure you get your chance to say what you wanted to say. and he doesn’t do it in a way that leaves you embarrassed, he’s very very classy with it! 

if you’re a big music person, jason will literally learn your favorite artist’s entire discography so you guys have another thing to talk about. 

you guys also have a shared playlist of “your songs” and he’s so serious about it 😭 if jason hears a song that even remotely reminds him of you, he’s going to the ends of the earth to figure out what it’s called. 

rip to anyone around him if shazam doesn’t work! he’s gonna send voice messages to your big group chat humming the tune, but he’s so tone deaf that no one knows the song…and his search history is just variations of “song that goes du du ooh du ooh du du ooh” a for effort though babes…

jason’s love languages are definitely acts of service and quality time. over the years and throughout the many battles he’s fought, he’s come to realize that all he wants to do when he comes home is just spend time with his loved ones. 

after a busy day, you’ll come home to find your laundry folded, bed sheets washed & freshly made, along with a sweet little note from jason <3 

your guys’ thing are writing notes to each other. considering his and your busy schedule, you’ll write and leave tiny notes around the house for each other to find. it’s one of the many reasons why jason gets up in the morning. 

he loves coming home to you after a long day to simply melt in your arms. there’s just something so soothing about cuddling with you after a busy day. 

it does not matter where you are, you guys could literally be cleaning the camp toilets and he’d still be able to find the fun in it. you’re his home, and he’d follow you wherever you go. 

if you play sports, you already know he’s showing up to ALL your games. it doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain or if it’s hours away, he’s absolutely determined to show his support. jason even makes posters with your jersey number and when you have big tournaments he’ll show up with posters of your face 😭 the refs are SO tired of jason help

i feel like if he really tried, jason would be a good cook. 

one day you sent him a recipe you saw online saying you wanted to make it with him, but then he decided to make it himself to surprise you. and it was actually so good??? 

JASON IN A “KISS THE COOK” APRON OMFG. that’s what you got him for his birthday and every single time without fail, he’ll wear it when he’s cooking. 

one of his hidden talents is that he’s super good at origami. he originally picked it up because he heard it was a good stress reliever, but now he also does it for you <3 

he loves your reaction when he gives you little paper rings or an origami version of your favorite animal! 

this guy DREAMS of domesticity. he’s always been the type to date to marry, and that’s just what he intends to do with you! even though you guys are still young, he’s been planning your proposal sfjfls

tell me why he already knows what kind of ring he wants to get you… omg. 

he really wants to just settle down with you in new rome. but honestly, he’s willing to do anything as long as you’re at his side. 

expect flowers from jason at least once a month! he even keeps one flower so he knows when it’s time to get you a new bouquet. and if he’s away, he’ll get one of his friends to deliver it! 

i have this headcanon that the aphrodite cabin teams up with the hephaestus cabin to throw a really elaborate party, essentially like prom. anyways, jason would go all out for your promposal jfdsls i feel like he would either do a super funny poster/proposal like y’know that one guy who did that medieval promposal 😭 yeah well jason would do something like that but like...more roman... LMFAO him pulling up to your place in a chariot 

or he would do something super super intricate and planned out…like a fancy picnic and then he’d have the fauns arrange fireflies to spell out “prom?” when it’s dark out. 

ugh! jason grace the man that you are… <3 best bf ever,, i can confirm btw

[suguru-getos]

soft yandere satoru hcs:

a/n: hey, you guys should know i ship myself with him so there's no way i'd tolerate insane yandere satoru without ki!ling myself :P soooo- here's me making him a soft yan ^^

warnings: yandere behavior, mentions of arranged marriage troupe, stalkingtroupe, angry!sato ofc but he is still normal about it. mentions of fluff because it's satoru duh <33 also, this is one of the softest yandere hcs i've ever written *giggles*

yandere!satoru who saw you the first time in a jujutsu clan party hosted by your parents and how insignificant you truly were. to yourself, you had the best parents ever, they didn't push you into becoming a sorcerer, but to the kamo, zenin, and gojo clan members it was pure bullshit. wastage of proper sorcerer blood.

until yandere satoru met you for the first time and you hung out, the way he conversed was so different from someone who should be the strongest, someone who wields the highest powers in the whole world. someone who's birth shook the shackles of this world alone. he was kind, he sat next to you, non-judgemental even so he was weirdly wearing that damned blindfold.

he talked to you about your life, and about his own. pointing out the subtle and the not so subtle differences between the both of you. asking if you had a boyfriend. it was so subtle how could you think he had any other intention but to be your friend? naive and stupid.

things escalated real quickly when your mother told you that you were supposed to marry satoru gojo, oh my god- the clan head of the gojo clan, the ever so spoiled, esteemed entitled brat. you really couldn't say anything about this, but to hold your guns you decided to contact him. "you knew that this was happening?" you mumbled, watching him stir the coffee in front of you lazily. "of course, gosh you are so lucky little one!" he snickered, though the way he looks at you, it's hard to process what he's truly feeling inside. you are unaware of his stalking, how he knows your colleagues, how they are what they do, what they eat, how they breathe, to whom you are closer to, who likes you- what time do you get up, eat, what snack do you like, ghana roasted coffees over normal ones. though he would not admit to it.

there are a few times he has watched you sleep like a creep, just sitting next to you, just feeling the innate feeling of sharing the same bed as you. how cute you are, he often mumbles to himself. "i could crush you without even trying" as a musing criteria for how naive you are, how cute you are and how absolutely adorable you are. creepy-

to pretend that he is more than willing to let you take things your own way, he lets you plan dates. cute, adorable dates. one of the days you would be doing pottery with him, the other time it's an aquarium date where satoru doesn't know why you're so mesmerised when the real awe is you, the other time it was a planeterium and that's when satoru shows you his abilities for the first time, holding you closer to him like the princess you are and walking on sky, as if it's nothing, amid the full moon night. the other time it's you and him making tiaras in a garden, sometimes he would just randomly pull you closer, kissing your cheek while languishing in a movie together. so cute, so astonishingly cute! maybe marrying him is not a bad idea???

things show you their true form when you were on a date in a high-end restaurant, roof-top and fully booked. he's always been so cute with you, you had opened up and been comfortable enough. until a waiter decided to hit on you, before long- you found him choking on his own blood, despicable sight of him oozing out blood from his eyes, coughing and dying in front of you. "wh- what was that?" when you glance at satoru, he is emphasising the same lazy grin, smirking. "what. go on? smile back!" he muses, and when you're a teary-eyed mess, he presents himself with a carefully painted visage of guilt. "oh no no- baby i'm so sorry- i lost it, you make me lose it! i love you so much please no!"

would not let you have personal space after, forcing your parents to hasten the whole marriage thingy, he thinks you would leave him and that has him acting out of character. though he now knows fear is a powerful tool, even though he does not want to use it on his darling. sometimes he can't help it, especially when you act so fucking adamant and so fucking stubborn!!

"listen, princess, here's what's going to happen. daddy's going to be really cooperative if you come here and give him a hug, daddy does not want to be a meanie to his little girl. you know that right?" by being a 'meanie' he just means getting angry, manhandling you against the wall, seething in rage and bubbling hot with the insecurity of your behavior being the slightest of different.

the thing is satoru really, really loves you. the prospect of being a yandere is more 'dere' in him. however when the yandere shows? that's when you should truly fear the capabilities of this man. satoru hates this but he can sometimes use your triggers against you. don't like being tied up, maybe an empty threat would get you in line, after all, you refuse to listen when he wants to love you!

he's going to make sure your engagement ring has a location curse imbued into it, he wants to know 24x7 where his baby is. one time you lied to him that you are at work when you were actually in a colleague's party, you were greeted by the whole party avenue being destroyed to shreds, people bruised and only you knew it was your now husband, because he texted. 'infinity protects you princess, not others. next time think twice about lying to daddy.'

his behavior can get hot and cold instantly, one moment he is the most adorable man-child, loving you, playing with you... until he's ticked off and the real, no-nonsense monster comes out to meet you. a scathing frown with glowy eyes as he reminds you that you belong to the 'strongest'.

there are times he does use sex as a weapon, a weapon to make you give in. he is just so good at it, he is going to spoil you senseless, kissing every square inch of your body, worshipping you, crying with you when he mumbles apologies for being angry and mean at you, for scaring you, you don't deserve it, such a pretty baby, oh you take him so well. he was made for you, you are the strongest because you have him wrapped around your pinkie... only to show you the rage and insecurity and all of it when you come home late.

the only positivity you have, is he would rather kill himself than hurt you. that brings you peace, that brings a sense of stability and sensibility into you to hang onto the rope of your relationship a bit longer, clutching onto the fleeting hope of him changing...

[dabratzchronicles]

Look At You

Duke Dennis as: Himself

You as: yourself

Summary: Duke shows you better that he can tell you that you're fucking beautiful

This fic contains: stronggg sexual content, breeding kink, daddy kink,lil bit of degrading, praise kink and das all my horny brain can think of

A/N: I have no words. again. i thought of some shit and was like WELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

the thought in question: i was finna say i need a nigga to pull my hair and fuck thee every loving shit outta me while making me look in the mirror and he tells me how pretty i am and how my pussy feels amazing

anywho! like comment reblog for more, and as always folks, have a black ass day.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @thecapodomme @theebaddesttt

The sweat beading off your forehead mixed with his, he reached around the other side and kissed your cheek, the gaze he gave you through the mirror, made you clench around him, his length filling you, leaving you craving for an ounce of movement.

he raised himself into a push-up position, moaning at the little twitching his dick did. He gather as many curls as he could with one hand, which was basically your whole head, you’d be beating him senselessly about fucking up your hair, but at this moment you didn’t care, it’s not like he was hurting you.

“I want you to look at yourself in the mirror,” he carefully moved your head back to the center of the mirror, returning your gaze to meet his, “You take your eyes off, I’ll slow down. Got it?”

You nodded your head in agreement, “Give me words baby,” He yanked your head back, slowly gyrating his hips in a circle, making you follow his command. “Yessss Daddy,”

He pulled the corner of his mouth into a smirk, “That's my good girl, I love you.”

Before you could even get a chance to say it back, he gave you one powerful thrust, to prepare you for what was about to come.

He leans down to your ear, panting and cursing under his breath while he planted kisses on your shoulders leading up to your ear, “Breathe mamas,” his words were like God’s pure words, looking into your skull as the most beautiful sound of you filled the air, “That pretty ass voice, You like it when I fuck you like this? Hm?” He asked you with each thrust growing sharp.

“YesYesYesYesYes Fuck!” you whimpered, lowering your head which slowed his pace down, “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, feeling you clenching around his dick made him desire you more.

He loved when you smiled, he loved it when you moaned, he loved it when you made sure the whole world knew his name and every curse word in the universe, he loved it when you submitted to him, you were always a hassle but you learned to submit to him, and he loved that shit.

“Fuck,” He leaned back, resting his hands on your hips, groaning at you slowly fuck him back, he guided you carefully up and down his dick, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was tryna trap your ass.

“This pussy feels amazing baby, She’s taking me soooo fuckin’ well. You like fuckin’ me like this? Fuck me back like the lil slut you are?” he questioned you knowing damn well you couldn’t comprehend what in the entire fuck he was talking about, you were too focused on how good he was fucking you, his slightly curved dick touching all the right spots and spots you didn’t know was even there before, its like he learned your body without you knowing and you loved it.

you whined as he slowly slid out of you, his dick fully coated with your essence. He flipped you to your side and to which he giggled at your face, your lips permanently stuck like the letter ‘O’.

“Come on baby, I know you got one more in you.”

“I done gave you threeeee,” you dragged your words into whines, you have been fucked outta your mind and so has he, but neither one of you wanted to be apart from each other.

He positioned himself along with your entrance, you clenched over nothing as your pussy was trying to welcome him back to his home.

He grips your throat enough to where you can breathe just a little, bringing your face close to his as he gives you a sultry meaningful kiss, one that leaves you feeling like the two of you’s souls are complete, merging you both into one.

Without breaking the kiss, he slowly teased you with his length, sliding it up and down your wet folds, smacking his tip right on your clit, giggling at the small twitch and hitches your breath made.

He let go of your throat as he slowly slid back into you, breaking the kiss to let out thee most dramatic gasp you could have ever gasped, got to give it to him, toxic dick is what’ll make a bitch sick.

He locks his arms from under your armpit, you threw your arms around him, keeping him close as he grips your shoulders, steadying himself before he begins to rock his hips.

The slow, sensual pace drove you mad, your moans turning into whimpers as he kept fuckin his love deeper into you.

“I’m gonna,” He moaned deeply in your ear, you kept him close, locking your legs behind him so he couldn’t go nowhere, at this point you were the one trapping this nigga.

“Please cum in me!” you whimpered loosely as your body did something all too familiar.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Pleaseeeeee?”

“I ca-can’t hearrrr you,” he growled primarily as he fucked your hungrily, his thrusts fogging your brain on actual words, all you could blurt was:

“Daddy please cum in my pussy? Fuck, fuck, Please Daddy?!”

his chuckles turned into moans as his dick twitched inside you, you felt him shoot his seed deep inside you, fucking it deeper in you as you scream in pleasure and unholiness, you black out for a few seconds.

When you came to, Duke was gripping your hips to keep you still, rutting into you a few more before halting to a complete stop.

The room was filled with heavy breathing and unwanted clatter from the TV, the both of you started laughing when you two came down from Cloud 9, Duke slid out and plopped beside you.

“I love you baby.” you breathed, climbing over to lay on his chest.

“I love you more mamas,” he rubbed your shoulders, running his lines over his fingermarks, “Sorry About That.”

“It ain't like nobody gone see it.” you laughed and he agreed in silence.

[quarterlifekitty]

Okay listen I know I said I would stop but you adding onto könig gave me IDEAS.

Him fucking you while you play on your switch once you two get to his, frankly abysmally plain and sad, apartment in Austria only for him to whine about the switch taking too much of your attention and yoinks it from your hands.

Don't ask how he gets you papers, all that matters is now you're his wife and you're in his home country. Oh, you don't like where he lives? That's okay, he'll pick out a much better place. Oh, you only speak English/your native language? Good. He'll be the only one you need to talk to and he can translate anything you need to read and he'll fill out any silly forms needed.

Hope to god that if you don't want kids that your birth control is a fuckin implant. Though, it will only delay it. Not stop it. He wonders after a month of you living in Austria on top of however fucking long he was deployed near you, and not seeing you take or mention any type of birth control, why you aren't pregnant? Sure, hes.....older.....but that shouldn't be an issue, he read an article about a 68 year old man fathering a new baby a week ago. He's healthy, especially for his size. So just what could it possibly be? He decides to dig into your medical history, just to be sure, you can never be too careful, and there he spots the reason his little maus has yet to take. No worries, he knows a doctor.

Well. This got progressively out of hand. Would you believe me if I said I'm not even a könig main girlie?

I would believe you bc that man takes hold like a virus in your system man

The apartment is just a stepping stone— a family needs a house, he knows that, so he has you help him pick one. And I’m gonna say something. The ones he chooses to take you to and view… he picked based on how you build Minecraft houses. And maybe I’m a weenie, but I don’t think he takes your switch! You can’t really go out because you don’t know the language, and he’s gone for long periods on deployment— it’s good for you to have something to do. If he’s trying to spend time with you, he can just loom over you (you’re getting distracted by his cleavage tbh) and gently pull it away, putting it on sleep mode and on a side table.

And you know what. Perhaps a controversial opinion. He gets hard watching you play animal crossing. The way you decorate your little house and do all of the gardening, cooking, crafting. Taking care of the happiness and needs of all of the cute little animals. You’re already perfect at playing house! You’ve got free rein to use his cards to decorate however you want. Make the house a home, you know? And I don’t know about you, but I always have stuffed animals and cute toys all over my animal crossing house. So, to him, you’re basically already subconsciously ready for a baby.

I doubt reader has an implant in this, because she was terminally celibate before he showed up lol. But I do find the concept soooo funny. That he’s trying to get you pregnant so desperately, but of course he hasn’t told you that at all. He just tells you he’s coming inside and you go okay 💖 yay 💖. So like he could ask if you’re on contraceptives and you’d probably tell him but then he might have to admit to what he’s doing and he’d rather just read your entire medical history lmao. And he totally lies to you about why it has to be taken out. Saying there isn’t really medical care to maintain it in Austria, so you should really just have it taken out now.

And then you ask if it’s ok for him to keep giving you creampies even though your implant is gone. As usual, he says it’s fine— that you can let him worry about that!

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Heyyy you were asking for recs for the Fire Breathing Roommate right???

Imagine Mitsuki coming to reader and Katsuki’s apartment for his birthday and reader’s like who is THIS goddess at my doorstep like- And Katsuki’s like: Babe- that’s my mother.

I just think it would be SO FUNNY to try to celebrate Katsuki’s birthday the way humans do - because I bet dragons celebrate them very differently. So when reader gives him a big wrapped box and a cake that’s ON FIRE he’s like OH MY GOD THE WORLD IS ENDING

oh my god. you are literally a GENIUS THIS IS SOOOO GOOD AND HONESTLY ADORABLE !!! i had sm fun writing this n i hope you enjoy ! <3 if you guys have any more fbbcXtra requests, feel free to send em to me !! ps. this was way longer than i planned it to be which is funny cus this is supposed to be a mini extra's series, but oh well ! i had fun writing ! and i hope you enjoy reading as well !

♡ extra #2 : birthday battle ♡

in which : you celebrate katsuki’s birthday but you end up getting a surprise.

you wake up like usual in the morning, enjoying your day off as you laze around in bed, shuffling the most you can with the big dragon man’s arms around you, snuggly trapping you in his snake like hold and his tail warm and draped on top of your legs beneath the sheets.

just like usual, except things are a little different today and you crack a smile when you manage to free your head from his iron grip.

today is katsuki’s birthday.

he'd told you about it a few month ago in passing, and ever since you found out you'd planned everything meticulously, hence your day off, so you could make his first birthday here as memorable as possible.

you look up at his relaxed sleeping face with a soft smile, before pressing a small kiss to his chin. then another one to his nose and you giggle quietly when his nose twitches. he grouses quietly in response when you lean up and kiss him again, the corner of his mouth, his cheeks and the ones on his eyelids make him grumble. his arms around your waist squeeze.

"s'too early fer you to be botherin' me, human.." the blonde man slurs. one of his red eyes opens to peek at your smiling face, your smile widening seeing him awake. you press another kiss to the tip of his nose and he grunts in appreciation.

"s'never too early to wish a happy birthday to my dragon man." you croon. katsuki closes his eyes at your affection, but his eyebrows furrow in confusion and his grip on you gets tighter somehow.

"that's what you woke me up for ?"

"of course it is, it's your birthday !" he flops down onto his back on the bed and you break out of his hold to sit up, leaning on your shoulder to watch him. he throws an arm over his eyes but the one closest to you feels around the bed for you.

"babe, it's really not that big of a deal." he utters simply.

he'd told you, and you'd assumed, that dragons celebrate and see birthdays way differently than humans do. it's somewhat of a celebration, but not for very long. dragonshifter where usually raised to be able to hold their own; being taught to be indepented and skilled fighters from a very young age.

"it depends from faction to faction," is what he'd said, "but birth celebrations usually don't last any longer than a few minutes. and we don't do whole birthdays like you do. most ya get is a pat on the back and the most to eat for dinner." he had shrugged. a frown pulled at your face and he smirked at you, ruffling your hair as he told you not to get 'all mopey' for him, and that he didn't mind. but in that moment your mind was set.

you'd get him to experience a human birthday. and it'd be his best one ever.

you pout at him, nudging his arms and he groans despite only barely budging like jello. "it is a big deal ! i wanna be able to celebrate with you." you place your head on his chest. he lifts his arm just a bit to look at you. "birthdays are so much fun, i wanna show you that..i planned everything out too-"

"you planned this out ?" he squints.

"-pleaseee ?" you plead, ignoring his earlier question. the blonde huffs out a large sigh and covers his eyes again.

"fine. what am i g'nna do with you ?" he concedes to himself quietly, but he grabs at your waist and pulls at it, signalling for you to shuffle up towards him. you do, until your face to face with him and he sighs again, eyes softened.

"since it's my birthday, i can do what i want right ?"

"mostly, yeah. no burning anyone though." you poke his nose and giggle when he scoffs a sharp click of his teeth in annoyance.

"whatever, how 'bout you just let me sleep in then ?" he snarks.

"i can do that." you grin back at him and he tries to lean in just enough to bite your nose, but he doesn't lean far enough and simply throws his head back in defeat. you laugh and since it's his birthday, you'll let him have it, so you lean in a bit closer to his face. he takes a modest chomp at your nose and you roll your eyes with a huff at the tired smirk on his face like he'd won some type of prize. and despite his sleepy eyes he still manages to lean in again to rub his nose against yours in lazy greeting. you close your eyes and sigh at his ministrations.

but of course, your katsuki cannot live with himself if his not being a little shit and he yawns in your face. you smack a hand over his mouth and groan in disgust. he just laughs into your hand, then he bites at your palm.

"can you be not-insufferable for at least five minutes after you wake up ?" you whine, childishly wiping your hand onto his tank top.

"no can do baby, s'my birthday." the shit eating grin on his face almost makes you regret introducing him to the concept of human birthdays as a whole. almost though, because unfortunately this absolute demon man has your heart fitted nicely into the palm of his hand.

"you are truly something else." you grumble. katsuki snickers at your annoyance. "mhmm. hurry up an' gimme a kiss." he says but doesn't even give you a chance to respond when he grabs the back of your head and brings you to his lips, you don't put up much resistance either. he makes a forced face when you pull away.

"your breath smells like shit."

"you should absolutely not be talking."

the day has been going extremely well. you'd done what katsuki wanted today. which consisted of sleeping in. having his favorite for breakfast and some birthday pancakes, courtesy of you, which he gobbled up in the blink of an eye. watching his favorite movie to make fun of at the moment and taking a nap again. before going out for a birthday lunch and a (extremely tiring) hike all before dinner. the dinner and hike where set up by you. you could tell he enjoyed the activities even if he hadn't knocked his forehead to yours with a kiss to your forehead and a big blush on his face as thanks, but it was a very nice plus.

katsuki's lazing around on the couch asking you which show you want to watch while you're busying yourself with his secret chocolate fudge birthday cake. you plan to give it to him later tonight. you hide it behind a big tupperware box after checking to see if it was still intact. "just pick whatever !" you call loud enough for him to hear. carefully placing the bakery box back behind all of the other foods.

"i can't pick whatever, 'ts why i'm asking you !" you roll your eyes at his sass, a smile pulls at your face at the idea of a little revenge.

"it's your birthday, so figure something out !" you sing, he doesn't respond but growls loud enough for you to faintly hear it, and soon enough you hear a bunch of netflix prequels playing in quick succesion. you can't help but giggle.

then you hear the doorbell ring. and then again, longer and louder. it's way louder than you ever thought was possible and you wondered if it was maybe time to change some type of batteries or maybe have your boyfriend fix it for you.

"ugh, i'll get it !" you groan. you mutter a bitter 'yeah, yeah, i'm coming.' at the door. sachi definitely doesn't ring your doorbell like..that. and the only friend of katsuki's who'd probably ring the doorbell like this is kaminari, since for some reason he seems to be fixated on loud noises and specifically the noises your doorbell makes.

then you swing your door open and your met with katsuki. except a little bit taller and also a woman.

you have to blink to realise that that's not your katsuki at the door because he's already inside scrolling through shows and movies. rather, it's someone who looks extremely similar to him. the same blonde hair and same piercing red eyes and that same hardened stare. and of course, those fiery red horns and matching tail, altough hers was a little slimmer. she's extremely gorgeous.

you blink and gasp, words won't come out and the woman simply stares like she's analyzing you. you think you see the tiniest of smiles break into her face but you turn your head too quickly to tell.

"katsukiiiii !" you call "there's a very gorgeous dragon lady here who looks exactly like you ! "

in an instant it's like he teleported over to you, already in a fighting stance until he realizes who's at the door and you presume she's here for, and knows, him. his shoulders slum forward and an almost guilty expression crosses his face when he sees your widely blown eyes.

"do you know her???" you whisper yell. you forget the woman is right in front of you and can most definetly hear you, not to mention her superior hearing. katsuki exhales.

"babe.." katsuki winces apologetically "that's..my mom."

huh????

katsuki's mom hasn't stopped touching you since she got here 10 minutes ago.

from what you'd heard from your boyfriend his mother was a ruthless, aggressive stubborn and strict 'old bat' (you quickly scolded him about the way he adressed his mother) but from what you're experiencing now, this was anything but the case, though katsuki had the habit of being quite the unreliable narrator.

because ever since you'd brought her into your apartment, she has not gotten her hands off of you. to the great displeasure of your boyfriend, who's sitting on the kitchen chair glaring at the tv with his head resting against his palm and tapping his foot. when you'd went to bow to greet her she quickly scooped you up in her arms, shaking you around in her arms like a ragdoll with such force katsuki growled at her to let you go. you can't tell if being so affectionate is truly a dragon thing or if it runs in the family.

"oh aren't you just such a sweetheart !" she squeals, grabbing onto your shoulder to bring you closer to her and you squeak at the force. her slit eyes scanning over every corner of your face and she hums.

"mhmm, very good.." she pinches your cheeks between her pointer and thumb and tilts your face around, continuing to exam you. "oh, and so soft an' squishy too, like a little dumpling !" she coo's, smiling softly at you. she's a little rough, but she means well, you think. at least that's what you try to think when she suddenly grabs at your jaw to pry your mouth open. you let out a surprised gutteral noise but mitsuki doesn't seem the least bit fazed, she keeps humming to herself like a doctor. it's stupid but you're a little embarrassed because you'd recently eaten and you don't think your breath smells the best, she doesn't seem to mind that either.

"hmm..teeth aren't very sharp though.." she pouts, before a smile shines back onto her face as if to reassure you "that's okay though, sweetheart ! we can probably do something about that-"

suddenly a hand grabs at the woman's wrist and pulls her away from you and it's none other than katsuki. you smack a few times to readjust the slight pain in your jaw and you look up to see the two shifters in a heated stare down. it kinda looks ike a mirror trick because they're just so similar, it almost makes your head spin.

"quit touchin' on her old hag, at the rate you're going you'll break her fuckin' jaw." katsuki spits, dropping his mom's wrists with furrowed brows. his expression mirrors her own as she stands up to glare down at him fiercely. her eyes locking on yours make you flinch but a second passes and her face morphs, she's smiling. mitsuki grabs the top of her son's head and playfully (you hope..) smacks it a couple times, he snarls and growls but she ignores him in favor of giggling at you.

"he can be quite the brat sometimes, am i right ?!" her forced chuckles quickly turn into her pinching her son's cheeks with gritted teeth and a tick mark on her forehead. katsuki's complaint and what looks like to be an almost scorching grip on her wrist is ignored, she ignores him like he's a mere insect on her shoulder and keeps talking to you like he isn't there. "i hope he doesn't cause you too much trouble ? i know my son is a lot to handle." she asks, her sweet tone of voice returns and you sit up straighter. despite the..interesting first impression you still want your boyfriend's mother to like you.

"oh no, not at all ! katsuki's a sweetie." you smile and she coo's at you like a baby. she laughs like you'd just told her a joke and she pinches at her son's face to get his attention "heh. a real sweetie, eh ?" she mocks, raising a brow. katsuki finally manages to rip her hand off his face and he all but growls at her.

"shut up ! what're you even here for ?!" katsuki's complaint is grumbled as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. the only thing differentiating the two of them is that katsuki is currently hiding his tail, it gets in the way around your small apartment and he says it's annoying to sit with it on the couch and he hates tearing holes in his pants, so he mostly only has his horns out. horns identical to his mothers that point back when she raises her nose up at him with a dissapointed huff.

"oh please, it feels like everyone's been able to see your human den besides me !" she exclaims, resting her hands on her waist. "is it so bad that i wanted to come visit my son, and on his birthday of all days !" she huffs. katsuki scrunches his nose up in response. mitsuki continues, she fixes her warm gaze onto you and you blink up at her in surprise. she immediatly chippers up and swoops down to pick you up and hug you.

"and when was it you where planning on introducing me to your mate, and one who's such a cutie at that !" she rubs her cheeks against yours and you're glad she isn't lifting you off the ground but the way she's leaning over you makes your back hurt and has you gripping her arms. a bad decision since she thinks you're returning her affection and squeezes you harder. she glares at her son "as your mother-"

"urrghh-" he groans

"-and the one who practically set you up, i think you should've invited me sooner." she chides, patting at your head. katsuki's almost pout and slouched back reminds you of a little kid getting scolded. you supress a snort when you make eye contact and his frown deepens when you throw him a questioning lifted brow, he just shrugs and looks away again.

"pops hasn't been here yet either." he shrugs off, adjusting to cross his arms.

"you know how nervous your father gets katsuki." mitsuki scoffs, rolling her eyes at her son's comment. said son mirrors her expression, they seriously make your head spin.

"whatever. you came, you saw-" katsuki starts, heading over to rip you away from his mom's grip with minor resistance. "ya put yer paws all over my mate," he growls bitterly, giving you a firm squeeze before letting you go but never too far away from you. “so you can go now.” he says through gritted teeth and squinting eyes.

mitsuki scoffs, dramatically placing her hand onto her chest and even leans back a bit "how rude !" her wide eyes fix themselves to you and you instinctively nod, earning you a growl from the man next to you.

"while it is true i came here to see where you're living, i did come all the way here to wish my son, a happy birthday." she accentuates, putting extra intonation on specific words and every time she does katsuki shrinks into himself a bit. though after a moment he raises a brow

"there's no way you came all the way here just to wish me happy birthday." he deadpanned "what do you want ?" suddenly a smirk crosses the older woman's face and you see how on guard katsuki gets. you start getting a little nervous when stances start getting more..combative.

"do you think that ill of me, katsuki ? i'm hurt you'd thinkso little of me.. i even brought a gift too.." you start to realise how her horns starts to glow as she also backs up a bit, seeming ready to pounce. you hear katsuki scoff out a laugh and your head whips around to stare at the two. two big wings suddenly sprawl from the woman's back, your dragon man grins, doing the same and you realize-

where they planning to fight in your apartment ????

"woah, woah, woah, woah, WOAH." you get in between the both, frantically waving your arms around (you realize this is the second time you've stood in between two dragons now). immediately there's a shift. the tension remains, both blondes staying on guard but gazes fixed onto you.

"what're you guys planning to do ?!" you lock eyes with the older bakugou and shrink back "..if i may ask.." you squeak out. she giggles at your cuteness.

"oh, don't worry darling, this is totally normal ! i know you humans aren't familiar with birthday battles, but they're harmless, really !" she chirps.

"BIRTHDAY BATTLES???" you shriek, whipping your head around to see katsuki unfazed. he simply shrugs at you and your eye twitches at his nonchalance.

"it's fine. m'stronger than her anyways." he waves off, his mother barks out a laugh.

"hah ! is that the hill you wanna die on ?!" she challenges, your boyfriend has the nerve to try to respond until you cut him off before he can.

"katsuki. you are not battling in the house." you squeak, voice pitched high in distress. katsuki, the dragon man who was just about to fight his mother, apparently to the death, has the gall to pout at you.

"it'll be fine, i'll just fix it later." he grumbles.

"and where am i supposed to be while you guys fight to the death ?!" you say, your arms are still spread out like this could somehow stop the two beasts from duking it out should they decide to right now. his shoulders drop, his horns dimming. he pouts harder and you can already see what's coming.

"katsuki-"

"'ts my birthday."

"katsuki. don't-"

"you said i could do what i want."

"but i didn't think you'd do this ??" you try helplessly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes as a last ditch effort. incredibly stubborn as he is,katsuki doesn't budge. you pause to think.

it is his birthday.

and you did want to make his birthday as enjoyable as possible..and if it meant fighting with his mom would accomplish that, then so be it.

you sigh, loudly, and you want to hate the pleased little smirk on your rabid boyfriend's face so bad. but unfortunately, you can't. and that makes you sigh again.

"fine," you look up at him seriously "but not here. i'm sure you can find a field so you can..duke it out. don't get too injured." your boyfriend scoffs boastfully at your words, he pulls you in and wraps a strong arm around your waist, pulling you in. he seems to forget his mom's presence, who's now staring at you both with a smirk. you grip at his shoulders in embarrassment.

"nah, i told you i'm stronger." he says simply, kissing your cheek hard and sloppily "gonna come cheer me on ?" he offers, teasing smile on display.

"i fear i'd die of a heart attack, so i'm gonna sit this one out." you sweatdrop, patting his chest. he grunts in dissaproval but quickly shrugs it off, pressing a kiss to your head before fixing his fiery gaze onto his mother. "well, you gonna chicken out ?" he jeers.

"don't you underestimate your mother." she flashes you a loving grin, walking over to you and pressing her forehead to yours quickly and you feel your whole body warm up happily "it was wonderful meeting you dear. i hope you'll let me visit again soon."

"hell no."

"of course !" you and katsuki respond in unison. as expected mitsuki ignores her son's words and grins at you again. before she leaves she wraps you up in one of her tight hugs, thanks you for taking care of her son, then follows katsuki to the front door. the blond quickly throwing out a "i'll be back later !" loud enough for you to hear and you wave them off before you hear the door click shut. when they leave you heave a long sigh.

that was definitely one way to meet his mother, but you're at least happy it went well.

you truly hope this birthday battle really as harmless as mitsuki claimed it was, though..

after a few hours katsuki returns. not heavily injured, but extremely dirty and with tears in his clothes.

"katsuki !" you whine, walking over and inspecting his upper body and sleepy albeit satisfied face. you grab his face between your palms to get him to look at you. he closes his eyes, "i told you not to get injured !"

he simply huffs and nuzzles into your palm "m'not injured though. can see it can't you ?" he points towards his very exposed chest and his eyes shine mischievously at your flustered splutters. before you can get another complaint in he shoves his head into your shoulder and you squeal, pushing him away.

"no-katsuki, no." he growls lowly at your denial "you're dirty. go shower."

"s'my birthday-"

"you're stinky, birthday or not. you can't keep using that as an excuse you know." you snort, trying your best to stay firm, you quickly check the clock "your birthday's almost over by now." you push at his shoulders so he wouldn't get the opportunity to get comfy and try to coax you into cuddling with him.

he grumbles something unintelligible before lifting his head up to simply stare at you. "did you win ?" you ask and he huffs but he smirks

"nah, almost got her though."

"well, there's always next year."

he squints, scrunching his nose up at your words "she's not coming here next year." you squeeze his scrunched up nose and he pretends to bite at you. "stop being so mean to your mom."

"m'gonna go shower." he ignores you and you roll your eyes as you watch his tail trail behind him to your bedroom to get a change of clothes before making his way to the bathroom.

as soon as the door clicks shut you jump into motion. you bound over to the kitchen, reaching the fridge you slowly pull the chocolate fudge cake out. placing the candles on it carefully, sticking out your tongue for utmost focus. you're happy with the positioning, leaning back to admire your work. afterwards you quickly search for a lighter, and place it next to the cake, you smile when you hear the faucet turn off, just in time.

when katsuki comes out, hair still wet and puffy wearing a simple grey lounge sweater and sweatpants, you're standing in front of him. he raises a brow at your bright smile, he tilts his head back questioningly "what's up ?" he asks, suspecting some type of trick. but he was in for a surprise.

you lean forwards and grab both his hands to drag him over to the couch. "come on." you urge, pulling him along but keeping your gaze fixed on him. a huff of laughter through his nose, he barely supresses a curious smile at your giggles "what ?" he asks again when your closer to the couch.

"just siddown." you push him down rather harshly and he grunts in surprise. "i'll be right back !" before he can say anything you sprint to the kitchen and bring back his cake. "tadaaa !" you exclaim. his eyes widen.

"what's the cake for ?" he asks gruffly and you shake your head. "s'for you, silly !" you giggle. his confused stare has you explain further "for your birthday, it's what we do here." his eyes fly from you, to the cake, then back to you and you can't help but giggle.

"it's dark chocolate since i know you don't like overly sweet stuff, i figured this is sort of a rite of passage for human birthdays" you laugh, but you're interrupted when your body releases a loud "oof !" when your boyfriend's large body topples over yours. you wrap your arms around his neck almost instinctively with a loud squeak.

he doesn't say anything even as you call out to him, but you think you know what he's trying to say when he nuzzles against your neck and squeezes you tight, so tight you grunt a bit and pat at his back and he plops a wet kiss on your shoulder as apology. you smile, patting his back again, because you know what he's trying to say.

"alright big guy." you start rubbing up and down his back and giggling at his annoyed grumbles. "we still have to eat the cake right ?" you nudge your shoulder a bit to encourage him and he gets off of you after a second. he looks away from you with pink cheeks and scratching at his nape. l-let's eat it then." he mumbles. you can't help the smile that grows on your face, when you remember.

"i'll go get a knife-"

"wait, wait, wait !" you lift your arms into his face and his eyes widen "i'll go get it !" you're already getting up before he can protest fully.

"it's fine, i can do it-"

"no, no ! you. sit." you wave your finger at him and he crosses his arms "m'not a dog." he mutters, but he does as you say, begrudingly.

"c'mooon, it's your birthday right ?" you tease, laughing to yourself as you head over to the kitchen again hearing him groan a 'oh, fuck off'.

you come back with a knife, two little plates, two spoons and lighter. you place them on the little table in front of you and katsuki scans your movements carefully as you grab the lighter first. you don't think he knows what they are and thinking on it now, you probably should've at least shown him how they work. because his eyes practically bulge out of their sockets when you flick it on and the small flame comes out.

"the hell are you doin' ?!!" he shouts, quickly reaching over to grab your lighter away. you manage to carefully swerve out of his way, eyes also wide as saucers.

"what are you doing ??!" you excaim back

"why are you trynna set shit on fire ??!"

"i'm not--i'm just trying to light the candles-it's normal !!" you heave. you both stare at each other chest rapidly expanding.

"oh." is all he says. you let out a loud sigh.

"yeah." you breathe. his shoulder slump and he places his elbows onto his knees, opening his hand up signalling you to give the device to him so he could analyze it.

"you flick it on like this, see ?" you teach, showcasing it to him and handing it over so he can test it out himself. he spins it around in his hands, then flicks it on. his eyes scan the flame before he squints at it.

"f'you wanted a flame, you could've just asked me to do it instead of using this wimpy shit." your mouth almost drops in shock and you chuckle, of course he'd get jealous of the lighter. you reach for the lighter and he gives it back, not before fixing it with a scowl. you calmly now, light the candles slowly while he stares.

"i just need a little light, not a flame thrower." you jest.

"m'better than that too."

"oh, i'm sure of it." you decide to humor him, it was his birthday after all, though you are pretty positive he would be better than a flame thrower and a mini lighter.

you beckon him over and he leans towards you and the cake "now you need to blow the candles out, and make a wish !" his eyebrows furrows.

"it's just tradition." you explain, batting your lashes up at him. he drops his head with a sigh and smirks to himself before leaning in, closing his eyes for a few seconds, then he leans back as his chest expands, your eyes widen again.

"katsuki, just blow on it !"

he stops, annoyed " that's what i was gonna do, if you'd let me get it out."

"i said blow, not extinguish it." you quip. he growls then leans in, closing his eyes again to reiterate his wish (despite making fun of it at first he seemed to be taking his wish pretty serious) then softly blows the candles out, huffing out a laugh when you cheer and clap for him.

"man, i wish i'd bought party poppers.." you whine "guess that's for next year." you shrug off. unbeknownst to you, katsuki feels stupid, but he also feels his heart warm at how casual you uttered those words. next year for his next birthday here with you. he nods quietly.

you cut up a slice and place it on one of the plates, you grab a spoon and scoop up a small bite. then, you jokingly raise it up to your boyfriend who's cheeks burn bright red when you go "alright, say ahh !"

he squints at you "..seriously ?" you chortle.

"it's your birth-daaay.." you sing, inching the spoon closer to his face. he rolls his eyes, then grumbles to himself. he leans in, sharp teeth peeking as he opens his mouth with a half hearted "aah.." and taking a bite. you giggle seeing him look up at the ceiling to taste the sweet treat better, his eyes postively light up and he groans in delight when the taste finally hits. you sit on the couch, and try some of the cake yourself. it's heavenly and you hum in content "s'it good ?" you snicker with your mouth full.

"s'fuckin' good." he confirms, you snort. he let's his head rolls towards you, eyes still closed "gimme more." he demands, you roll your eyes but it's his birthday so you'll comply, feeding him another spoonful of cake.

you sit around like this the whole evening, eating cake and making jokes. and of course, finishing the day by watching a movie. you pull your hands from your boyfriends head in your lap to grab your phone, he grumbles but you ignore it in favor of checking the time. it's well over midnight now and katsuki's birthday is unfortunately over. you're happy, but it has you smiling sadly.

"what's up ?" bakugou raises a brow. his hand grabs yours.

"you're officially no longer the birthday boy.." you whisper, leaning down to place a kiss against his nose. he scrunches it and puckers his lips up, grouchy face and furrowed brows on display to get you to kiss his lips instead. you roll your eyes and even if it isn't his birthday anymore, you comply.

"was good while it lasted." he shrugs off, his eyes dart across the room "i--today was..fun." he admits bashfully, you smile sweetly. he looks up at you and closes his eyes with a huff, pulling your hand into his hair.

"'cept when that old bat barged in here."

"quit talking about your mother that way." you tug at his strands and he bites at you.

a beat passes and bakugou's pulling at your shirt roughly, and you squeak when he presses his lips to yours, pillowy lips biting at your bottom one and making you gasp which gives him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, grabbing the back of your head to kiss you deeper.

when you pull away, heaving and lips shining with spit and his hair tousled from your earlier ministrations he smiles softly. it's faint but his eyes shine as hard as his cheeks when he speaks "thanks..for today an' all." he plays with your fingers to hide his nervousness to meet your soft eyes "dunno why you care s'much about this birthday stuff," you try to speak but he bites at your finger to silence "but..m'glad you do, or whatever. had a good day. better be ready to spend it with me again next year." he challenges, smirking up at you.

you smile back brightly, because you'll be ready to spend it with him next year and the year after and the years after that. you'd make sure to be with katsuki for every human birthday to come.

(little did you know, it was katsuki's wish too.)

this took forever but this part is done !! i had a lot of fun writing this one and even tho im a lot of days late (lol) heres another katsuki birthday piece ! i hope yall enjoy reading !! <3 if yall wanna keep being tagged jus lemme know but im only doing this bc some ppl wanted to be tagged for the first part !

*if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( @doofusarena @queenpiranhadon @rosemarygalaxy @slashersl0t @andysdrafts @berryvioo @erenstitanweave @chuugarettes @stardyedkatsuki @atinytiredpanromantic @zaiban2989 @annepamgkrth @mxpl3s-castle @jastoo46 @nemisimp @niktwazny303 @cecee77 @m-inluv