#now i have forever blowing bubbles stuck in my head again

[armadillo1976]

Things I had to look up in Ted Lasso S3E01

What I’m not: American or British, or very well-versed in popular culture. What I am: curious and nerdy. So, a bunch of things I had to look up, for my future reference and for your convenience if you're in a similar camp:

“Doubt can only be removed by action” is a line by Goethe, supposedly? Does anyone have the actual German version? [edited to add: so it’s either „Die Tat ist alles, nichts ist der Ruhm“ or „Mit dem Wissen wächst Zweifel" but probably it’s misattributed / just one of those things people say and not an actual quote]

“What’s the buzz? Tell me what’s happening?” is a line from Jesus Christ Superstar

Beard is reading “The Miracle of Castel di Sangro”, which is a story of the unlikely success of a ragtag minor league soccer team in Italy; actually sounds like a great read, adding it to my list

Roy “finally watched” a film called Hoosiers, a title he doesn’t understand. Fair enough, since the term refers to residents of the state of Indiana, so it’s very US-specific – but for Roy, just like for me, it’s one quick trip to google away, so clearly both he and Keeley are being google-averse in this episode

Ted says, “What’s the frequency, Roy Kent-eth?”, which is a reference to a song by R.E.M. – so not very obscure, I should have probably got it – except the song title is a reference itself (to an incident when a journalist was attacked by a person repeating “Kenneth, what is the frequency?”, because he thought television networks were beaming signals into his brain, so that’s quite a story)

I get that “let Ted be Ted / let Rupert be Rupert” mirrors “let Bartlet be Bartlet” but I never figured Keeley for a West Wing fan so it’s more of a general sentiment I think? [a great note on this in the comments!]

Ned Flanders is a character from the Simpsons who does in fact look a bit like Ted

a reference that I did catch and that I’m intensely proud of myself for: “Forever Blowing Bubbles” on the West Ham stadium is the club’s song, and the reason WHY it’s their song and how it came to be is wonderful, look it up if you don’t know it but enjoy life being weird and whimsical

[fangisms]

all of the girls you loved

A/N: i am a SUCKER for a good song fic and obvi a sucker for some good Taylor content (gif creds: @merakiaes)

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Every woman that he knew brought him here. You want to teach him how forever feels. 2.6k words.

Warnings: so much crying why am i in a mood, fluff mostly!, song fic, song lyrics, pet names (poppet, dear), heartbreak, brief angst, ONE FUCKING CURSE WORD. jealousy, being stood up

1984

"your mother brought you up loyal and kind"

You'd been chasing the little red haired boy through the train station for the better part of the last ten minutes. But only because he tugged at your hair and stuck his tongue out at you. He started it. He's got this worn grey sweater, and you can tell his jeans were hand-me-downs from the patchwork in the knees. Probably from the boy, his older brother, with the wavy red hair carrying far too many books and stumbling up the train's steps.

Your antagonist giggles and ducks behind the brick pillar in the center of the station. You roll your eyes and round the otherside, tapping on his shoulder with a grin. He yelps and skitters away behind his mother. She has a small baby tucked in her arm and another cooing from a pram decorated with ribbons, lace, and wicker.

"Georgie!" She scolds him for tugging on her skirt before looking down to see your little face staring back at her. "Hello, dear, what's your name?"

The boy peeks his head out from behind her leg, round cheeks flushed a soft pink from all the running. You fold your arms over your chest and scowl at him.

"Determined little thing, aren't you?" she says with a sweet smile and kind eyes, "Have you been terrorizing this young lady?"

"It's not my fault, mum! She looks funny!"

"George. That's not how we talk about other people, now, is it?" she warns.

"No, mum."

"No, of course it's not. Now, you apologize this instant. Your brothers give me enough grief as is."

His wicked gaze meets yours, and you scowl hard as you can back at him. He squints. You purse your lips.

"I'm sorry because my mum told me so!"

You pout, "apology not accepted! I hope I never see you again!"

And with that, he watched the little girl with the wild hair and the polka-dotted pinafore skip away. Never to be seen again. Until the next year. And each year following the last.

1994

"teenage love taught you there's good in goodbye"

George has got a mouth full of the loudest bubblegum in existence when he comes roaring up behind you in the hallway, laying his arm across your shoulders.

"Evening, poppet. I assume you've heard the news," he chirps, smacking his gum in your ear proudly.

"You're disgusting, George," you say, shrugging his arm away but still matching his pace, "and I don't care that you bribed Niamh Ward into being your date to the Yule Ball."

"I didn't bribe her! She asked me and I said 'yes'"—he blows a gummy bubble in your face, and it bursts with a ringing pop—"D'you reckon she'll kiss me if I dance well enough?"

He twirls off down the hallway, ending his mini routine with a flourish of jazz hands.

"I don't reckon any girl will ever want to kiss you with moves like that."

"Oh, you're just a cynic. I'm perfectly snoggable, whether I can dance or not." He takes your wrist and drapes your arm in the crook of his own, and you scoff when he leans in to pop another bubble in your face. "Who's taking you to the ball, anyway? That Durmstrang halfwit?"

You yank your arm away and stop dead in your tracks. It's a well-known fact that you'd been waiting for George to ask you to the Yule Ball since first year. You thought for sure he'd ask you. But the time came and went and you each found other dates, other outfits, other plans. And you hate that deep down, a small part of you is still waiting for him to ask you. But you'd never do that to Niamh. Not even for George.

"As a matter of fact, yes," you say, "and his name is Johan—"

"What kind of name is Johan?"

He's still smacking his gum like he knows exactly how to get on your nerves. And after all these years, it's no wonder.

"You're so immature. I'll see you later."

"Oh, come on—"

"No, George," you huff, not turning around until you clear the corner and wipe your wet cheek with the sleeve of your robes.

...

The Great Hall has never looked more decadent. Draped in glitz and the magic of the holidays. Everyone's absolutely buzzing with excitement, ever-present gossip, and the beauty of students dressed to the nines. And in the midst of it all, you still spot him from across the room.

Of course, Johan is the perfect gentleman. He even asked if you'd like to match your gown to his traditional red dress robes. It was a lovely idea, and it wasn't hard to pick out a lovely chiffon, maroon dress. He said you looked beautiful and danced with you most of the night, but there was still that sickly ache in your chest like flesh and tendon left split by two cold hands. George's hands.

After you told Johan you didn't feel well, he left you alone at one of the shimmering tables. You felt bad practically leading him on, but it's not like you'd been lying about your attraction to him. Just about your attraction to George.

You don't turn to face the person who plops onto the stool beside you. You're pretty dedicated to flicking the thin straw around the rim of your glass at this point.

"I left my date to come talk to you, so you better have a stellar reason for looking so glum."

George. You know he's trying to cheer you up. And he knows it's not exactly working how he'd hoped. "Come on, poppet. It's the Yule Ball. You've been looking forward to this for, what, six years?"

He hates that when you turn to face him, you've got tears dripping from your chin, jaw, nose, lashes. He hates that there's a small part of him that wishes he could have fixed it for you. 

"What's wrong?" he whispers, scooting closer and catching a slow tear slipping over your cheekbone. You flinch away and lean your head in your hand, closing your eyes.

"You have no idea."

George chortles and shrugs, "well, yeah. That's sort of why I'm asking." You land a hearty wallop on his arm, not even looking when you swing your fist at him. "Alright, that was deserved. Now, tell me. I don't like it when you shut me out."

"Why are you doing this, George? Why don't you just leave me alone? Go hang out with Niamh or something," you say. It's accusatory, sure, but that's the point. The inflection was aimed for the heart. Spear tipped with arsenic just to make it sting more.

He chews the inside of his cheek, rubbing the back of his neck when you dodge his gaze and sniffle.

"That might be a tad difficult seeing how she stood me up."

Shit.

"George, I didn't mean—"

"No, no, it's okay. She caught a... a stomach bug, or something. Spent all morning hunched over the girl’s toilet," he mumbles, loosening his tie. And you catch just the smallest smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. Like there's some kind of amusement in his own misery. "I feel bad for her, honestly."

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea." You grab his hand and lean closer. He looks tired up close. Like the light usually at home in his eyes as twinkled out and left him dimmed.

"You've nothing to be sorry for. Fate is fate, after all." He brushes his hair out of his face and takes a deep breath, squeezing your hand. "Dance with me?"

Yes, of course, you want to shriek. I'd love nothing more from the boy who used to yank on my hair and call me names and tell me he loved my sparkly shoes. An honor, you think, but the words don't reach. Just a smile.

"Sure," you say, letting him tug you in the direction of the crowd. The right direction, you think, the direction you've longed for. Then he spins you into his chest, and you feel the shallow rumble of his laugh in your fingertips.

"Was Johan a better dancer than me?" he says, swaying your bodies like tender obligation. You cock an eyebrow.

"Johan stepped on my toes every four steps and nearly tore my dress."

"...So?"

"Yes," you tease.

"Shut up. Let me make this dance a good one. For you."

You look up at him and he thinks he's never seen someone look so clueless and yet so completely beautiful. From the gloss on your lips to the gems on your shoes and even now, mascara smudged and hands shaky, he thinks he'd like to look at you for as long as you'll let him. And when you shuffle closer between songs, he has to catch his breath against your temple.

"Your hair's gotten so long, Georgie," you whisper, slipping your hand up and over his shoulder, to the back of his neck with a smile pressed to his warm cheek.

"Like it?"

"I’ll always like it."

He pleads to Merlin you can't feel the rattletrap pounding of his heart. His hand moves of its own volition, spread across the small of your back like he's seen in some romance films. The slow dance scene is always the most romantic. The pinnacle of their love thus far. The event to dissolve any prejudice leftover in their heads, and any pride hidden in the last cracks in their hearts.

"George, I have to tell you something important—"

"Shh, poppet, just dance with me a little longer."

And you suppose. It could wait that little while longer. Another dance. Another day. It'd come up again and break your heart, but it'd be too pressing to put off eventually.

So you let him hold your hand a little tighter, sway you in circles a little slower, and keep your heart beating a little louder.

1996

"every woman that you knew brought you here // i wanna teach you how forever feels"

The something important you had tried to tell George that night was that you'd be staying with your estranged aunt in Spain over the course of the next school year. Your final school year. You'd be leaving Hogwarts—leaving George—and spending the year homeschooling over in Spain.

You left that Spring to spend your days in the Spanish countryside, drinking in the sunshine and dancing to the music of the cicadas. It had devastated George. It had devastated all of the Weasleys. They were so used to housing you most summers, and the change was quite unwelcome. Less place settings, less baggage clunking up the stairs, less laughter. He could only hope you were happy. And that he'd be able to see you again one day in the future.

"Georgie?"

You caught him off guard. He nearly tripped and cracked a tooth on the steps when you called his name. He and his twin brother had made a spectacle of Ninety-three Diagon Alley in the time you'd been away. And you had just happened to wander in and find him hurrying up the technicolor stairs after his brother.

Nothing felt real when he met your eyes for the first time in a year and change. The sirens and bells and sparklers went fuzzy as he realized just how beautiful you'd gotten since he last saw you. Beautiful enough to make him wildly nervous. Enough to make him sweat.

"My Poppet." He says it gently, grinning when you bat your lashes and hold your arms out.

"Christ, I've missed you, George," you huff, burying your face in his shoulder when he wraps his arms around you.

"You have no idea."

You tease him with a laugh, "Well, yeah," pulling away to wrap your lithe fingers around his tie. "Look at your hair! It's so short!"

"Like it?" He runs his fingers through the scruff at the back of his head. You squint and pat the soft tufts at the top of his head.

"I love it. You know I do."

He sighs, ushering you to the back of the shop all while trying to conceal a giddy smile.

"I've had an entire year to reflect on all the reasons why you abandoned me, poppet. I made a list"—He takes your wrist and drapes your arm in the crook of his own—"Starting with that time I told you your unicorn shirt was quote, unquote, 'for babies'."

"You have to include my stunning defense, Weasley"—you clear your throat—"'I am a baby, and you're just a rotten little boy!'"

"How could I forget?" He pushes open a door to the very neglected office towards the back of the building. Papers stacked on the desk, a cobweb in the corner. Well-loved. "A little privacy, mademoiselle?"

"I'd be delighted."

He sweeps the dust off a brown leather chair by the desk, offering the seat to you with a shy smile.

"Oh, George," you whisper, fiddling with the clasp of your purse with watery eyes and a pout like the one you gave him the first time he saw you.

"Come here, sweetheart," he says, hurrying you into his embrace with the feeling of being gutted by your sad eyes weighing heavy on him.

"There's just so much"—you gasp and cover your mouth when you sob—"So much I've missed and so much I want to tell you and so much I wish I had seen and done with you..."

"I know. I know, I feel the same," he huffs, "I missed you more than words can describe. I didn't know what to do with myself."

"I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I thought—"

"No. No, poppet, of course not"—he holds you tighter, pressing you to the curves of his body, holding you like clay and hot glass—"You came back, that's all I could ever ask for."

You pull back and let him wipe the tears from your cheeks, leaving faint kisses on each temple. And when he finally tears himself away from your skin, he's only left desperate for the contact. His thumb brushes you cheek, and you hold his wrist, lashes fluttering to meet his soft gaze. Desperation. Exhaustion. Relief. It's all there in the palm of your hand, and just at his fingertips.

Twelve years is far too long to be loving anyone the way you love each other. Completely but without the parts of love we sometimes need most. The honesty and openness, the comfort, and more than ever, the kisses. He curses his wild eyes for sweeping the length of your parted lips. His wild eyes giving away his secrets and calling him a damned fool.

You catch his mouth with yours, innocent at first peck, but he kisses you back, unsure of where his hands should go, wanting perfection, especially when your nose bumps his and makes you smile into the wetness of the kisses.

"I want everything," you whisper, forced to choose between air and George, "I have loved you since the day we met."

"That's very cheesy, my dear." He rests his forehead against yours, cupping the side of your neck, thumb resting gingerly over the column of your throat. Just to hold something delicate. Fragile. His.

"Think you can do better?"

"Hmm," he clears his throat, "You stole my heart and... I don't think I want it back."

"Gross! You win."

"I meant it."

He winks and pecks your bottom lip sweetly, only to realize you're tearing up, head tilted back and hands fanning at your eyes. He holds your waist and you shake your head with a defeated laugh.

"I'm such a crybaby."

"My favorite."

"You're awful, Georgie."

"I know," he says, finally, "I know."

masterlist

[oh-stars]

Her Steve

Coworkers

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 933 words | CW: misogyny | Rating: G

--

Robin kind of loves working at Family Video. It’s perfect in every way that Scoops Ahoy was a nightmare — excluding the last week she worked there, of course. The customers are more direct most of the time, either dropping off their rentals or swapping it out for something they know they want to watch, and when they don’t know what they want, they don't pester her about it. They’ll browse for a while, maybe ask a question here or there, and then be on their merry way once a selection is made. And sure she still has to clean, even more than she did before considering Family Video is almost double the Scoops Ahoy store, but it’s not the same. Vacuuming and wiping down the counters once a day (and even that’s iffy) is nothing compared to the forever sticky booths and having to sweep every hour at least so the store isn’t overrun with crushed waffle cones and sprinkles. Don’t even get her started on the uniforms. 

And best of all? She still works with Steve! 

But now instead of antagonizing him and making him the butt of the joke, they’re joking together and bitching about other people. They spend most of their shifts watching movies and talking shit about everything and nothing. It’s perfect really. 

Another perk of Family Video being so different from Scoops? It’s actually dead during the summer. Sure, there’s a boost of people at the end of the day when parents are getting off work, and you’ll find the occasional wave of people throughout, but for the most part, it’s dead during the week. Except for rainy days, which is so not today. 

They finished all their tasks on Monday morning, and they really haven’t seen a big wave of customers this week at all. Most of the people who show up are just dropping off the rentals they snagged for last week’s heat wave but now that the temperature isn’t melt-your-face-off hot, Hawkins is back to their regularly scheduled program of spending time outdoors when they can. 

To say they’re bored is an understatement. 

Which is why Robin created this oh so brilliant game. She checks the timer, still ticking away, and peeks up to see Steve practically vaulting over the shelves to get to the next movie he has to grab. They both made a list of ten movies — no genres and they only included the first letter of each title — to see who could get the most right in the fastest time. Steve just started his turn, pushing the go back cart so fast around the store the stuck wheel is about to pop off for good. 

“C’mon Harrington,” Robin goads from her throne behind the counter. Her feet are propped up on the surface, laying back as much as she can in the computer chair they have. “You know that’s not what I picked.” She can’t see what he has in the cart or his hand, so she has no idea if he’s right. 

They never promised each other a clean game. 

She can hear Steve grumbling but the bell on the door stops him from shouting back. He doesn’t, however, stop running around. 

Robin turns to find Jerry S. from band, a trombone player in her year. “Looking for something specific, Jerry?” Robin asks, not bothering to get up from her spot. 

Jerry opens his mouth, then turns toward Steve’s grumbling form as he pushes the cart down the action aisle. “Is that Steve Harrington?” 

“Yup.” 

“That blows,” Jerry says as he leans against the counter, shaking his head. “I think I’d quit on the spot if my boss hired him.” 

Robin crosses her arms and drops her feet from the counter. “Well its a good thing you’re not here for a job, isn’t it?” 

Jerry gives her a funny look, like he’s actually surprised by her sharp tone and bored expression that barely contains the rage bubbling within her. “Don’t tell me you actually like him?” 

“Yup,” she says again as her eyes narrow. “Are you getting a movie or not?” 

“Jeez,” Jerry says, holding up his hands, “no need to be a bitch about it.” 

“Alright,” Steve says, dropping the tapes into the cart and walking closer to Jerry. “That’s it. Out!” He makes shooing motions with his hand as he starts herding Jerry out the door. “You can say whatever you want about me, but you’re not going to disrespect Robin like that.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Deadly,” Steve says. “You can’t say anything I haven’t heard before, but we have the right to refuse service to disrespectful clientele. And might I remind you this is the Family  Video, so foul language is not permitted within these walls, dickwad. Don’t like it, take it up with the manager.” 

��Fine,” Jerry says, shrugging Steve’s hands away from him and pushing on the door. “Who is the–” 

Steve just flips him off and shuts the door behind him. He waits a beat, then spins back to Robin, clapping his hands. “I want a redo. I had like two more videos to grab and you weren’t paying attention to start the timer.” 

Robin glances down at the egg timer still ticking. “Mmm. I don’t think so.” 

“Oh come on!” 

“Fine. Go to the break room so I can make a new list,” she huffs. “But you’re reshelving everything after.” 

Steve just gives her a thumbs up as he passes to the break room, smirking. 

Robin rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t really mean it. That’s her Steve and he better not forget it. 

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[davidlcki]

What about detective Loki going through a terrible breakup? I know it maybe a little sad but 😅

HELLO THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST!!! we all hate to see sad loki but also i live for angst, so i hope this lives up to your expectations!

pairing: detective david loki x reader

WARNINGS: language, very depressed loki

tough break

loki stands in the middle of the apartment, brows furrowed as he watches you scream at him. hed never seen you so angry, and he didn’t know how to react. the two of you recently had been arguing a lot. ever since the dover case, hed became extremely distant. this usually happened when he was assigned a case, but this time was the worst.

“david. i don’t think you have said a single word to me in a WEEK. you don’t even sleep in the fucking BED anymore. when was the last time you even ate?” you shout as you stand before him. you’re met with silence.

“SAY SOMETHING. i- i cant do this anymore david. i cant keep worrying about you like this. and it’s worse that you WON’T COMMUNICATE WITH ME.” you shout, your face was almost completely red with anger as you stared into his blank face.

“stop fucking shouting” he finally says, jaw clenched as you stare in disbelief.

“oh. ok. THAT’S what gets you to speak? really? you know what? FUCK YOU. i genuinely don’t think you care anymore. do you even love me?!” you continue to shout as your anger gets the best of you.

“i said STOP FUCKING SHOUTING” he screams back, pointing a finger at you in anger. you go silent, and he knows what’s coming next.

“i’m done. we’re done.” is all you simply say, walking to your shared bedroom and beginning to pack your things. david opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. he’s stuck in place, watching as you throw your belongings in bags. you give him one last glance, a look that says ‘i didn’t want to have to do this.’ and then you were gone.

david huffs, anger bubbling over as he swipes everything off of the counter, glass breaking and liquid spilling over the tiles.

he covers his face with his hands, breath still coming out in huffs as he paces the room, occasionally pushing something over or breaking something out of anger. he loved you, he did, but he wasn’t good at it. in fact, he was fucking terrible at it. he had no work- life balance, and someone like him just couldn’t be in a relationship, he deemed.

for the first time in forever, he found himself considering calling out of work. but in the end, he figured it’s better to go than to mope around in his apartment. the next morning, he’s sat at his desk, eyes unfocused for hours as he stares at his paperwork. he found he could only think of you, and this time, he couldn’t take his mind off of you.

“fuck.” he curses out loud, earning a few glances from co workers as tears well up in his eyes. he couldn’t do this. david breaks the silence again, standing up from his chair aggressively and storming out of the precinct. he found himself wanting to lay in bed. so that’s what he did. he held it together as he got in the bed, but right as your scent floated off of your pillow, he was done for. a gasping sob escapes his quivering lips as he curls into himself. he felt so small, so weak, so stupid. he can’t remember the last time he even cried in the first place.

you were the only person he ever loved, he ever cared for, and now you were gone. you slipped through his fingers and he just stood by watching. he swore he would never forgive himself. half of the day must have gone by at this point, when his crying finally settled down. he gets up slowly, blinking away the rest of his tears and rubbing his puffy eyes. he pads down to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle and forcing himself to drink some of it. he couldn’t bring himself to eat, even though now it’s been a full day without food. he didn’t care.

a few days pass, and the same cycle repeats. he dosent go to work, ignoring texts from his boss, he dosent eat, and hardly gets out of bed. until now. finally, he musters up the strength to get up. he didn’t know why, he didn’t want to do anything but his feet seemed to carry him anyways. within the blink of an eye, he found himself outside. he hardly registered that he had walked out the door, but his feet continued to carry him straight to the park that the two of you used to hang out at. he frowns, sitting on the oh so familiar bench and taking in a breath. he needed to get himself together. he just didn’t know how.

as david sat in silence, feeling the cold wind blow against his face, he felt a sensation on his hand. quickly, he looks down and to his surprise, there was a stray dog.

“hey buddy” he mumbles leaning down to pet the whining dogs head. with quick examination, he knew the dog was starving, and just generally in poor condition, and he couldn’t leave him like this. the stray dog followed david eagerly, without hesitation, panting happily as david bathed him and fed him a large bowl of dog food that he had picked up from the store. for the first time in a while, david found a smile on his face, and although he knew there was definitely more pain he’d be going through, this dog ignited a new spark of happiness and hope deep inside him.

HI!!! THE ENDING WITH THE DOG IS SO RANDOM BUT I LITERALLY COULDNT LEAVE MY MAN LOKI SO DEPRESSED LIKE THIS. I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED!!! <33

[vicious-vixxxen]

Hi, first of all ur work is amazing and awesome, especially the Kiri fics they make me feel so warm inside :)) ANYWAYS I have a drabble idea: Katsuki with a flirty male reader from 1-B that likes to tease him and make him flustered and fired up as much as possible (kinda like Monoma but not as aggressive) and finally Katsuki decides that it’s reader’s turn to get all flustered and blushing and all that hehe :)

AH I absolutely LOVE this idea! Sorry it took me so long to get to it babes, but I hope you enjoy it :3 <3 Bakugou Katsuki X Flirty Male!Reader

“You think /you’re/ tired? I heard class A had to go through ten times the beasts we did yesterday, /and/ they didn’t get to camp until five.” TetsuTetsu huffed, rolling his eyes as he continued to rub at his sore biceps- falling behind as the class walked to their first official day of training. “They’re probably still struggling to work as an actual unit, how disappointing,” Monoma drawled, flinching as Kendo raised a hand at him in warning- her gaze cutting back to you with an apologetic smile, but you shrugged her off. “I’m just saying, if they were half as good as everyone assumes they are, then we wouldn’t have had to make dinner for everyone /alone/ yesterday. A bunch of unimpressive slackers, the fame is definitely getting to them.” “Oh give it a rest, Monoma! I swear if I have to keep listening to your incessant whining i’m going to roundhouse you so hard you slip into an alternate dimension,” You teased, though the sharpness of your tone, and the look you fixed the other boy with managed to reduce him to nothing more than some bitter grumbling, as you jogged ahead to follow directly behind Vlad-Sensei.

“Young Y/N is right! No use in comparing yourself to a separately tiered class, what you all should be doing is preparing yourselves for a day full of grueling training!” Vlad called out to the class behind him, as they came to their final stop. Looking out across the vast fields of the camp, where class 1A was already deep in training. All of them spread out to various areas of the site, some farther out than others, you assumed due to the volatile nature of their quirks. Some out of site all together, given the specificity needed to train their quirks. “The Wild Wild Pussycats have strict regimens for you all to follow, and I as well have critiques for you all regarding your fighting style, and quirk application. Check in with them across the field first, and regroup back to me so we can begin!” “Yes Sensei!” You all chanted back, before hurrying off across the field to do as you were told. Though once you caught sight of- and really, it was more his blood curdling death screams that you noticed first, music to your ears honestly- unruly blonde spikes off in the distance, you reasoned you had at least a few minutes to spare. Giving your classmates time to get their schedules and regimes before you could swoop in for yours last minute. The heat from Bakugou’s blasts was intense- your hair blowing back each time the other boy extended his palms to the sky, screamed, and released an explosion. The air felt thick, the scent of sweaty flesh, and deep, rich caramel wafting against your face, heady, and thick, with each blast. It was intoxicating. The closer you got, the more your cheeks flushed- though it had nothing to do with the heat anymore. Up close, or as close as you could get without being blown back entirely, that is- the more handsome Bakugou became. Pinched, angry expression and all. His front fringe of hair hanging low on his forehead, dripping sweat down onto his cheeks, and then onto the exposed upper half of his chest, bared due to his low rising tank top. When was Bakugou not absolutely breathtaking, you wondered idly, as you reached into your backpack for a bottle of water, and whistled loudly between blasts to catch the blonde's attention. Though the glare he fixed you with as your eyes met almost, almost deterred you from closing the distance between you both, it didn’t quite reach the innermost parts of your brain, meant for rational thought. “What the hell do you want!? Can’t you see i’m busy? Take your ass back to your class, extra!” Bakugou shouted, gaze falling to the bottle of water in your hand, before he focused back in on his task, baring his teeth in pain as the boiling water engulfed his hands. But you were too close now, it was too risky, and before you could think to back away on your own, Bakugou was crowding up against you. Spinning around on his heels and blasting in the opposite direction, back to you now. Shoving you backwards so hard with his own body you fell to the ground. Hissing as you landed on a particularly sharp rock. “See what you did?! I could’ve accidentally taken someone else out because of you! Fucking...gimme that,” Bakugou growled, shaking his hands of the smoke from his blast, before bending down to snatch the chilled bottle of water from your hand with one of his- his other reaching down to take hold of the front of your shirt, and tug you back up to stand next to him. “Always in my way!” Bakugou hissed, before throwing his head back and chugging down the entire bottle in a matter of seconds. Wiping at his mouth roughly, he turned to you slightly, noting the mischievous smile on your face, and the dirt on your shorts. “Tch...what?” He asked, knowing he was walking himself right into a trap. “Just admiring the view,” You sing-songed, skirting around his sudden extended fist easily, and dancing around the boy to get a good look at his training clothes. “It’s not everyday I get to see UA’s own Bakugou Katsuki in the midst of an intense training session. All sweaty, and bulking- muscles just….grr,” You laughed, holding your hands up in front of your face as you growled and made pawing motions at the other boy- bursting into a fit of laughter ass he reeled back, blush high on his cheeks, fingers twitching with the urge to blas your fucking face off. “You’re an insufferable piece of!-” “What I can’t seem to wrap my head around, is how you have such a big chest, such defined shoulders, and such a teeny, tiny waist,” You sighed, cutting Bakugou off with your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side curiously as you scanned him up and down. “Your tits are bigger than most of the girls in your class, ya know,” You added, as if an afterthought, waving a hand passively at the thought, though you couldn’t help but grin as Bakugou charged you- dragging you up by the front of your shirt again, and pinning you to the barrel of boiling water. One hand holding your head down near the bubbling surface, and one right next to your ear, sparking with unlit nitroglycerin. “I. Don’t. Have. Tits. You. Shitty. Extra.” Each word was laced with venom, husky and full of rage right next to your ear, and god. Was it fucked up you were kind of turned on? Probably. About as fucked up as it was to be genuinely attracted to Bakugou in the first place, you supposed. Oh well. Not much to be done about it now. “Say that to the mounds pressing up against my back right now, babe,” You teased, turning your head to face Bakugou, your noses barely brushing as you leaned in as best you could, given the hand in your hair- mouth curling into a knowing smirk as Bakugou’s face twisted back and forth- confusion, rage, annoyance, misunderstanding...want. “I’m sure your teacher would be thrilled to see you over here keeping one of my students from his training, instead of focusing on your own abilities,” Someone sighed from your right, and both you and Bakugou’s head whipped up to see Aizawa leaning against a tree, staring at the both of you with the most bored expression you could imagine someone having. “Tried to get the loser away from me, but he’s as persistent as the rest of his annoying class,” Bakugou huffed, letting you go, but not before pushing you in the direction of his teacher roughly- crackling his knuckles out in front of himself, and shaking his hands out. Prepared to continue his training. Though thoughts of your stupid face, so close to his- scent of your shampoo, and minty breath still searing his nose made him a trillion times more annoyed then he’d already been. The color of your eyes stuck with him the most though. So clear. So shiny. Full of authority, of mirth, and something so...gut wrenchingly /cute/, he couldn’t stand it. “Sorry, EraserHead. Didn’t mean to disturb your student. Was just being friendly is all,” You assured the older Hero, hands up in surrender as you walked alongside side him, and back to regroup with your class- smiling smugly to yourself when you noticed the barest hint of a smirk on Eraserheads face, just before he turned away and skulked off to whatever dark, cozy corner he had been observing his students from.

Training felt like it had lasted forever, and then some. The following days were no easier. Your bodies were pushed to their limits, and then thrown off the metaphorical cliff afterwards. Every day, class A and B were sore, tired, irritable. But even then, once lunch, and dinner came around, it offered you all a chance to get to know one another more intimately. You talked, and mingled with class 1A- flirting with Todoroki for fun, and picking Midoriya’s brain about his hero notebook- unaware of the red eyes following your every move amongst the classmates. Your flirting with Bakugou was at an all time high- given you could usually spare a handful of minutes each day teasing the young man, whether it be with words during training, lingering touches, or brushes of hands, and legs during dinner, or with outright winks, and kisses blown to the blonde as you all departed to your cabins for the night. It infuriated Bakugou to no end. Your presence. The way he acted out against you...his mother would suggest he needed an attitude adjustment, and that he should allow the fun part of camp to take precedent over his ultimate number one hero goal. As if he’d ever. But still, her frustrated words of encouragement never ceased to ease up as the days went by, and you became bolder with your flirting. Bakugou felt on edge constantly, like someone was going to crack a whip at him at any moment. Say something about it, say something about /him/, but no one ever did. Probably because they were scared. His only saving grace, he supposed. Being intimidating. Though he didn’t intimidate /you/, which was the part he hated the most. ...He’d just have to switch up his tactics, then. His mother would be proud. God, he hated that. After a particularly grueling day of training, everyone was running on fumes, more or less, as they shuffled around the outdoor kitchen, prepping dinner lazily. Monoma picking stupid fights with whoever he came across first, as though he were too tired to even do that. You’d been chatting quietly to Mina and Jirou about some of your favorite albums, when a whistle from across the counters had all three of you lifting your heads. Curiosity piqued to the fullest extent, as your gaze landed on Bakugou- pointing at you with a hard expression, before gesturing to the spot next to him at the cutting board station. His eyes downcast again before you could even register what was going on, before hurrying to head over before whatever demon that had possessed Bakugou, decided to get the fuck out of such a toxic human host. Beaming, you came to stand at Bakugou’s side, arms brushing against each other as you glanced down at the finely minced veggies the boy was working on. “You rang?” Brows raised in question, you ducked your head to try and catch the boy’s eyes again- stopping dead in your tracks as he grabbed a hold of your wrist tightly, and slid a knife between your fingers. Tugging you impossibly closer to his side, and reaching an arm around you to grab a stray carrot. Boxing you into the bench, and maneuvering your fingers carefully as he began to force you to chop the carrot below. His front was flush with your back, and suddenly you couldn’t breath. Breath hitched in your throat, flush high on your cheeks, as Bakugou bent down, face right next to yours, as he forced you to chop, knife always skirting a little /too/ close to your fingertips, but fuck it all if you weren’t willing to lose them for this encounter to continue. “All this time and you haven’t even learned to chop properly. Make yourself more useful, you shitty extra,” He grunted, right into your ear. A sharp shock of arousal shooting down your spine as he spoke, looking away suddenly as Bakugou turned to try and meet your gaze. “Eh? What’s the problem, extra? Cat got your fucking tongue?’ He teased, harshly, though his grasp on your hands lessened, and fuck you were gonna pass out if you didn’t start breathing soon. “Oh,” He huffed suddenly, snickering under his breath, as he crowded you in up against the bench entirely, completely flush with your back, before his lips ghosted the shelf of your ear, and he whispered “-probably because of my big tits, huh? Tch.” And then he was gone. Gone from your back, gone from the shell of your ear, gone from giving you a religious fucking experience, and thankfully gone from nearly making you jizz your jeans in front of the entireety of class A and B. Your hands shook where they now held the knife solo, and you glanced over your shoulder- watching Bakugou stuff his hands in his pockets, arch his shoulders, and stalk off to the cabins. Though not before you also caught the sharp, devilish smirk that twisted up on his face. What a fucking DICK. But a dick who was handsome as fuck, and knew exactly what he was doing. “Alright, Bakugou, you wanna play, big boy?” You whispered to yourself, voice shaky as you continued chopping vegetables. “I’ll bite. Show you how it’s done...right after I pass out, Jesus fucking Chri-” 

[thefanbasewhore]

Danger.

Summary: Din warned you not to follow him, it’s too dangerous. His instructions were clear, you stay in town while he goes to fight the Krayt Dragon, but if the baby gets to go, why can’t you? 

Warning/Content: This is short but violence, ya know the usual. Angry Din with some yelling but they make up in the end. Din sees reader cry for the first time. 

Paring: Din Djarin/Female Reader 

A loud gasp falls from between your lips as you watched another body wrapped in tan cloth is thrown into the sand only feet away, blood splatters feet away, painting your skin with effortless strokes.  The air felt thick from all of this tension, the mixture of blood and sweat filled the air. The sand was spotted with blood, the first attempt at blowing the dragon up failed, instead Mando began to fly around, distracting it, you could see him but he couldn’t see you, maybe it was better that way, but without a doubt he was right, you should not be here.  There’s a whoosh of air that knocks the Mandalorian inches from the rock you’re taking shelter behind. He must be a little disoriented as slowly lifted himself to his knees, hand out in front of him for support. 

This was a terrible idea, Din pretty much spent all of yesterday telling that you can’t go no matter how much you think you can handle it, he wasn’t putting you down, didn’t once say you’re not good enough, just more training before putting yourself out like that. Naturally, you disagreed with him. After spending a year and a few months together training, being with him but like usual Din was so right. 

 Here you are, hyperventilating against a bumpy rock that is digging so roughly in your back that there must be blood. With a light head shake of pain he looks directly at you, thank god his face is covered, not wanting to see just how angry he was.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”  His voice is loud, snapping at you with venom. “I told you no!” His eyes dart past you, towards the dragon. “Stay here don’t move until I get back. I mean it.” 

His tone is not one to mess with, you don’t move you barely breath as the whooshing of his jet pack flies past. Peering over the rock you couldn’t help but notice Din positioning, still as he holds onto the animal but the Krayt Dragon coming right for him. 

Before you know it, your feet are running towards him, mouth opening to yell his name but the jaws of the beast take him instead. There is no more breath inside your body, throat starting to close making it hard to even think, a dull ache fills your chest as you try to rub it away.

Vision starts to blur but you wipe it away quickly as a chorus of cheers fill the air. Din is flying above that carcass of the dragon, covered in a thick, green slime but alive to say the least. 

You don’t dare move a muscle, but even if you wanted to you don’t think you can. It all flashed before your eyes, living this life with Din wasn’t much but it was better then the one you had before. Your heart is beating so fast it’s suffocating, heat filling cheeks, turning them red from either the sun or the mass hysteria that almost was. So deep in thought you don’t noticing the Mandalorian standing in your personal space, arms wrapped across his chest, his tone is displeased. “Let’s go.” 

Not saying anything you shakily following behind him. The Mandalorian does not bother to look back, at least five feet in front of you walking in complete silence. And to be honest it scared you. Sure, Din would get annoyed, grumble to himself, but never ever has he been so angry at you. With how long you have been traveling together, Din was never quiet. 

The silence last about a full half an hour, trying to calm down before speaking to him. “Din, I’m sorry.” 

Once again, nothing was said. You sigh, catching up at him, hand meeting with the leather of his forearm, closer to the skin then his armor, silently begging him to look at you. “Din, Please. I’m sorry. I - ”

“No.” He mumbles. Usually he would love your close proximity, smelling the sweet floral perfume, feeling the heat of your body he scowled away. “You don’t get to Din please me! You get no say at all right now! I asked you to stay back, I asked you for one thing.”

“Din, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thin-”

“Wasn’t thinking?!” Din’s fist clench next to his side, a force a habit really. “For putting us both in danger? do you know what I would’ve did if you’ve gotten hurt or killed?! Not only did you put yourself in danger you put me in it too, I couldn’t think straight knowing you’re there! Who would take care of you if I died?!”

Despite the situation your skin heats up quickly at his words, blood bubbling underneath. “You’re one to talk! You willingly got eaten alive by it! What if you couldn’t get out?”

Din tries to talk but you keep going. “Don’t turn this around on me! I would not be the reason you died, and take care of me? You’re so full of yourself, I bet you go around telling everyone that the kid isn’t the only one you take care of.”

It clear Din doesn’t like what you’re saying, before you could even react he is an inch away from your face, finger rising in the air, poking your chest, it’s not hard at all, it doesn’t hurt but there to show you he means his words. “Don’t you talk about me like that. You know what I meant.. do not turn my words around on me.”

His close proximity along with the touch on your exposed chest, the heat of this planet making normal clothes almost impossible to bare made you blush, you wish it didn’t. “You can’t blame this all on me, you almost -.” 

You hate the way tears fill your eyes, throat clogs with emotion, cutting you off. Small hand meet with his chest plate, pushing it away. “You almost died.”

To say Din was stunned was an understatement, his jaw dropped under the helmet. Never, ever in the whole year since you joined him had he seen tears but man, he wish he never said a word. It made his heart sink, watching those eyes grow red, puffy with emotion as they slip past eyelashes. Emotion bubbles inside his own chest to match the loose sob that falls from your lips. The strongest woman he’s ever known.. breaking down in front of him and it’s all his fault. 

“Stop.” You didn’t mean to loose it like this, but it could not be helped. The yelling, the way his words burned against your heart. You choose to ignore his words, sniffling, avoiding his gaze at all costs. 

“Stop, please.” This time it was softer, almost like begging. His gloved hand, wrapping around your bare wrist gently, pulling you closer to him. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

Eyes are as wide as saucers as he places a soft hand against the nape of your neck, pulling gently to meet his forehead. It’s quiet for a few moments before he speaks. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“No, you’re right.” You mumble, surprised at the sudden touch of intimacy as his free hand cradles your cheek, angling your head to look up at him. The pad of his leather glove wipes the falling tears.

“That is no reason to make you cry, I’m sorry for yelling. I’m sorry for not realizing how much was at risk when I did that, I didn’t want to hurt you. I never want to.” His voice is low as he admits it, “You are the strongest woman I know, I never doubt you, you can fight, you can take care of yourself. I’m sorry for making you feel like you can’t because truthfully you care for me more than I ever did for you.”

You’re about to say something else but his words are out before you can even open your mouth. “I didn’t want you to come because I’m afraid to loose you.. you mean a lot to me and I’m too selfish to let the world have you.. for that I’m sorry.”

“Din.” Voice horse as pressing against his gloved hand, “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize for wanting to keep me safe.”

“But I never want you to feel stuck, I’m sorry I said that to you, you can take care of yourself.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You argue, “I know you didn’t mean it, besides if there’s one person in all the galaxies, I know you’ll always be there to take care of me.”

He groans, “Don’t say that cyar’ika… I don’t like how it sounds. It’s undermining you, I didn’t mean it.”

The last of the tears begin to dry, but now that Din has finally made the move to hold you, comfort you he doesn’t want to let go, he wants it to be like this forever. 

“I know I’m difficult and that you -.” He doesn’t need to finish you already know what he’s going to say.

“I care for you Din. I always have.”

He pauses, “Good, because I love you.”

This makes your throat dry, but a happy smile curls against lips. “You do?”

“Mmmm.” He agrees, hand traveling from red cheeks, curling the tips of your hair to down your arm to where his hand meets your own. He doesn’t bother to curl his fingers with your own but instead gives you the choice, “Let’s go home.”

“Only if you promise to keep calling me cyar’ika.” Smaller fingers fill the gap between his own with a cheeky smile makes him chuckle.

“Don’t push your luck..” He waits a few seconds as his boots press forward, “Cyar’ika.”

The Mandalorian couldn’t never hold a grudge for long anyways

[nationalharryleague]

One Day

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Drunk!Harry Fluff!

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi all! This is some drunk boyfriend harry fluff that I just love sm. It’s based off of “One Day” by Catie Turner (I highly recommend listening to it!!) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think in my ask! Thank you so much for reading! 

***

Harry was the life of the party when he wanted to be. He knew how to let loose, with a tequila on the rocks in one hand and a beer in the other, ready to party until he (literally) dropped. He always ended up on some sort of elevated surface like a teenage girl, usually a kitchen island or an absurdly expensive coffee table, singing along to whatever music was playing, magically knowing every word to whatever came over the speakers. Sometimes he would get lost in the winding corridors of the massive mansions his friends lived in, taking a wrong turn in his enhibrated state and ending up somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be. There was also one time he jumped off a (thankfully low) roof into the swimming pool below.

But usually, he was calm, cool, and collected; gently sipping on a single drink he would nurse for most of the night. The two of you liked to sit and watch during these parties, his hand settling securely on your waist, keeping you close to him and away from the chaos that unfolded before you. You would curl up on a couch somewhere and just watch it all play out like it was an observational study, often giving commentary and ranking people and their drunk dancing out of 10.

“I feel like we're the mean girls in the corner of the cafeteria who just sit and silently judge everyone around them,” you would giggle, nuzzling yourself further into his side.

“That’s because we are the mean girls in the corner judging everyone around them, sweetheart” he would reply, in a slightly buzzed drawl.

But tonight was not one of those nights. And Harry had ended up standing on top of the dining room table scream-singing ABBA at the top of his lungs.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic and messy performance. His limbs flailed freely as he wiggled his hips along to the beat of Dancing Queen, singing into a small statue of a naked woman he had picked up off an end table that you assumed to be very, very expensive, like it was a microphone. He wore a pair of high rise denim flares that swayed along with his movements to the music and his white “Women are Smarter'' shirt was now stuck to his body with sweat, just see through enough for his butterfly to make an appearance.

He only came down after a green malaise began to settle over his features, skin slightly clammy and a bit pale. You extended a hand, helping his loopy body down off the table and letting him settle into your side for support once he was on solid ground again. “Let’s head to the bathroom, H,” you said gently, trying to settle the panic that was beginning to crawl into his eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

Once he got to the beautifully large and extravagant bathroom, he crawled into a small, or as small as the large man could make himself, ball and rested his hot clammy cheeks against the cool marble of the floor. “May have overdone it,” he grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as you were sure the room was spinning for him.

“Ya think?” you teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when you were met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” You carefully dug through the cabinets, knowing there had to be washcloths somewhere in the lavish room, and once you found one you dampened it with cold water. Settling down on the tile next to him, you pulled him and his sweaty curls on to your lap, wiping the layer of sweat delicately from his skin and then resting the cold cloth on his forehead.

You two stayed in this position for a while, carefully rubbing his back in an effort to sooth the large man and trying to ignore the loud music that was still shaking the house around you. He looked small like this, no longer your giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. You were happy to be that person, as he always was for you.

This was the first time you had ever seen him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end. He had been working like a dog, constantly in and out of the studio, frustrated that none of the songs he was writing were up to his astronomically high standards for himself. It wasn’t too shocking that he was trying to escape that stress.

Gradually, as he laid on the floor and you held him close, the color came back into his cheeks and he stopped holding onto your legs like the room was about to take flight. When you sat him up against the wall, he was still a bit wobbly, but no longer looked like he was about to unload his stomach contents all over the room.

“How are you feeling now, H?” you asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress as you dabbed the washcloth over his skin.

“’m okay,” he hiccuped back, “jus’ needed a cuddle.” He got exceptionally British when he got this drunk, his accent coming out in a barely distinguishable garble of tall vowels and dropped consonants, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at you, his light green eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off too one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.

You should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. His behavior and subsequent need for you to take care of him should have gotten under your skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into your chest. But it didn’t. You were just taking care of your man.

“Do you still feel nauseous?”

“‘m a-ok, babay” he said, making himself giggle with his rhyme. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “OK” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the tile beneath him.

“Okay, funny man,” you began sarcastically, planning on instructing to drink the glass of water you had retrieved on your way up to the bathroom, when he cut you off.

“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the loud belly laugh that fell past your lips. He took the glass from you and began to sip, a proud smirk never leaving his lips as he looked at you.

“You were a comedian in a past life.”

“I agree.”

You two were quiet for a bit, Harry drinking something other than tequila for the first time the entire night, and you just admiring him in silence. You let your hand crawl into his, interlocking your fingers together before bringing it up to your lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. It wasn’t long before his glass of water was finished and he crawled back into your arms, his back pressing to your chest with your arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. Your fingers ran through his still damp curls, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when you heard the little happy mewls coming from him.

“Ya take such good care of me,” he said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence you two had created together.

“I always will.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the hard wall behind you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign, to both of you. But you meant it when you said it, you loved him, and your body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved you too.

You had met through work when you interviewed him for the magazine you worked at. From the moment you saw those dimples in real life, you were weak in the knees and enamored with him. You hadn’t been trying to flirt, it just happened. And before he left the office, you had a date planned for that Friday. That was 6 months ago now and they had been some of the happiest of your life.

“Will you marry me?”

The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took you a moment to process what he said, but when you did your heart stopped.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, because you did, but not now.

It was too soon. There was still too much for you to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about you. You hadn’t even had a serious fight yet; you didn’t know how he dealt with conflict or how you would react to it. You didn’t live together; you didn’t know how your living habits would match up or if they would drive each other insane. You didn’t know how you would deal with him touring being away for so long.

There was just too much you didn't know.

“I will someday.” You spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. You were now holding his face tenderly, like if you held him steady and close, you could lessen the blow.

“So, no?” he looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch you in the gut.

“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”

“Jus’ wanna be with you forever,” he said softly and your heart began to melt. He was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and you loved him for it. You pulled him closer to your chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.

“And you will be,” you breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”

“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like tequila and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as you tried to pour all your love for him into it.

“Because we still have to grow,” you watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about you both being grown already. “We have to grow together,” you finished.

“I guess so,” he mused softly.

“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”

“Someday,” he repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, ya know?” he smirked up at you, his smile and joking tone signalling that you hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.

“That’s perfectly okay,” you sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to your own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, ya know?” you teased, using his own words against him.

“One day, I’ll make an honest woman outta ya when you let me.”

“One day.”

Thank you reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!! 

[why-not-a-tickle-blog]

I was wondering if you could do something where Virgil gets stuck somewhere and the twins find him and team up to take advantage of the situation? Thank you in advance, your work is amazing!

Warning: Intense tickles, maybe you could say bondage? It’s just the rope trap and Virgil’s own shirt

Of all the things to happen in the imagination. And of all the people for them to happen to, it happened to be Anxiety, caught in a trap.

It was a simple rope trap, snagging his ankles and jerking him upside down, hidden well enough that even with all his wariness he hadn’t seen it.

“I don’t even hardly go in the imagination and then the one time I do I get stuck,” Virgil grumbled.

He’d tried to get out, twisting and thrashing and grabbing, but it didn’t do any good. He was lucky he wasn’t human, or the blood rush to his head would’ve become painful. As it was, he was just exhausted from thrashing and very very bored of being stuck.

And then he heard footsteps.

His heart beat faster, worried that the Hunter had arrived. He wasn’t sure what the imaginary hunter might do, but he was still more than nervous.

“Ohhh~ look what we have here~” a very familiar voice said.

“Remus,” Virgil sighed, relieved. “I’m glad you’re here, can you let me down?”

Remus walked around in front of him. “But I caught you~”

Remus made a summoning motion, and Roman rose up. “Look what I caught, Ro~ weren’t you just saying earlier you wished you could find someone a little stuck for a few pokes~?”

A few pokes… Virgil’s face went red and he covered his stomach.

Roman grinned at his reaction. “I did say that, didn’t I? Maybe there’s a reason this little Stormcloud let himself get caught, hmm?”

“I-I didn’t! Not for— not on purpose!” And he hadn’t, truly, had anything of the kind in mind when he’d wandered into the imagination. Now though, presented with two grinning Lers, butterflies were growing in his belly.

Remus sat down in front of Virgil’s face, tugging surprisingly gently at his arms. Virgil had already spent his energy on thrashing earlier, and didn’t have much fight left in him to resist. His arms were pulled down, so they dangled straight, which made his shirt flip up over his face.

Roman moved his shirt so he could look him in the eyes, more serious now. “You can say no, now or anytime.”

Virgil blushed at having to admit he wanted to be tickled now, even just by not saying no. “Thanks,” he mumbled, biting his lip.

Roman grinned, evil and hungry looking, dropping Virgil’s shirt to cover his face again.

Virgil squirmed, the skin on his exposed torso tingling in anticipation. Remus held both his wrists easily in one hand, leaving three hands and a whole imagination’s worth of tools ready to tickle Virgil at any moment.

Fingers lightly touched his ribs, and Virgil jolted and squeaked.

There was a dark chuckle from one of the twins.

The fingers scribbled lightly, and Virgil burst into giggles.

“I want to keep him forever~” Remus said. “He’s mine, I caught him, and I get to tickle him for ever and ever, hours at a time~”

Virgil squealed as the scribbling fingers reached one armpit and scribbled even faster.

“I love the idea~ so long as you share your prize sometimes~” Roman teased.

Virgil felt two hands grip his hips, and squirmed hard, his giggles ratcheting up to laughter just from the anticipation of tickles on his hips and belly. The two hands held him still as a long, loud raspberry was blown directly onto his bellybutton.

Virgil squealed and laughed helplessly, already his squirming not working to help him, as tired as his muscles were and weak from laughter.

Remus seemed to understand how incapable he was of protecting his weak points, and let go of his wrists, attacking both armpits at once.

Virgil cackled and laughed, squealing again when Roman blew another raspberry on his belly.

Roman squeezed and scribbled at his hips, blowing many small raspberries all over his belly. Remus’s hands crawled up to taze his ribs, and Virgil was lost in laughter, tears of mirth leaking from the corners of his eyes.

Then they stopped, both at the same time, letting Virgil catch his breath.

“I have a game for you~” Roman said. “Guess correctly where we tickle next, and you get a little break. Guess incorrectly, and we tickle you till you squeal~”

Virgil wouldn’t know. He couldn’t see past his shirt. He was going to get so tickled, he knew it. Excitement bubbled up in him, nearly making him giggle even without any tickles.

“My turn first then!” Remus said, sounding as excited as Virgil was. “Where am I gonna tickle, giggly darkling~?”

Virgil’s mind went to the sensation of Remus’s fingers in his armpits, and on his ribs, and his sides, and each spot tingled, nearly tickling already. He didn’t know. Didn’t have a way of knowing.

“Come on, you can guess~” Remus teased. “It’ll only tickle so much when you get it wrong~”

Virgil could barely keep the giggles at bay. “A-armpits.”

“Wrong!” Remus said gleefully, tazing and scribbling at Virgil’s ribs.

Virgil laughed and squirmed, jolts of tickly sensation running through him. And then Remus started nuzzling, his mustache rubbing against the sensitive skin on one side, while both his hands were free to taze into the other. Virgil squealed, trying to push Remus away, but his arms were far too weak.

A few more seconds that felt more like hours later, Remus stopped, rubbing soothingly as Virgil hiccuped and giggled, trying to get his breath back.

“Where will I tickle you~?” Roman asked, before Virgil had gotten his breath back.

That was right, the correct guesses were for breaks. He was glad they still paused for a little, rather than Roman asking while he was still laughing his head off.

“Behehelly,” Virgil guessed.

“Nope~!” Roman said.

Virgil wasn’t sure then where he was going to go. Belly was a wide guess, even sides and hips were sort of counted in it.

And then a hand squeezed at his thigh. Virgil yelped embarrassingly loudly.

“Surprised you with a tickly spot~” Roman cooed. “Get ready to squeal~”

Roman scribbled lightly along the backs of Virgil’s thighs, and Virgil couldn’t help laughing. But then he squeezed again, just above his knee on his left leg, and finding that awful horrible amazingly ticklish tendon on the right.

Virgil squealed and shrieked in laughter, his body jerking with more energy than he thought he had left. Roman kept going a bit longer than Remus had after the first squeal, and when he finally stopped Virgil went nearly limp, gasping for air.

“You ready to be done?” Remus whispered in a more serious tone.

“Can—“ Virgil gasped. “After a break… can I have more belly tickles.. before done? A— a lot?”

He was glad for the shirt hiding his face, as he blushed dark.

Remus hugged him suddenly. “We’d love to.”

“Awwww~” Roman cooed. “Such a tickle-hungry lee~”

Virgil blushed even darker.

“Since the lee wants a lot, I want to use tools!” Remus said excitedly.

“Oh yes~” Roman agreed. “Brushy tools particularly~”

Virgil squirmed, barely biting back the whine.

“What if one of us tickles the belly, and the other gets to focus all their attention on the button~?” Remus asked.

Roman’s chuckle was pure evil. “Yes.”

Virgil did whine that time. “Don’t tease!”

“Don’t tease~?” Roman asked. “Us, not teasing our sweet captured lee? Impossible~”

“It makes all the tickles tickle more, doesn’t it~?” Remus said knowingly. “So when we scribble at your belly it’ll be all tingly and ready to burst with laughs and giggles~! It’s so perfectly stretched out for us too~ with no way of getting away or curling up~ just waiting for us to play with it just how we like~”

Virgil whined and squirmed.

“I think if he’s able to whine he’s able to be tickled, don’t you?” Roman asked.

“Oh yes!” Remus agreed, and suddenly Virgil could hear the sound of buzzing.

He squirmed and whined, twisting back and forth.

Hands grabbed his hips again. “I guess I’ll have to use some magic to tickle the button, if I have to hold you still~” Remus teased.

Something liquid touched his belly, and Virgil gasped. A hand spread the oil slowly over his belly and poked into his bellybutton, making him squeak.

“You ready for a lot of tickles~?” Roman teased. “Actually wait~” he bent down and tapped Virgil’s chest and his throat gently. “Don’t want you running out of air, and now you can’t!”

They were going to tickle him till he went insane!

“The little button gets the first tickle~” Remus said, brushing circles around Virgil’s bellybutton with an electric toothbrush as Virgil shrieked with laughter.

Roman scribbled around the rest of his belly and sides, often blowing raspberries.

Remus quickly went from circling to dipping the brush into Virgil’s bellybutton.

Virgil couldn’t stand it! It tickled so bad! It was like his brain floated away from his body, leaving only sensation and laughter. Squeals and shrieks were pulled from him by the two tormenting his belly. He never wanted it to stop. Nothing mattered in the slightest except the fireworks of tickles constantly being set off. He didn’t even have to worry about catching his breath.

And then Roman decided it was his turn to start using electric toothbrushes, far more than two hands could hold, and Remus was also squeezing sporadically at Virgil’s hips.

All his laughter became a silent scream, the sensations starting to blend together, his whole belly a tickle spot.

He managed to bump one arm against Roman’s leg.

The two stopped immediately. Remus rubbed his belly gently, and Roman helped to very gently and carefully get him down.

The forest faded away, replaced by a cool, dim room and a very soft bed.

Virgil felt all glowy, still riding the high from all the tickles. One of them offered him some water, and the other laid beside him, rubbing gently up and down his arms.

“Did you have fun?” Roman asked quietly, his tone hesitant and almost worried.

“So much fun,” Virgil said, a grin still on his face as he hugged Roman.

Remus hopped into the bed behind him, hugging also and running his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“If I get this kind of treatment every time, I’ll start looking for traps in the imagination…” Virgil said sleepily.

“I’ll make some just for you,” Remus said immediately. “Anytime you want.”

Virgil leaned his head into Remus’s hand, weakly tugging Roman a bit closer. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Roman’s knuckles brushed against his cheek. “You can sleep, Emo.”

Virgil drifted off, still floaty and happy. “You two are the best…”

[kanene-yaaay]

Sentence Starters - Part 1

I decided to gather all my Sentence Starters in a post. This is the first round! 

Thankys for all the awesome askys and lovely words. It was very fun to rite all of this!

[~.~]

[Is that a smile?]

"Wait, wait," Kaminari stopped the study session, gathering everyone's attention as he got up from his chair, hands resting on the tabletop as he inclined himself on Iida's direction, a grin on his face, "is that a smile?"

Iida immediately blushed, the smile disappearing as he brought his attention back to the notebook in front of him. "No. It was not and I-I apologize for the distraction."

"No, no, wait, dude! Make it come back! Oh, the pain of the seriousness descend upon us again." The blonde cried in faux despair, Kirishima at his side picking up the opportunity of having a break after hours of studying, his eyes flying to the TV's screen behind them.

His eyes sparkled as he saw the characters having a tickle fight on it.

"Bro," he felt a true smirk blossoming on his face, looking his gaze with Kaminari, only to see the same playfulness mirrored at him. "Don't tell me that-"

"AS I WAS SAYING!" Iida immediately cut his sentence, wobbly lips and loud gestures, his gaze flying just about everywhere. "I just remembered I have a very informative and rich book about this topic in my room!" He got up, titters already bubbling on his throat when he noticed his friends following his movements.

He took a few steps away. "I will get it and be back shortly!" Iida adjusted his glasses, strict pose. They wiggled his fingers.

"Don't worry! We will help you."

"Yeah, bro! It wouldn't be very mainly of us to not offer a hand after all the help you gave us, right?"

"Oh," Iida reasoned, "I see."

And then he dashed away.

He managed to just have a few steps before two arms hugged him from behind in a firm, yet gently, grip. The blue haired-boy will forever deny the true squeal that escaped from his lips at this moment, or the barely contained giggles as Kaminari appeared in front of him, fingers clawing the air next to his ribs.

"Now, let's see that dazing smile, shall we?"

[~.~]

[Awww, you’re just a big, strong, giggly bear!]

"Awww, you're just a big, strong, giggly bear!"

Yagi almost could feel the smirk, just as much as he could feel the heat completely taking over his face, smile going from an ear to another, snorts and fast giggles pouring from his lips.

"Am nOT!" His voice failed when Hizashi found a very tickly-ticklish spot right on his upper rib, prodding and poking there, "Nonono nohohoho, wait! Not thehehehere!" his other hand scribbled lightly on his neck, not helping in any way his actual, rather silly, state. "I am!! I ahahaham!"

Now was Hizashi's turn to laugh, taken back with how quickly the number one hero gave up with just a few gently tickles. "Quick like that? Come one, little listener! Where is your resolve? Your determination! You fire!!"

Yagi just shook his head, a squeak running from his mouth. "Plehehehehease!"

"Well, well," Hizashi made a big show of thinking, giving Toshinori some time to take a few breathes, "if you really want me to stop you already know what to say!" And, in a few seconds, he was back at his 'attack', scratching his nails on the other's side, snickering as his friend wiggled on the place.

"No! Anyhihihihi- Anything but thahahahahat!"

"I am waiting. ~"

"Okay! Okay!!! Plehehehehease!" Yamada hummed, slowing his tickles to a finger going up and down Yagi's torso, keeping giggles, yelps and titters filling the air. "I-I ahaham an ahahahamazing friend and peheheherson and - oh gohohohod, no pokes! - and Ihihihi deservehehee nice thihihihihings!"

"You sure do!" Hizashi stopped his attack, blinding smile. "Your giggly bear."

[~.~]

[ I promisse I am doing my best!]

"I promise I am doing my best!" Midoriya half grunted, half protested, pulling the capture's weapon from his friend and only managing to trap him further on it.

"I can see." Shinsou deadpanned, doing his best to not smirk with the other's slight pout in his direction. He laid his head on the tree behind him, closing his eyes, already accepting his fate to hear Aizawa's complaints of him being reckless for doing extra training with a new move and no supervision. "I am going to die here. Give everything I have to my cats, except for the Eraserhead's autograph, that will be buried with me."

That time he failed to control his smile when the fanboy gasped. "YOU HAVE AN ERASERHEAD AUTOGRAPH?"

"Yep."

"Shinsou. I need to see it. Now."

"I can't man, I am stuck." And in a flash all Midoriya's efforts where redoubled. "You're really such a fanboy."

"It's an autograph from Eraserhead!!! You know how much rare this is?" He cried (not literally) in response. "Can you try to at least help me?"

Shinsou opened one eye, lazily, the excited gaze staring him back almost made him feel bad about his next words.

Almost.

"Nah, I am going to take a nap."

"WHAT. Shinsou!"

Shinsou didn't answered, keeping his eyes closed.

"Shinsou."

That was, until he felt a squeeze on his hips, a surprised squeal flying from his mouth, eyes flying open.

Midoriya was smiling, eyes gleaming.

"Midoriya." Another couple of squeezes, his body squirmed from a side to other, a wobbly smile starting to take form on his face. "Midohohoriya, don't you da- NO! You suhuhuhuck!"

"Don't worry, Shinsou! With both of us giving our best you will be free in no time! Plus ultra!!"

[~.~]

[Shhh! you gotta be quiet!]

"Shhhh," Sero chastised with no heat on it, trying with all his soul to not laugh out loud with the mess of giggles and half-French sentences that was Aoyama. "You gotta be quiet! You don't want Aizawa-sensei finding us wake at this hour, right?"

The other just shrieked on his shoulder, hugging him tighter as Sero concentrated his tickly efforts on the back of his ribs, poking his way to the spine and coming back to re-start the cycle.

"Çahahah chatouille! So muhuhuhuch!"

"Sorry, man, I literally understood nothing you just said."

"Mehehehercy! Sero, mercyhihihihi"

"I know that one!" Sero beamed at the change to tease more his friend, happy in see the previous bad mood from the blonde's nightmare disappearing at each snicker. "Merci is 'thank you'. Awwww, you're welcome man! You know I am always here, even if it is to tickle-tickle-tickle all your sadness away!"

Aoyama yelped at the silliness, attempting to concentrate, words and languages losing meaning on his mind. He still tried, nevertheless.

"Tickles!!!! It tihihihihickles!" The black haired boy changes his technique to scribble all over Aoyama's neck, fishing a couple of squeaky giggles. "Non, Sero, non!"

"Yes! Tickles! It's such a cute word, right?" Sero ignored his friend's denying, especially as his words were accompanied by the other melting more on the hug, arms never pushing him away. "And it has a nice ring on it. Like, tickle tickle tickle tickle tickly ticklish tickles. ~"

Giggles and snickers cut the night, filling their hearts and smiles with warmth and joy, and, at this moment, that was all that mattered.

[~.~]

[ "You can't be serious about this." ]

"You can't be serious about this."

"Well, you dipshit, I clearly am! Let me fucking go, now!" For the fifth time, Bakugou struggled - not enough to really escape, but both decided to be quiet about this detail - on Todoroki's hold that pinned him on the floor of his room. Colored eyes stared him back, blinking a few times, curious.

"WHAT." He questioned, ignoring the slight heat to dust his cheeks.

"So, you're not ticklish?"

"Of fucking course I am not. I am not weak like you extras!"

Todoroki hummed and poked his stomach. "I don't think it's a weakness." He watches with analyzing eyes the way the other squirmed and his lips were pressed firmly, looking for any real discomfort but receiving only a 'tsk' on his way. Huh. Adorable.

Poke. Poke. Poke. A quick scribble. Prodding. Prodding. Prodding.

"And this looks like it's affecting you."

"That is because - tch, stop that damn pohoking! - you keep touching me, you half and half creep!"

"No, I think it's because you're awfully ticklish." He wormed his hand to the blonde's armpit, scratching there and freeing a tiny smile for the way his friend's chest shook with trapped laughter. "I am ticklish too."

Bakugou's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "I am getting you back!"

Todoroki hummed, nodding and letting go of Bakugou's hands, immediately attacking the boy's armpits with a vigor that resulted in a mix of crackles and loud laughter.

"Okay," he dodged from Katsuki's hands, which flied on his direction, trying to tickle any available ticklish spot they could find. "I won't let you succeed, then."

[~.~]

[ Theeeere we go! There’s my happy girl/boy! ]

"Theeeere we go! There's my happy girl!" Eri squealed in response, squirming, wiggling and thrashing in an attempt to escape the nimbly fingers scribbling on her armpits, her legs kicking just about everywhere. "That is right! Hear those awesome laughter! Oh, is there a song more melodious than that? I don't think so."

"Paaaapaaa!!" The younger girl protested, "don't behehe mehehehean!"

"Sorry, sweetie, but there is no Papa here!" Hizashi stopped the tickling in order to hold the girl in the air, his 'malefic' grin losing for a second its evilness to show a genuine smile as Eri giggled harder. "I am now the Tickle Monster and I love to tickle sweet little girls just like you! Mwuahahaha!"

"Dahahahahad!" And in less then a second Eri was captured by Aizawa, who held her in a hug, blowing raspberries on her neck. "No! No!" She shrieked in delight "No more tickle monstehehers! Nahaha!"

"You smile is beautiful and don't let anyone say you otherwise." He mumbled, giving her a final, loud raspberry before meeting her eyes. Eri nodded, reminiscent giggles and squeaks still escaping from her mouth, especially when Yamada decided to crush both in a bear hug.

[~.~]

[ “Come on bro-you needed this.” ]

"Come on, bro," Kirishima tried to not laughter out loud as Bakugou turned at him, flames on his eyes as the bucket - previously full of water - fell from his now wet hair. "You needed this."

Bakugou tensed his legs, arms spreaded, ready to attack.

"I was just, ya know, helping you to cool down."

"I WILL SHOW YOU THE DAMN COOL DOWN, YOU SHITTY HAIR."

Kirishima even tried to dodge and run, however it didn't take more than a minute to find himself laid on the floor, Katsuki pinning his arms under his knees, hands kneading his thighs with vigor enough for him to immediately fell in belly laughter, not that Ejirou would try to hold his reactions, anyway.

"Come on duhuhuhude! Takin- ah, not that! - Tahahahaking revenge! That is sohohoho unmanly!!! Hehehehehehe!"

"MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT BEFORE DUMPING A FUCKING BUCKET ON ME!" Bakugou retorted, with no real harm, hands switching between tickling the thighs and squeezing the calves, eyes attentive in finding the best spots so he could focus there, snorts freely following his actions. "Stupid rock and his stupid puns. I am going to kill that fucking chicken when I see him again."

"Bu-buhuhuhut, bro! Didn't you know that revenge is-"

"Don't you dare!" The blonde attacked his sides, scratching and prodding there, all his efforts concentrated in not letting the other's next words come out. "Don't you fucking dare if you know what is better for you, you shitty hair!!"

Kirishima struggled, crackles flying from the gigantic smile plastered on his face, a playful glint on his eyes showing how much fun he was having with that. He did his best to take a deep breath.

"Don't." His explosive friend warned.

"Dihihidn't you know that revenge is better served cold- nO NO BAHAHAHAHAHAKUGOU! I'M SAHAHAHAHARRY!!"

[~.~]

[Did...did we just break Todoroki?]

"Did..." Midoriya gulped, staring at the teenager still laid on the floor, back turned to them making it impossible to see his previous red face, with a big, full grin stretched on it. He had been like that for the past three minutes. "Did we just break Todoroki?"

Iida peaked from his hiding spot behind the couch, had been dragged there after Midoriya thought the other would be quick and merciless on his revenge. "I don't think so, Midoriya. Maybe he is just resting in order to recover his energies!"

Izuku nodded, hand holding his chin as he frowned in a thoughtful face.

'Or he is planning a sneak attack.' His brain provided and the one with green curls found himself staring at Iida, who still faced their other friend innocently. An evil idea lighted his mind, not even slightly heroic but...

He felt the sudden urge to giggle, the mental image of the serious, taller boy laughing and having fun too much appealing for him to stop his next words. "You should go check him."

"Me?? Why? Don't you think he will ti-" a lightly blush painted Iida's cheeks and he stumbled a bit on his words, adjusting his glasses as distraction, "I mean, attack me?"

'Oh, absolutely.' His mind provided, making it even more difficult to keep his straight face.

"No. And if anything happens you're the quickest one here!" Midoriya beamed, adding when the teen didn't seemed convinced. "And I think he actually fell asleep."

"On the floor?!" Iida was up in an instant, walking on Todoroki's direction. "That is unacceptable! He can suffer from an awful back and neck pain from being on this position for too loONG!"

His last words were broke by a shriek as his legs slipped on the patch of ice created under his feet, making him lose his balance enough for Todoroki to jump and lock an arm around him, digging his fingers on his armpit.

"Boo."

A wall of ice surged in front of Izuku, making him 'eep', Iida's laughter and incoherent babbling filling the air as Shoto clawed his stomach, eyes staring deep into Midoriya's soul when the boy turned to look at him, a playful small smirk plastered on his expression.

"You," the one with green hair felt a shiver run down his spine, a wobbly, excited smile taking over his features "are next."

[~.~]

[ It’s been a while since we’ve done this.]

"It's been a while since we've done this." Her words came out in between reminiscent giggles, the ghost feeling of fingers from their tickle fight still gazing at her skin, the night breeze being enough to lead to a few small yelps before her laughing began to finally die. "I almost forgot how adorably tickle you both are!" She took total advantage of the fact she was laid in the middle of them to distribute a couple of playful pokes.

"Mehe too!" Mirio smiled, bright and happy, pushing her hand away only for her to lightly push him back and both be captured in a roughhousing, his attention being deviated when Tamaki turned to the other side, curling in a ball, silent giggles shaking his body still. "Hey, Amajiki, how didn't you tell me your calves were ticklish?!"

A flustered squeak flew from the shy boy, who needed a few seconds of silence before being able to answer.

"I didn't knew about it too..."

"Aw man! So many tickle fights I could've won!"

"You're welcome! Now, because of my brillant discovering we can enjoy plenty of snorts from our cute Suneater here!" Nejire winked, sneaking a pinch on the blonde's cheek, who retailed with a quick squeeze on her side, both snickering at Amajiki's whine. "Wait, you used to lost the tickle fights?"

"Yeah!!" Togata rolled to pull his childhood friend on a side hug, letting him hide his red face on his neck. "Amajiki has the best sneaky tickly attacks! I never saw it coming before it was too late!" They chuckled. "The best sneaky attacks and the best sq-"

His sentence was stopped by a crackle as two fingers tased his ribs and made him jump away from the other.

"I-" Tamaki gulped, keeping the determined look firm on his face, even as he felt his cheeks burning again as his two friends turned at him with surprised smiles. "I am g-going to ti-tickle you. A-again."

Mirio blew a raspberry at him, Nejire full laughing in the background. "Your neck is almost as bad as his calves, though."

Suddenly her voice was extremely close and Mirio turned around in the exact moment her index finger was almost touching the said spot. "Hey! Don't!"

"Your face!!" She only laughed harder. "Remember... Remember on our first year when I sat behind you?"

"Yes," now was his time to laugh, the memories of high pitched squeaks when the girl would randomly scribble her pencil on his neck flooding their mind. "Mic sensei praised my 'high note', that one time!"

"I think Aizawa sensei almost expelled you both because of those." Tamaki added, in a small - but deeply fond and amused - tone.

"I couldn't help it! You jumped every single time." She protested, too much distracted to notice Togata getting closer, a playful smirk on his face. "It was so cute!"

"I bet it wasn't cute than this!"

"Nono! Mirio!! Nohohohot agahahain!"

Tamaki only smiled, the sound of teases and laughter making a warm feeling take over his chest.

They never said the exact words but it was very clear by the smiles, the memories, the care in every act.

They would be forever happy for the friendship they had.

[umiarumi]

fucking three houses | ignatz victor

in the wise words of cupcakke, slurp that dick til it cum (smack my ass like a drum)

You skidded backwards as Byleth landed the finishing blow to your side. Stumbling, you let out a defeated huff and dropped your training sword, stretching your arms.

"Jeez teach, even after five years comatose, you still best me in sword-fighting. And that's meant to be my thing!" You guffawed, heavily breathing in between words. You outstretched a gloved hand to your teacher, meeting his blank stare.

"It's mine too." He said, shaking your own hand. You deadpanned before bursting into laughter again.

"You'd be right on that one, teach!" You shook your head, continuing to grin at him, retracting your hand and letting it rest on your hip.

"Your reflexes have sharpened, and your footwork is impressive. You've trained well." He complimented, at which you felt your cheeks darken.

"Ah, thanks! Any constructive criticism?" You hummed, placing the sword back into the pile.

"Yes, you need to put more strength into your strikes." He explained, replacing his own.

You nodded gratefully, looking up to the sky. The sun started to set, a few spotty clouds resting above the two of you.

"I'm turning in for the day, (Y/N). I will be in my personal quarters if you need me." He bid you goodbye before strutting off like usual. As simple as the guy was, he had this odd charm.

"Guess I'll turn in too then... nothing wrong with a stroll around the monastery!" You cheered to yourself. You wiped your sweating face with the sleeve of your top before sauntering off.

~~~~

As you walked alongside the grassy plains of the monastery outskirts, you spotted a small green figure crouching in the distance. You could barely spot them among all the spurts of long grass decorating the land. You walked slowly as to avoid startling them, squinting to see what the hell it was they were doing. On further examination, you recognised that choppy, blonde head of hair.

Continuing to saunter to his destination, you soon picked out exactly what it was he was doing. Painting! You two had talked about your secret hobbies, your own being reading. You smiled at the thought, remembering how shocked each of you was to each other's hobby. You thought you had a pretty strong bond with Ignatz when you returned, so now seems a good time to have a chat!

You approached behind him quietly, taking time to, for once, keep your voice at a low volume.

"Uh, hi Ignatz!" You whisper yelled, flinching as the dirty blonde jumped in surprise. He turned around, breathing a sigh of relief after registering who it was.

"Oh! It's just you, (Y/N). You shocked me, haha!" He nervously greeted you, fidgeting with his paintbrush.

You grinned, waving at him. "Sorry man, I tried not to scare ya!" You chuckled bashfully, before sitting down next to him.

"So, whatcha painting and how are ya doing, Ignatz?" You asked, looking over to him curiously.

His gaze landed on your own, his earthy eyes seeming to be stuck to your own, a tension almost bubbling.

He shook his head, smiling softly at you.

"Ah, simply the view. It really is quite mesmerising in the evening, wouldn't you agree?" Enthusiasm built in his tone as he explained, his soft smile turning into a gleeful grin, matching your own.

You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. "I agree! I never really took time to take in the sights of the monastery, but now that I've matured... yeah, it really is a beautiful place, huh?" You hummed, looking off to the villages surrounding the base of the mountainous terrain.

He simply hummed to your question. "You're right (Y/N), you've really matured." He complimented, at least, that's what you hoped.

You gave a short laugh, scratching your neck. "Yeah, thanks! I used to be a rowdy one, but I think the past few years have smoothed some of the edges. Not all of 'em though!" You cheered, tilting your head appreciatively. You looked to him, catching his lingering gaze. His face heated up slightly, nodding to you.

"If you don't mind, I uh, have a request..." He mumbled, refusing to meet your eye. He pushed his glasses back, taking a quick peek at your face. If you blinked you would've missed it, he seemed so shy right now!

"Sure thing! If it isn't gold or assassination plans, I'm open!" You beamed, leaning in to hear what he had to ask.

He chuckled anxiously at your response. Even after knowing you for such a long time, having a girl so close to him was nerve-wracking.

"Nothing of the sort, don't worry. I was wondering, well, may I paint your likeness?" He muttered quietly, his heart stammering. His stomach drops after a few seconds of silence before daring to peek at the mystery of what your expression could be.

However, he was pleasantly surprised at what he saw. Your face was dark, lips pursed tight in a taught smile. You stuttered as you replied.

"Y-you wanna paint me! For real?! This is such an honour, seriously, thank you Ignatz!"

Ignatz gasped, anticipating anything but your reaction.

"Oh really, it's no worries!" He waved his hand dismissively, his own face reddening like a tomato.

The two of you continued to throw gratefulness at each other for what seemed like forever until you found yourselves at his dorm.

~~~~

"Well Ignatz, what kind of painting would you like to make?" You asked, sitting on a plush, velvet stool in his room. You looked around the place, noting the birthday flowers from Byleth, the spare easels and art supplies.

"Well, whatever you'd like truly, as long as I may paint you." He answered, humbly smiling and looking down at you.

You smirked, raising a brow. "How about a nude painting then?" You asked teasingly, crossing your legs.

He smiled at the idea. "Oh, what a good idea! I haven't had many references for the female anatomy and I've always been interested in..." The colour seemed to drain from his face as he realised just exactly what you suggested.

You stifled a chuckle, watching him stutter and rush to speak.

"O-oh! I didn't realise, no, I mean of course I would love to! Ah, that's too forward, no um... I don't want to pressure you, argh!" The colour which had left soon returned in the form of a crimson storm.

You laughed, shaking your head.

"Ignatz, really, it's no worries. I would genuinely not mind, I'm happy to as long as you are." You attempted to calm him down, smiling.

He took a deep breath, nodding.

"Then, yes. We're both adults now, there's no need to freak out." He seemed to try to convince himself rather than you.

"Exactly!" You smiled, standing up. "Alright, I'll undress now." You hummed, thinking.

You had already teased him by suggesting a nude painting, and stripping in front of the blushing boy... you could make this fun for yourself. And maybe even both of them. Claude may have just had a point.

You held his gaze as you unclasped your armour, placing it down on his desk, avoiding the parchment and sketches.

Next, you untied your cropped top, letting it fall to the floor leaving only your bodice on your upper half.

Undoing your bra, you broke his gaze for a moment only to look back immediately. His body seemed to stiffen, in more ways than one, once he caught sight of your breasts slightly bouncing as you stopped stretching.

You wiggled out of your puffed pants, sitting back down to pull them all the way off along with your boots and leggings.

"Nearly there!" You huffed, as you stood back up, shedding your underwear.

By then, Ignatz' face had erupted into a furious blush. His eyes lingered all too long on your exposed vagina, causing you to grin teasingly as he met your gaze.

"Now, shall we?" You asked, sitting upon the comforting stool once more.

He seemed to snap out of his daze at those words, tugging on his coat. Pulling out his desk chair, he set it in front of you. Pulling his easel across the room, the slight scratching of wood against wood was the sole sound of the tension-filled room.

Setting a canvas down, he seemed to take a few deep breaths before grabbing a pencil.

"How would you like me to pose?" You asked, smiling. This could be interesting.

"Oh, yes, uh, however you'd like to, really!" He stumbled upon his words, before finally holding your gaze.

"Got it." You responded. How could you tease him further? As you contemplated, you finally came across a decision. You leant one leg over another, giving him a subtle view of your exposed cunt.

You raised your arm, letting your gloved hand sit beneath your chin. Your upper arm pressed against your left breast, giving you slight cleavage, You gave him your signature cheeky grin, before raising a brow.

Speaking through your teeth, you asked him a question. "How's this?"

"J-j-just perfect!" He stuttered, shutting his eyes tight before reopening them and focusing.

"Now, hold that pose for me?" He asked, finally confident and contained. At least, on the outside.

You were content with holding your pose, as long as you could continue to tease him after he finished his sketch was your real goal. Whether or not anything transpired... well, you'd be lying if you said you didn't want anything to.

As you waited, you watched Ignatz' face morph into one of pure concentration, reminding you of how admirable he was. Despite his preference to stay on the quiet side of things, he was a talented man. Both on the battlefield and in the artistic field.

Minutes passed until Ignatz' face settled into a satisfied smile, signifying his completion of the sketch. You grinned wider at this, his face was adorable when he was proud!

"Thank you, (Y/N)." He thanked you. Refusing to look in your direction, he was reminded of the tightness in his pants.

"No, thank you, Ignatz! Actually... it had me wondering... may you do a favour for me?" Your voice dropped into a whisper, so his gaze fell upon your figure. Your eyelids drooped as a sultry smile fell upon your lips.

He gulped at this, yet nodding nonetheless. "Anything."

"Wonderful." You commented pleasantly. Standing up, you sauntered towards him. Aware of his gaze dropping to your softly bouncing tits as you took confident strides towards him.

Once right in front of him, looking down upon his still seated form you grinned.

"Let me... repay the favour you did for me?" You asked, tilting your head, curious.

He swallowed nervously once more, before nodding shyly. He fiddled with his hands, struggling to meet your gaze.

"How... how would you like to do so?" He mumbled, occasionally peeking up at your towering form.

"Well, if I put it bluntly... let me please you." You deadpanned, the loose smirk on your lip tugging back into place on your face, cheeks steadily growing rosier.

His face officially became a competitor for ripest tomato, and he nodded excitedly.

"Please... do." He muttered.

Your lazy smirk grew into a full-on grin. Quickly, you dropped to your knees.

He gasped at the inclination of your actions, his jaw staying dropped as you worked his pants downwards.

You slid his undergarments off, his cock bouncing free of its strained containment.

You licked a stripe up his cock, leaving a trail of saliva in your wake. He shuddered, a slight moan escaping his taught lips.

You gave a kiss to the bulbous, pink head of his dick before letting it slip in between your mouth.

His breath shuttered as you began to work a continuous up-and-down rhythm on his cock.

He gasped in time with each bob of your head, his hand slowly reaching its way to the back of your head. He looked down to check with you for permission, and you winked, giving your best inclination of consent.

And with that, he began to thrust into your mouth and push your head at the same time. God, he was insanely fast and rough, but you controlled your erratic throat muscles. It was pretty damn hot, especially for a guy so shy.

Your hand snaked down to your dripping pussy, the situation you orchestrated obviously having an effect on yourself. Not a negative one though, not at all.

You harshly began to rub your clit, not bothered with dragging it out. You were looking to climax, and by the sounds of Ignatz, he was too.

As you rubbed your sensitive bud, you moaned around his dick. The vibrations caused Ignatz to shudder, closing his eyes tightly.

"I'm gonna cum! Ah, (Y/N) you're making me cum!" He moans, groaning as you felt his cock still, and as the warm, bitter burst of cum in your mouth exploded, so did you. Your pussy clenched around emptiness, yet the throbbing in your clit as you orgasmed satisfied you all the same.

Your head slipped off his softening dick, a pleased smile settling on your face as you swallowed. As bitter as it was, you had nowhere else to hide the evidence.

"Thank you, Y/N)... that was... so good." He whispered, giving you a sweet smile. He leant down and kissed the top of your head and you chuckled.

"But I must ask, is that what you were learning whilst you were gone for so long?"

"Ignatz!?"

[tangledinmdzs]

out of my league - junior quartet hcs

how the juniors would react if someone (a little kid) tried to make a move on you

aka. the juniors fight over you with a worthy opponent

Lan Sizhui

Sizhui sighs quietly from where he sits

it was unnecessary for him to be as nervous as he was

but this was his first time meeting your family, as your boyfriend

at one of your big family functions nonetheless

although you had reassured him that it would be fine, he still feels way out of his depth

considering how so many people were here today

and also...

there was already some competition

“y/n is the love of my life,” 

SIzhui nods, a bit amused, a bit intimidated by the first grader that had sat down next to him on the living room couch

at first, Sizhui had thought that the kid was just well, a kid

but when Sizhui learns that the little boy (by the name of Bao Lan (or Bao-Bao as you like to call him)) is a close (really close) family friend

and that well, you’ve been babysitting this little boy practically since he was born 

so the attachment to you isn’t much of a surprise

SIzhui’s more surprised at the kind of attachment that’s developed

“i am going to marry y/n when i grow up” the little boy delivers when Sizhui’s trying to enjoy a small bite from what he’d grabbed at the snack table

Sizhui doesn’t really know how to respond to that, because you’ll probably be a lot different from how you look to him now when he’s finally old enough to marry him

Sizhui also feels the lightest bit of jealousy that such a little man can assert your hand of marriage so easily

but before he can say anything, you come back to the living room, smiling at the both of them before taking a seat in between them

the little boy smiles at you, and because he’s still pretty small, easily climbs into your lap

is Sizhui jealous? 

absolutely of course  not

“hey, munchkin, what are you talking about with my special friend here?” you ask the little boy 

Sizhui feels slightly irked that you refer to him as your ‘special friend’ when talking to this little boy because he wasn’t just a special friend he was your boyfriend for god’s sake-

“i’m telling Sizhui-ge that i’m going to marry you when i grow up,” the little boy explains smiling a wide smile at the laugh that bubbles from you as you hold him on your lap

“ahh, my little donut, if you marry me that means you’ll have to live with my forever, do you think you can do that?” you tease the little boy, 

“yes!”

“if you marry you have to make me happy all the time, can you do that?” 

“yes yes yes!”

“are you sure?” you continue to ask and the little boy only nods more vigorously

you laugh at the reaction turning over to Sizhui who’s staring at the little boy with a funny kind of expression,

“he’s tough competition,” you whisper to Sizhui leaning up to him before leaning down to blow raspberries against the little boy’s neck

Sizhui smiles, looks down at the little boy when he’s done giggling in your arms, 

“look forward to winning y/n’s heart against you, Bao Lan,” Sizhui says, absolutely seriously and holds his hand out for Bao Bao  to take 

you muffle a giggle as Bao Bao’s tiny hand is completely enveloped by Sizhui’s much larger hands

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

Lan Jingyi

Jingyi loves his little cousin to pieces

because he’s a cute kid and witty despite his young age

but right now

when he watches his little cousin, Ru-Ru you guys call him, completely latched onto you ever since he’d introduced you to everyone at the family dinner

it’s the second time that Jingyi has tried to hold the toddler for you (he can tell your arms are getting tired) but Ru-Ru stubbornly wraps his tiny legs and arms around you koala style

so you’re stuck,

“aw Ru-Ru, y/n-jie has to eat too,” Jingyi tries to convince when he brings over two plates to you and Ru-Ru,

“Ru-Ru can feed jie!” Ru-Ru announces and Jingyi sees the slightest widening of your eyes

because for however much you loved little kids, you (unfortunately) didn’t love Ru-Ru enough for him to get sauce on your new blouse,

Jingyi also has a similar reaction to you, if only for the reason that only he could feed you and no one else

even if that someone else was a 5 year old

“ah, behave now Ru-Ru, come sit with me,” Jingyi tries to say but then Ru-Ru does the most out of character thing and starts to cry

Jingyi is completely in shock, watching flabbergasted as you try to calm the child down 

“Ru-Ru, don’t cry it’ll make jie sad too,” you tell the little boy who’s face became red and blotchy at the idea of being separated from you

you bring the boy into your arms, holding him close as he clings to you, 

while your arm pats Ru-Ru back, laying on your shoulder you give Jingyi a small look to the dish that he bought for you

at first Jingyi doesn’t get it, but then he sees you open your mouth

and as Ru-Ru falls asleep to your gentle pats, Jingyi feeds you as he usually does

as he’s meant to

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

Jin Ling

you’re sat on a park bench, eating a small popsicle

the weather is nice today, which is why it seems that the playground that you’re sat near is busier than ever

Jin Ling sits on the bench beside you, both of you just enjoying a more laid back sort of date

because you’d both been so busy lately to actually plan something 

it’s still nice nonetheless

and everything had been going well when suddenly

there was a shrill cry

you both look up from the bench to see a small little boy, bawling his eyes out at the bottom of the kiddy slides

you’ve always been protective, especially in situations where someone is hurt

so you’re quick to give your uneaten popsicle to Jin Ling and rush over to help

when you get to the little kid, you’re checking for any bleeding because the cries sounded terrible

“hey, pumpkin, where are you hurt? is there a big boo-boo?” you coax the young child and after a few murmured exchanges between the both of you, the child points to his knees

you’re gentle when you lift his pant leg up to check, relieved to see just a bit of redness and nothing to scraped up or bleeding

Jin Ling stands to the side, holding the melting popsicles in his hand as he stares at the kid

“aw, don’t worry, no more owwies” you tell the little boy when you rub his knee gently

the little boy sniffles, and Jin LIng watches (irritated more than amused) as the boy stares at you

“jie” the boy whimpers to you and you hum to him, worried that he might still be hurt

“can you kiss it better?” the little boy asks and before you can even reply Jin Ling butts in,

“it’ll still hurt if she kisses it, doesn’t matter,” 

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

Ouyang Zizhen

you’re on a picnic date with Zizhen, at one of the little parks near your neighborhood

you guys are the picture of ‘couple-y’

him lying besides you on his arm as you sit near by, throwing grapes into his mouth

it’s a very cute and relaxing date, one that you both had been looking forward to having for a while

between your classes and Zizhen’s job, you barely have had time to see each other

finally, Zizhen thinks happily when he looks up at you

you smile down at him when you catch his eye, giving him the last of the grapes before you reach down and grab your own snack

you’re both just enjoying each other’s company, Zizhen easily being lost in your eyes

so he doesn’t notice the little boy that’s run up to your guys romantic date until he hears the little chirp of “hi!”

you turn to your side, face naturally smiling at the boy, maybe like 6 or 7 years old, smiles at you in greeting 

“hello there mister,” you greet because the little bow tie and suspenders outfit that the little boy has on is quite adorable

Zizhen sits up to watch the interact, his heart swooning at the sight of you as you talk to the little kid

“miss i asked my mom to let me come here to tell you that you are very very very pretty,” the little boy compliments and you giggle, 

“why thank you, you look very dashing yourself,” you reply back and the little boy smiles and suddenly grabs your hand

“will you play with me? and be my new friend?” the little boy asks and Zizhen tilts his head from where he’s sat up behind you

sure this kid is cute, but your date with him-

“i’m sorry, but i’m kind of in the middle of hanging out with a special friend of mine now,” you tell the boy 

you coo at the little pout that comes on his face before the little boy chirps again,

“can i be a special friend too?”

“ah, there’s only one special friend that she has, sorry little dude,” Zizhen interrupts when he sees your hesitation (like WOW okay)

you muffle your small laugh by turning back to the little boy and pinching his cheek 

Zizhen huffs a small smile at the sight of you two

the little boy would be such a cute kid if he wasn’t trying to take you away from him

[mss4msu]

Wildest Dreams

Summary: Moving from friends to more than friends is a sometimes risky choice; will it work out with Steven Rogers or is the idea of romance with him best left in your “Wildest Dreams”. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Words: 2378

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Have had a long ~dry spell~ due to writer’s block. Spent an hour reading this silly Taylor Swift: Girl Detective story that I got at a local store and then got all up in my feels listening to 1989. Lyrics are italicized, but ignore them if that makes things weird. 

“He said, ‘Let’s get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds.’” 

“And how do you feel about that?” Nat asked, blowing and subsequently popping a large bubble gum bubble as you packed. 

“I said yes, but I’m anxious about it. I thought we were casual, but this feels like he’s trying to elevate this...whatever it is...to the next level. Heaven can’t help me now, I’m either in or I’m not.” 

“I mean, nothing lasts forever, might as well live while one of you is young,” Natasha winked at you. 

“But this is gonna take me down a road that I don’t know that we’re ready for….” 

Nat cleared her throat, “He’s so tall and handsome as hell,” she mocked your voice, “It’s not like he’s this oh so bad boy or something to be worried about.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah...but everything he does he does it so well. I’m worried I can see the end as it begins….”

“Ready to go?” Steve Rogers asked, lightly knocking on the door as he peered in at you.

You felt the burn of embarrassment heating your cheeks and quickly zipped up your suitcase.

“Yep!” you called, gauging his face to see if he’d overheard.

“Have fun you two,” Nat blew and popped another bubble as she skipped out of your room with a wink back at you. 

You anxiously readjusted your dress as you stood up from your suitcase, “I think I’m ready.” 

He held the door open for you and took your suitcase as you walked through. He took you by the hand and you felt a shiver run through your spine. Looking up at him you saw the goofiest grin; you’d never seen him look so happy. Your stomach twinged into a knot and you weren’t sure if it was the stress of hoping to never ruin his happiness or the excitement that you were and could maybe always be that happiness.

He loaded your bag into the car and opened your door for you. 

“Always the gentleman,” you slightly curtseyed to him. 

“Of course, mademoiselle,” he bowed back before going to the driver’s side and getting in the car. 

“I didn’t know you spoke French.”

“Of course, live long enough and you learn a little bit of everything.”

“So what else have you learned? How to pickle veggies and herd sheep?”

“Pickling no, but I learned a bit about herding from a friend who spent some time in Wakanda,” he winked at you.

The drive continued on this way, with you each poking fun at and learning little quirky things about each other. The car began to slow and you looked out the window to see you were arriving at your destination.

“A vineyard?” you watched as rows of vines moved past you, “It’s really beautiful, Steve.” 

“I thought it’d be nice,” you could hear a slight sheepishness in his voice now.

“It is!” you reached out and patted his hand to reassure him, but found that your heart began racing at the contact. 

Steve parked the car and you followed him inside. He checked you both in and the attendant presented you with wine glasses, a map, and a room key. 

“You can fill your glasses here,” the attendant circled an area on the map, “and then feel free to tour the vineyard as you like. It closes at dark, so please make sure not to be out past then.” 

You both nodded and took your glasses. Steve took the map and slid the key into his pocket. You nervously got your glasses filled where the map had directed and went out into the vineyards to wander. The casual conversation began to flow more easily between you as you felt the wine loosening you up. You wandered between the vines and found yourselves at an area with a little metal bench perched on a hill, overlooking the vineyard. Steve gestured for you to sit, and you obliged. The sun was beginning to set and the sky had a beautiful glow. 

You took a deep breath, “Steve, I’m worried that this,” you gestured broadly, “is going to change this,” you pointed back and forth between the two of you.

“And is that a bad thing?” he asked, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

You gazed up into his piercing blue eyes, “I...I just...look...my one condition to this is...say you’ll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset.”

“Babe, that’ll be pretty easy to do after this,” he raised his glass to yours.

You rolled your eyes at him as you clinked your glass against his. You took a long gulp as he took a light sip. 

“You’re beautiful,” he looked you up and down, “With your red lips and rosy cheeks,” he gently traced your lips with his thumb.  

You sighed deeply, “Steve, I’m serious. I’m worried that...if this doesn’t work out...for whatever reason, just say you’ll see me again...even if it’s just in your wildest dreams?”

“You’re dramatic, you know that?” 

“I am not! I just wanted to make sure that all of this was said first.” 

“Look, if it makes you feel better, no one has to know what we do. We can just keep this between us for now?”

“Easier said than done,” you murmured, thinking about how you’d already told Nat which meant she had told Clint and Wanda and probably Banner...which meant that at least 30 other people knew and the odds of at least one of them being someone random like the barista at the coffee shop around the corner were pretty high knowing how big of gossips they all were.

“Hmm?” he hummed in your ear.

“Nothing, just kiss me?” you pleaded to him.

He growled in agreement and moved his hand around the back of your neck, leading your lips to his. 

“What was that key for?” you asked in a way that you thought was sultry. 

“Oh, I figured we could do the tastings tomorrow and so I got us a room. It has two beds in case….” “Take me to the room?” It came out a question, but by the darkening of his eyes you knew he had gathered that it was more of a command. 

He took your hand and helped you up. Interlocking his fingers between yours, he led you back to where you had gotten the key. He squeezed your hand as you wandered the halls and found your room. He opened the door and held it for you to duck under his arm and turn on the lights. 

“Cute,” you remarked at the room with its two beds and a small bucket with a chilled bottle of wine on the table between them. 

“Nah, you’re the cute one,” he replied, pulling you tightly against him. 

You giggled and pushed away, grabbing him by the shirt and walking backwards until you were by a bed. You then gently pushed him down onto it. You grabbed the condoms you’d packed in your bag and threw them on the bed next to him. 

“Presumptuous of you,” he said, picking them up. 

“Was it?” 

He motioned for you to come back to him with just one finger. It sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. 

You walked back to him and slowly undressed him, removing every single piece of clothing from his body before climbing onto his thighs. He tenderly pulled your dress over your head, and you could see the hunger growing in his eyes, darkening them. That look fueled you and you smashed your lips into his. His hands started on your cheeks, then tangled in your hair as they moved their way down your shoulders, stopping briefly to backtrack and stroke your chin before he let them explore down your back. 

“You were just wearing a dress?” he pulled back to eye you up, licking his lips in anticipation. 

Your face began to fill with that familiar tinge of embarrassed heat as you looked down at your naked form straddling his. You smiled innocently, despite knowing exactly what you had been doing when you had made the choice to go without any undergarments while getting dressed that morning. 

“God, you’re so sexy,” his hands traced their way along your spine and back up to your neck. 

He let out a deep growl as he guided your head down to his and kissed you. He took his time at first, each kiss like its own moment that would be forever frozen in time. You started moving your hips slightly on him, riling him up. He let out that low growl again and began kissing you harder, more passionately, as though every fraction of a second that your lips were parted brought a pain that could only be healed by bringing them back together.  

He broke away from you to rip open the condom and slip it on. His hands moved to your hips and he lifted you slightly, sliding his dick into you. You both let out a moan; you stopped grinding on him for a moment, allowing yourself to just feel him filling you completely. You put your hands on his pecs, then slowly started bucking your hips against him. His hands gravitated to your ass and squeezed it in unison with your grinding. 

“My turn,” he whispered into your ear, lifting you up off of him. 

You breathlessly nodded as he propped himself up on his knees, giving you space to lay down. He ran his hands up your legs, spreading your thighs slowly and kissing his way up them. He alternated legs and you felt a quiver run through you as he got closer and closer to your core. You felt the warmth of his breath on you as he paused and looked you in the eyes with a smirk before diving into your heat. He teased your bud with his tongue and you let out a moan as he slipped a finger inside of you. You heard him quietly moan as both his tongue and his finger moved more vigorously, but in a rhythm that had you bucking your hips into him. You began to feel the tingle of an orgasm building in your toes, then moving through your legs, until it finally overwhelmed you to your core, sending you along a crashing wave of pleasure. 

You grabbed his hair and lightly jerked it. He lifted his face and looked at you with a grin. He slowly removed his finger from your soaking pussy and stuck it in his mouth, sucking your wetness off of himself. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to reach the calm after the storm. 

He smirked as he spread your legs wider and then eased himself back into you. After giving you time to readjust around him he pushed himself completely inside of you, then with an almost painful slowness pulled himself back out. You bit your lip in anticipation and moaned as he filled you up again. He continued at this pace for a while, teasing you. When you almost couldn’t bear it any longer he pulled your legs around him and put one arm underneath of you and used the other to prop himself up. You reached up to his face and pulled his lips to yours. 

He kissed you deeply and thrust into you even deeper. The pace started slow, but he gradually sped up and began a rhythm that hit all of the right spots at all of the right moments. You felt every inch of his dick as it went in and out of you. 

He moved his arm from around you and leaned down for a kiss before he really began to thrust into you harder and faster. You felt his dick begin to throb. 

“Cum for me, Steve,” you pleaded

He growled as you locked eyes and he pushed his cock as deep into your pussy as he could over and over again until he let out a growling moan. From the intense throbbing you felt inside of you you knew he had just cum. You sighed as he pulled out of you and visibly shuddered from the pleasure. 

He smiled and bent down to kiss you gently on the forehead before getting up. You lay there, eyes closed, replaying what had just happened, not wanting to forget a moment. 

His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room. 

You tried to slow your breathing and calm down as you heard the sound of a cork popping.

“Here, love.”

Hearing those words in his deep voice sent another tingle through you. You opened your eyes to him offering you a glass of the chilled wine. 

“Cheers to a fantastic getaway,” he offered his glass up to yours. 

You sat up and arranged pillows for the two of you to lean back against. 

“This is a lovely trip,” you smiled as the romantically familiar sound of glasses clinking filled the room and then leaned in and kissed him. 

You sat together and talked and laughed and drank. He called room service for dinner, but you were so absorbed in each other that neither of you touched the food when it arrived. As the hours flew by, you couldn’t stifle the large yawn that escaped your lips. 

“Tired?” he asked. 

“No!” you replied too enthusiastically, “Do you want to watch something?” you knew you were exhausted, but also that you didn’t want to sleep just yet.

“Sure,” he smiled knowingly, “Hm, there’s a new Bond movie on: Nothing lasts forever.”

You laid against him, your bodies entwined. You felt yourself nod off every once in awhile as the movie played, only to be awoken by Steve asking you a question to which you’d “mhm” a response.

“Alright, I’m turning the movie off,” he said after he himself had dozed for longer than he had expected.

“But this is getting good now,” you gestured at the TV, which was showing a commercial for some product you’d never buy.

He laughed, “I’ll see you in my wildest dreams.”

He kissed you on the forehead and clicked off the lights. 

[adhd-disaster-willie]

home is wherever you are tonight

summary: Alex and Willie are suffocating beneath their respective parental figures, so, barely 20 and scrambling to just breathe, they leave LA. And they also slow dance.

notes: this was gonna just be a like 800 word fic of them dancing but I have no self control so I ended up with this monstrosity. (also, maybe listen to apple pie by lizzy mcalpine while reading)

word count: 2,600

---

“I been runnin' 'round

Try'na find a place where I can breathe

But me oh my

I found you

Under an april sky

And you feel like

City life, apple pie baked just right

Home is wherever you are tonight”

---

The early morning tastes like coffee and Willie’s breath mints, gentle laughter lingering on his lips. And Alex has never been a morning person, but with the first rays of sun in his eyes and boxes crammed into every empty space in his car, he thinks that maybe he should wake up early more often.

The road seems to stretch endlessly ahead of them, but Alex can’t tell if the tension in his chest is anxiety or anticipation. Willie squeezes his hand in reassurance as he starts the car and they take a deep breath in unison, realizing it’s maybe the first time they’ve ever been able to truly breathe.

They’re several miles down the highway, shoved in between cardboard boxes and the dry August heat; and Alex’s car is cramped and smells of fast food and summer and Willie Willie Willie. Alex adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, mumbling the words to whatever song is playing on the clunky, staticky radio. The whole world seems softer, with the sun dipping just below the horizon, the last dregs of light sticking to the clouds and painting them pink. Alex sighs contentedly, a grin tugging at the ends of his lips. Willie has their hand stuck out the open window, giggling into the rushing air like it’s telling him the whole world’s secrets. And with their other hand gripped in his own, no reason to let go ever, Alex thinks that the secrets of the universe are laid right out on the dashboard for him to hold.

“What’s so funny?” Alex asks, although it’s less of a question and more a reason to hear Willie’s voice.

“We’re running away together,” Willie replies breathlessly. He laughs again, throwing his head back and stretching his arm farther out the window like he’s trying to touch the clouds.

“Well I wouldn’t quite say we’re running- oh okay.” The last part is in response to Willie putting their index finger over Alex’s lips and looking at him like he’s crazy.

“Yes we totally are. Buzzkill.”

Alex huffs, but it doesn’t hold any weight and is laced with a smile. “I’m driving, idiot. Stop- okay move your hand please.”

“Make me.”

“Willie.” Alex’s fixes a stern gaze on him, just long enough to send them into a fit of giggles before he turns back to face the road. It’s several minutes of comfortable, soft silence before Alex sighs in resignation. “I guess you can say we’re running away.”

“Ha!” Willie pumps his fist, narrowly avoiding smashing the ceiling. And really, considering the age of Alex’s rickety car, smashing would probably be the right word.

Alex raises their intertwined hands briefly. “Here’s to running away.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Willie cheers. They crinkle their nose and kiss Alex’s knuckles, hugging their hands to his chest.

“That’s…” Alex shakes off the crimson tint to his cheeks. “You’re not drinking anything.”

“Not yet,” Willie replies, waggling his eyebrows mischievously.

Willie falls asleep with the sun, something that’s baffled Alex for years. The sky is twinkling with stars and the horizon with city lights, and Willie’s curled up around a pillow, their cheek pressed against the window, breath fogging up the glass. Alex shifts slightly to turn down the music, maneuvering around cautiously to reach the knob without letting go of Willie’s hand. He can’t help from humming under his breath, it’s an older Queen song, one Alex remembers listening to with tangled headphones, huddled in the corner of the gym to avoid the atrocity of dodgeball.

“Love of my life…” Alex trails off, mouthing the lyrics. Beside him, Willie stirs slightly, mumbling something incoherent.

“Hmm?” Alex likes having conversations with a mostly asleep Willie, it’s incredibly entertaining.

“Love you more.” Eyes still closed, Willie pats Alex’s cheek and nods decidedly. “Mostest.”

“Is that so?”

“Love of my life!” Willie sings along loud and off-key, voice slurred with sleep. “M gonna love you forever.” They fall back, last bits of consciousness gone, and Alex blinks back surprised tears.

“And ever,” he finishes softly, squeezing Willie’s hand. Forever sounds nice.

The rest of the drive floats by like a spring breeze snaking through a field of long grass. Willie wakes up at some point, eats an ungodly amount of popcorn and screams the lyrics of American Idiot out the window at the bustling city, like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to hear the song. Alex can’t help but laugh loudly when a conservative looking old lady glares at them, utterly scandalized.

“I think you just ruined her night,” Alex quips with mock seriousness.

“As I should!” Willie flops back into the seat, adjusting their tangled seatbelt and looking at Alex with a lopsided grin.

Alex laughs for what’s maybe the millionth time today, and it hits him that this is the most he’s ever involuntarily smiled in a day. It’s half past 8 and he’s settled at the base of a tree with Willie perched on a branch just above his head, rambling on about color theory or something equally as confusing. The drive would’ve taken 4 hours without Willie pulling on Alex’s elbow and squealing for him to stop at everything mildly interesting, but Alex isn’t entirely complaining, even if his back is sore.

It’s odd, to be leaving LA, but Alex thinks that everyone knew he couldn’t stay there his whole life, not with the church on his drive to work and the streets full of too many people that know him too well. And maybe he didn’t like change, but it can’t be that much of a change if Willie is still there with him. Willie grounds him. So do Luke and Reggie and Julie and Flynn, but in a different way. His parents tied him to the floor, his friends root him, let him grow and have a place to come home to at the same time. And Willie? Willie is the ground. He is the soil and the curling grass to Alex’s timid tree. Willie is home, wherever they may be.

“2 miles,” Alex states, pulling gently on Willie’s ankle, letting them know that he wants to look at them. Willie hops down and Alex winces even when they land safe and sound on their feet.

“Why do you do that?” Alex questions huffily, crossing his arms over his chest.

Willie gives a half shrug. “ ‘S fun.”

“For you, maybe.”

“Hmm.” Willie drapes their arms around Alex’s neck, pulling him into into a gentle kiss. Kissing Willie feels like rain after months of drought, sun breaking through a canopy of trees, and Alex is sure that it always will, until they’re old and grey. Alex smiles against his lips, pulls apart and rests his forehead against Willie’s, biting his lip in a soft smile. “C’mon.” He clasps Willie’s hand and sticks it in the pocket of his hoodie, bumping their shoulders together. “Lets go home.”

“Home.” Willie breaks out in a grin that glows like the full moon on a clear night. “Yea.”

---

The apartment complex is wedged in between a suspicious looking butchery and a quaint little antique shop with butterflies painted on the dusty windows that Alex reminds himself to take Julie to at some point, when his friends all inevitably visit in the whirlwind that they are. The pale yellow wall paint is peeling and the stairs are much more wobbly than Alex is comfortable with, but he lets out a breathless, bubbly laugh at the sight of it. His parents aren’t there, nor is Caleb, or any of the things back in LA that were suffocating them both to the point that they booked it, half-broke and with only 2 months of warning.

Alex swings their hands, looking at a very bouncy Willie with his eyes blown wide from excitement. “Hey, we’re home.”

“We’re home!” Willie grabs Alex’s face roughly, fumbling to kiss him with their hands shaking and lips curled up in a giddy beam. They settle for holding him in a crushing hug, swaying them back and forth gleefully.

“You’re excited,” Alex chuckles, brushing at his crumpled hoodie when Willie breaks away.

Willie sticks his tongue out childishly. “So are you, admit it.”

Softening, Alex cups Willie’s cheek and exhales softly. “Of course I am.” He crinkles his nose affectionately as Willie leans up to peck his cheek. “Now-” Alex stacks as many boxes as he can fit in his arms. “Lets do this.”

---

It’s 2am and Alex is completely and utterly exhausted. Half the boxes are open, they unpacked most of it just looking for the air mattress. His record player is resting on the counter, there’s a pile of books in one corner and several trashbags of clothes in another. Willie is sitting crosslegged on the floor trying to work the portable air pump and scowling at the still deflated mattress like it stole his wallet.

“Y’know, you’d think they would provide some sort of instruction book,” Willie says poutingly. They fall back onto the wooden floor with an annoyed sigh.

Alex looks up from where his head is buried in his arms, sitting on the single bar stool they’d managed to fit in the car. “There was an instruction book, speed bump. You threw it out because you claimed that ‘everyone knows how to work an air pump!’”

“But I’m not everyone!” Willie whines. “You should’ve warned me.”

“I… okay.” Alex bows his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Lets blow up the mattress and call it a night, okay?” He lowers himself to the floor, hovering over Willie and tucking a strand of hair behind their ear. “Give me the pump, I’ll figure it out.”

“Hmm.” Willie hauls themself up, yawning loudly. They settle themselves in Alex’s lap, head tucked into his shoulder while Alex wraps his arms around them and fiddles with the mattress.

“M gonna fall sleep here,” Willie mumbles into Alex’s shoulder.

“Yea?”

“Mhm, g’night.” Willie burrows further into Alex, tucking his hands into his hoodie pockets.

Alex exhales, a fond smile tracing his face. He lifts one hand to card his fingers through Willie’s long hair, using the other to blow up the mattress. Willie groans in frustration at the loud noise and Alex has to fight a laugh.

“Alright get up, we have to- Willie.” Willie’s latched himself onto Alex like some sort of leech, pretending to be asleep despite the soft giggling escaping his lips.

“William,” Alex says, snickering. Willie doesn’t budge. “Pretty boy,” Alex tries. That always works.

Willie melts, lifting their head and flushing bright red. “Stop taking advantage of me,” He grumbles as he stands, pulling Alex up with him.

“Stop letting me,” Alex retorts with a teasing chuckle.

But instead of flopping unceremoniously onto the mattress like Alex expects, Willie pads tentatively to the wide window facing the flickering city and lets out a breath of awe. He hugs himself firmly, brushing his thumb over his bicep. Alex approaches them and snakes his arms around their torso, perching his chin on their shoulder and humming in question.

“I’m okay,” Willie answers the unspoken question, nudging Alex’s head lightly. “It’s just overwhelming but like…” he pauses, eyebrow furrowed in thought. “In a good way. It’s a lot, but it’s all good.”

Alex nods in understanding. “Yea, I agree.” He intertwines their fingers, rocking back and forth. “Lots of good.” He presses a kiss to the top of Willie’s head, lingering for a moment to relish in his presence.

“It’s beautiful,” Willie remarks, eyes raking over the bright city lights. It looks so distant and yet so familiar at the same time.

“You’ve seen the city a million times.”

“Ok, but this is a different city,” Willie responds. It’s true. It’s like the same puzzle with all the pieces arranged differently, except for one in the middle that the whole rest of the world revolves around.

Willie wriggles in Alex’s grip and spins around, tossing their arms over his shoulders and fidgeting with the hood of his sweatshirt. “Dance with me,” he says, voice soft and silvery, a whisper of cloud waltzing across the moon. Alex raises a doubtful eyebrow.

“You wanna dance… Willie, we’re exhausted.”

“No, no, no,” Willie shakes his head slowly, eyes squeezed shut for a moment. “Just-” They settle one hand one Alex’s shoulder and the other on his hip. Humming a gentle, lilting tune, they begin swaying side to side, drumming his fingers to a beat only in his head. “Dance with me.” He presses an idle kiss to Alex’s lips, chapped from the wind and laced with fresh apples . “Please.”

Alex hums in consideration, moving Willie’s hands to hold them in his own. “One second.” He ducks out of Willie’s arms, earning a squeak of protest.

Alex has had his record player for years now, Ray gave it to him as a Christmas present when he was 15 and he definitely cried. He’d gone through 3 boxes packing his records and Willie had looked… mildly concerned. But ha, who’s laughing now? The vinyl starts, popping occasionally in the way that makes Alex giggle with joy. Alex steps back proudly, floating back over to Willie and mimicking their previous position, one hand on their hip and the other on their shoulder. Willie smiles fondly at the song choice, Apple Pie by Lizzy Mcalpine, though he knows that nothing else would’ve fit.

“Remember the first time we listened to this song together?” Alex asks as Willie stumbles over his feet.

Willie nods. “Course I do, hotdog. You got sooo blushy.”

Alex shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, you kissed me so it worked out.”

“It did,” Willie whispers.

Alex spins them messily, laughing aloud when they slam into his chest without warning. "Very graceful," he remarks sarcastically.

Willie scrunches his face affectionately, pecking the tip of Alex's nose, singing gently as he draws back. "Home is wherever you are tonight."

It’s a tender moment, until Willie steps on Alex’s foot and snickers an apology. “Oops-”

“Ow, Willie. You don’t know how to slow dance do you?” Alex teases.

“Ok-”

Alex sighs warmly, god sometimes all the feelings were just so big and overwhelming. “Just, c'mere-” He draws Willie closer to him, embracing them like he’s the only thing in the world. And maybe, for the moment, he is. Willie tucks his head into Alex’s shoulder, breathing in his scent, lavender and dust; and Alex follows suit. His eyes flutter shut and he hums contentedly, heart giving a leap at the sheer domesticity of dancing in the empty living room in their pajamas, Willie tracing slow, sleepy circles on his back.

They’re hardly dancing anymore, really, wrapped up in each other like the sea and the shore at high tide, swaying to their synced heartbeats. The unfamiliar walls and creaky floorboards, cold beneath their socked feet, suddenly begin to look like home beneath all the strangeness and Alex can’t help but grin.

Alex’s home is in the crook of Willie’s neck and the light curve of his spine; the scent of rainstorms and cotton holding him close like he’s prone to break. And perhaps one day he will break, fall apart in Willie’s arms. But with the scratchy record humming in the background, and Willie’s body melting into his own, he thinks that their arms would be the best place to fall apart in.

---

art i made :)))

[kurinoot]

[day 9] nine home remedies | kuroo tetsuroo

-> much to your wishes, your boyfriend who happens to be the captain of the boys volleyball team that you’re managing still went to practice despite being sick, so you give him a taste of your own medicine, literally

pairing: kuroo x reader

themes: fluff (with a bit of spice), manager!reader, some humor innit lol

warnings: mature innuendos here and there (and that’s it uwu), mild language (just one curse word lol)

word count: 3,379 words

note: sorry for the late LATE post. School has begun again and this fic is pretty long compared to the past ones :( but here’s the update now hehe I hope you guys like it! Also, thank you so much to @xmyshya, @ssrated1volleyballplayer, @meiansmistress​, and @vanille--kiss for proofreading this one for me! Father Meian would be so proud uwu. And also, to my friend who has been part of this since Day 1, @msmeowski​, I really owe you one!

“How many times do I have to tell you that you should’ve skipped practice today?” You sigh as you accompany your boyfriend with his arm slung over your shoulder to his house, albeit weak and flushed. Kuroo only grunts in response. 

“What, you’re my mom now?” He quips. You glare in his direction, as you have already given him an earful on how his health should be a priority and how he shouldn't choose practice over his well-being. As soon as you enter his house, his grandmother sees the two of you scurrying inside, greeting you with a gentle smile.

“Ah welcome Y/N-chan! Oh! What happened to you, Tekkun?” his grandmother remarks. 

“Baa-chan! It’s Tetsurou!” Kuroo coughs. You could only bow your head at her with respect as you speak on his weakened behalf. 

“Baa-chan! I told this rooster head right here to not go to practice for today because he’s sick, but he still did!”

“Oh, did he really now?” She replies as she instantly glares at her grandson, who is eyeing the sofa, seeking the comfort of its warm, soft surface. His grandmother then pinches hard on her grandson’s cheek. 

“You shouldn't make things harder for Y/N-chan!”

“Baa-chan! Your grandson is sick and you’re still scolding me?” He retorts, earning another pinch and earful from his grandmother before motioning you inside as she prepares the sofa for Kuroo to rest as you follow suit.

“Y/N-chan, will you help brew some tea and make Hachimitsu Daikon for Tetsu-chan?” his grandmother asks as she helps the captain on the couch. You nod before glaring at the sorry state of your boyfriend.

“You better not move from there, mister. I’m gonna brew you some tea.” You order as the captain could only painfully cough in reply, jokingly.

“Yes, ma!”

You quickly set up the kettle, placing it on the stove before preparing the tea. As you wait for the water to boil, you prep the Hachimitsu Daikon mixture, mixing the daikon and honey together before letting it set on the counter. You then hear his grandmother come to the kitchen, and you perk up at her smiling presence, taking two shopping bags with her.

“I’ll be going out to the market, Y/N-chan. Take care of Tekkun for me.” You wave goodbye as she leaves, amused at their cute relationship.

You leave the jar on the table to let the mixture come together as you lift the kettle and pour its contents into the mug with the tea leaves before serving it to your ailing boyfriend. 

“Sit up! Here’s some tea. It’ll help with your cold. Also, I made some Hachimitsu Daikon for you on the table, okay? Baa-chan taught me this one, and said that it was good for your sore throat.”

His hand feebly reaches for the mug in yours, brushing his fingers against yours. He holds your hand for a moment as he looks intently at you. “Manager-chan, I know you’re concerned about me right now,” Kuroo takes the mug from your hands, shifting his focus to the mug on his palms. “But I can take care of myself from here. The younger ones need their pretty manager.”

You quirk an eyebrow, unamused at his statement—huffing as you put your hands on your hips. “As the manager, and as your girlfriend, I’m obligated to take care of the entire team, which also includes my boyfriend. Besides, I’m pretty sure the others are worried about you as well.”

“You never go down without a fight, huh? How annoying,” he obnoxiously says, but thankful nonetheless. He blows into the mug before daintily sipping the tea, sighing in relief as he looks at you. “I didn't know I needed that. Thanks so much, baby girl,” he says with a smile.

Your heart warms at the gesture as you quickly grab your bag, pulling out your first aid pouch and grabbing a sheet of KoolFever, much to your boyfriend’s surprise. You quickly remove the film covering as you gently place it on his sweltering forehead, prompting Kuroo to sigh in contentment as the contrasting cool sheet lays over his spiking hot forehead.

“Ah~ sometimes I wish I could be sick forever...” he places the mug on the coffee table before suddenly pulling you to his lap. “You’d be my cute nurse, baby girl~” He burrows his flustered face to your chest, to which you only spit in disgust. You ruffle his hair as you chuckle in sarcasm. 

“Oh by the way, I’m telling Coach Nekomata to give you 15 more diving drills to make up for today.”

“B-baby, n-no need to be harsh on me,” Kuroo attempts to give you the cutest cat eyes, appealing to your cat-loving side, and although you feel the need to hug your man, you resist his advancements.

“Stop staring at me with those big eyes!” You shove his face away from you as you continue. “Also you’re sweaty, so I’ll get the bath running.”

You manage to untangle yourself from his arms before you enter the bathroom, drawing him a warm bath. Afterwards, you step out of the bathroom with the water running, with tufts of steam leaking out the door ajar.

“Oi, jiisan, bath’s ready!” You pull out a fresh white towel from one of the cabinets as Kuroo slowly stands up at your cue. You go to aid him as he walks on the way to the bathroom, pulling a half-scowl on his face.

“Oi, you do know that I’m not old, right?”

“Hm-hmm. Says the person who says ‘Ah, youth.’”

Kuroo, amused at your clapbacks, chooses to stay silent instead as you help him towards the bathroom. You check the water to see if it’s warm enough as Kuroo lethargically takes off his shirt, fumbling around. You chuckle at his helpless sight, amused at his feeble form, although your eyes keep lingering back to his sweaty torso. Thankfully, his head is stuck in his uniform, so he doesn't have a reason to tease you, and although you need to help him with his uniform, you try not to be tempted to touch his lean, muscular abdominals and his perking pectorals.

“Uhm, ah, I’ll leave you to it!” You shyly mutter as you attempt to scurry out of the bathroom, to no avail as your boyfriend pulls you into a hug, burying his head in your shoulder in the process. You feel his warm breath wantonly brush against the nape of your neck as his ripped torso touches against you, bringing blood on your cheeks in embarrassment. Your heart palpitates as you swallow the lump in your throat in anticipation.

“You perv, you intentionally looked at me while I was naked...” He provokingly whispers in your ear as he gently caresses your hair, leaving you with trails of shivers down your spine. 

“You do know that you need to be punished, right, baby girl?”

You grit your teeth at his underlying pestering as your thoughts are left at the tip of your tongue. Damn, he really knows how to push the right buttons, huh?!

Kuroo smirks at your struggle, more so with the flustered expression on your face, but feels all of his confidence go down the drain almost instantly. 

“I can’t just let an old man pathetically get stuck with his shirt on his head. Now, what would others—especially Lev and Yaku—say if they found out that their cool captain can’t even remove his shirt?”

T-This woman… Kuroo thinks as he feels his mind short circuit at the turn of events. He tries to push more buttons to try and rile you up, which only proves to be futile. 

You then break the ice before going out of the bathroom. “Now I’m gonna go out for a bit and I expect you to be undressed AND in the tub by the time I come back, okay Kuroo-jiisan?”

“Will you stop calling me jiisan already?!”

By the time you return, you are greeted by clouds of steam and you are graced with the view of your boyfriend naked and resting in the filled warm tub.

You then do a quick series of arm stretching, preparing yourself before grabbing the mint-scented shampoo placed in a small cupboard nearby. You squeeze a decent amount of it on your hand, lathering it before you massage the dollop of bubbles onto his scalp. As you massage the shampoo into his hair, you can’t help but feel relaxed in the atmosphere—you shampooing his hair, the calm sloshing sound of the rippling water, the gentle sounds echoing on the bathroom walls, the looming fresh scent of mint, and the almost inaudible sound of his purr.

Oh my gosh, he’s purring like a cat, you think in fascination as you continue threading your fingers onto his hair whilst humming contentedly. Meanwhile, the man in the tub is in complete relaxation mode, feeling satisfied at the sensation of the warm water and your presence. 

He releases a low purr as he simmers himself into the warm tub of sudsy water, closing his eyes at the soothing kneading of your hands in his hair. You then place a quick gentle peck on his shoulder before grabbing the shower head, rinsing his hair with care to avoid splashing water on your dry clothes.

“Ah, that feels really good...” you hear Kuroo unknowingly whisper in relief, which makes you feel warm and fuzzy with contentment. You then grab the soap sitting on the wall side of the tub, lathering it as you rub your way down his body. 

Another wave of soft purrs emanates from his lips as you gently knead the sore muscles of his back, instantly feeling the knots leaving his body. You feel him recline into your touch as he turns to putty in your hands, releasing a deep contented sigh. It doesn't last long as you rinse the trails of suds with water, leaving a final peck on his now clean shoulder.

“I’ll leave you for a minute.”

You make your way to the living room and grab the Salonpas and KoolFever from your bag, and proceed to the kitchen to grab a tray and pour another cup of the herbal tea. Once the Hachimitsu Daikon settles in, you look around for a spoon, carrying it alongside the container of the syrup. You head back to his room only to see Kuroo sitting on the bed, with his hair still wet and a towel hanging on his neck. 

You sigh as you place the tray on his bedside table before giving him a spoonful of the syrup. You grab his towel from his neck gently, shuffling to his back as you drape the towel over his head. Your fingers tenderly graze through his wet locks, which is surprisingly soft compared to his usual bedridden rooster hair. Tempted, you leave soft pecks on his sweltering forehead while continuing to dry his hair. His hazel eyes gaze at the tray before seeing the green onion.

"Y/N-chan, what’s that?" he says as he points to the green onion.

“What? You don’t know the famous home remedy?”

It is actually the opposite. He knows it all too well. It’s just that, Kuroo isn’t sure if you are going to:

A) wrap it around his neck

or worse

B) stick it up in his ass

Knowing you, as the manager and his girlfriend, it would most likely be the latter. He knows he needs to butter you up to avoid the worst choice out of the two.

"You should thank Baa-chan. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't know how to make it specially for you." You hold his warm cheeks in your hands, feeling the sweat forming from his fever. Under your touch, he nuzzles against the cool touch of your touch on his face. Hurriedly, he clasps your hands as he brushes it against his lips, tenderly kissing your wrists.

“Y/N-chan,” he directs his eyes towards you, whilst pecking your wrists. “You’re so warm...”

Your cheeks dye in rose from his sudden affection, pulling away from him before anything could happen. “L-Let me apply some salonpas to you, since you’re done with the s-syrup...” 

Kuroo’s attention keeps going back and forth to you and the green onion on the tray, feeling the slight tension of his heartbeat as time passes by. You then grab the pack of salonpas as you motion for his shirt, but he quickly lays down on the bed, lifting the hem of his shirt for a quick tease as he displays his sweating abdominals. He devilishly fixes his gaze to you with the cutest cat eyes before rolling on his stomach. “Help me, Ms. Manager~”

You feel the need to slap this idiot who unbelievably is the captain of your volleyball team, but quietly sigh ‘another time’. You sigh as your hand glides up to his well-defined back, caressing every touch against his broad back. Your thumb is pressed against his feverish skin before hearing Kuroo's grunts, possibly aching in some parts. Once you've identified the places around his aching rear, you start unpacking the Salonpas.

“Oho? You even have Salonpas with you? Ms. Manager, you're always prepared,” he nonchalantly chuckles, followed by coughing fits as you work on putting on the medicinal patches.

“I'm the manager for a reason. And besides, we work best together, like blood, so if one of you gets sick,” you finish placing the last patch of Salonpas as you start massaging the patches before directing your attention towards him.

"What's the Nekoma team without one another?"

As if taken by surprise by your response, Kuroo gives off a low chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "Y/N-chan, after this little thing," Kuroo tucks his arms under his pillows as he buries his face, exposing only half as he gazes directly into your eyes. A playful smirk on his lips as he teasingly exposes his neck, his muscles on his back displayed. 

"Let’s go on a date."

Undeniably, you feel the heat rising in your cheeks at his sudden remark. After a brief pause, you clear your throat, evading his statement. “Y-You…! You have the stamina to be this cheesy when you need to rest?” You tell him as you finish massaging his back. He cheekily grins as he suddenly grabs your hand and pulls you into him. He attempts to give you a playful peck on your lips, to no avail as you shove his face back to his pillow. 

“N-no need to be this aggressive, b-babe...” Pouting, he digs his face into his pillows as you notice him eyeing the green onion on your tray. Your eyes light up as your lips grin with a devilish plan in mind.

He eyes you as you retract, with your hand hovering over the tray. His pupils dilate with his heart palpitating in each second. 

Is it A or B?! Will you choke him or shove it in his ass?! 

His particular train of thought is suddenly cut short as you hold the green onion in your hand. His instincts blare up, feeling it as if they were saying ‘run’ over and over, screaming at himself.

“Alright, Tetsurou,” it is the moment of truth. His neck or virginity are at stake as he internally pleads to the gods for a miracle.

“Stick out your neck.” 

A sigh of relief escapes from his lips, just as he feels his desires fulfilled. You then look at him questioningly as you give him a double-edged smile. Much to his lack of knowledge, he gives you a grin, feeling comforted at the decision to choke him rather than deflowering his ass while trying to treat him of his sickness. He hums, closing his eyes, expecting the plant to be wrapped around his neck, only for him to feel the familiar warmth of your lips instead which makes him look down at you. He sees the familiar glint in your eyes, and the way your lips are smirking make his stomach lurch.

Oh no—

“Now you better lay down on your stomach, mister.”

The following morning, the entire Nekoma team goes to check on their captain and on you, worried since you did not reply to their messages last night. Yaku initiates by proceeding to knock on the door, only to be welcomed by the sight of an elderly woman, smiling at them as she welcomes them. “Oh good morning, boys! Tekkun and Y/N-chan are still sleeping upstairs.” She sees the knowing stares between the team as she ushers them inside.

“So this is Kuroo-san’s home...” Lev wanders in fascination as he eyes his surroundings, basking in the environment and its homey atmosphere for the first time. Inuoka seems to feel the same as he smiles, with his eyes sparkling and wandering around the humble abode. Kuroo’s grandmother returns to the kitchen while the rest keep on chattering behind.

Disregarding the banter behind him, Yaku goes on and casually opens the door to the sight of you snuggled with each other, steadily breathing as your hands unconsciously massage Kuroo’s torso, leaving trails of your warm touch on it. The other hand on his shoulder unknowingly massages them reassuringly as the both of you succumb in each other’s presence and comfort.

“Aww look how cute you are, you guys...” Yaku sighs with underlying tease (and perhaps a hint of jealousy) as he walks and checks on you and your boyfriend’s sleeping figure, only to see later, in the captain’s partial state of undress on his lower posterior, a thick stalk of green onion protruding from between his clenching buttcheeks. 

He tries to contain his laughter, failing as a full-out cackle escapes his mouth, only for the rest of the team to enter the room and see their captain’s stalked bare posterior, following suit in Yaku’s failed attempt to hold onto his laughter. Kenma, who usually wears a blank expression, is now snickering at the sight before him, much to the surprise of the rest as the setter even takes a snap of it.

A loud groan from the sleeping captain turns the entire room silent as an awake Kuroo, albeit still fuzzy and tranced, rubs one of his eyes. He unconsciously lets out a yawn before his consciousness becomes more clear, finally registering that his teammates are right in his room.

“Oh you guys! Whaddya doin’ here?” he slurs.

“Ah, the guys wanted to know how you were doing and your grandmother happily told us to come in,” Kai replies with his usual smile as he waves at the freshly awoken captain.

“So L/N-san is also here...” Lev utters as his feline eyes land on your sleeping figure, happily snoring your worries away. The entire team pauses for a while just to look and appreciate you in your seemingly deep slumber.

“Waaah, L/N-san looks so cute!”

“Cute...”

Tetsuroo enjoys the attention showered upon you, prompting him to adjust his position on the bed only for him to realize fully the state of his partial nudity on his now aching posterior. He releases a grunt which only turns all the attention in the entire room back to him. Yaku snorts at the view as Yamamoto follows suit, only louder this time. 

“O-Oi, whaddya lookin at?” Kuroo scowls at everyone.

Lev snickers at the captain’s condition, albeit with pure curiosity, “Kuroo-san, why is there a green onion stuck in your butthole?”

Kuroo looks at him with disdain while trying to hide the embarrassment from within, “E-Eh! You didn’t know? This is an a-ancient remedy for fevers!”

“That sounds like a nice remedy. I should try it sometime!” Lev naively replies as Kenma looks at him in distaste before he looks at your sleeping frame with a calm expression.

“Don’t even try to do it, Lev.”

The rest of the members, even including Fukunaga, are already laughing at the captain’s plight, only increasing in volume as it effectively wakes you up from your slumber.

“Yeah right. You really let me stick an onion up in your ass? Kinky,” you raspily groan as you rub both eyes to consciousness, only leaving the team on their stomachs even more.

Happy Valentine’s Day to him, indeed. 

click here to see where the green onion idea comes from lol

back to the valentines masterlist

[forthehpfanboys]

I’m Sorry

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: You hate Ron, Ron hates you. Pretty simple. It only becomes complicated when the bloke says something about your cologne in Potions class.

Warnings: Swearing, insults, fighting.

Notes: Requested! Probably my favorite so far? I don't own the gif, I just couldn't find it in the suggestions-

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

The rule of thumb that everyone in Gryffindor gets along is far from true when it comes to you and Ronald Bilius Weasley. You guys clashed harder than the titanic and that iceberg. Honestly, no one remembered how it started, but they could remember the insults thrown back and forth. You didn’t exactly hide your hatred for the red-head and he was the same.

The two of you would fight deep into the night, effectively keeping up the whole tower with your insults and burns ringing in the empty common room. When fellow Gryffindors saw you two starting to get in a heated argument, most fled to avoid the damage. Sometimes it came to blows, leading to Fred and George or Hermione and Harry splitting you two apart, but it was mostly the older twins. 

You two don’t even remember why you hate each other, at this point, you just do. At least, that’s what you told yourself every time you caught yourself staring at him from across the library or when you’d shove into him in the hallway. His smile was softer than freshly fallen snow and his eyes could rival the ocean with their beauty. You had absolutely no clue he was battling the same feelings. 

Ron wished you would smile sweetly at him instead of sneering insults that made him want to hex you into next Tuesday. He wanted to hold your hand instead of get hit by it, but he figured this was best. He did start this. He was the one that turned cold toward you on the train one random year to avoid his feelings for you.

Today was one of the tenser days where you and Ron were inches from ending each other's blood lines. Everyone in the tower could already feel it and you weren’t even in the same room yet. You’d woken up a little bit later than usual all because of your Scream Off™ with the short Weasley the night before. You walked down the stairs of the boys dormitory, your hand running through your messy hair. Insults from the night before rang in your head like a bell.

“What did I do to deserve being trapped with the human embodiment of ginger ale?”

“Since when do you know things? I thought your brain was filled with cobwebs and moth balls?”

“We both know your face looks prettier after my fist has kissed it.”

It made your stomach twist with guilt, but the guilt melted into pure hatred when a cocky voice rang through the common room. You wanted to knock his lights out before your foot even hit the last step of the staircase.

“Finally awake, eh, (L/n)? Only took forever, lazy arse.” Ron was snickering on the main couch right in front of the fireplace. The atmosphere in the common room immediately shifted. You rolled your eyes as you walked up to the couch, standing right behind him.

“Shut it, Weasley.” You grabbed his hair, forcing his head back to look at your glare. “I hope you fall off a broom during Quidditch today.” Your voice was laced with a false sweetness. Your glare shifted to a dark smirk before jerking his head forward. After letting go of his hair, you walked past him, flipping him off. “Good morning Granger. Have a good game, Potter!” You smiled and waved goodbye after they said good morning and a quick thanks. 

You got along perfectly with 2/3 of the Golden Trio. They were always polite to you, even if you would throw hands at their best friend. They didn’t play favorites though, which was nice. If one of you started the fight, they’d make it known when they broke it up.

“Oi! Don’t be a basta-!” Ron stood up quickly, going to run after you as you left, but was stopped by Harry’s hand pulling him back down onto the couch. “Ronald! Not today, please!” Hermione spoke up, rubbing her temples. “We already have to deal with Slughorn. I’d rather not also have to deal with your pathetic excuse for flirting.” She sighed out. Poor girl already had a headache and it wasn’t even 10 oclock.

Ron crossed his arms over his chest, his face heating up some. He cringed at the mere thought of finding you romantically attractive… Ok, he would admit you did have a nice ass, but not out loud. 

“I’m not flirting. I hate his guts, Mione.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“I’m serious! How could anyone find that twat even remotely attractive or adorable? He’s the bloody worst!”

Harry and Hermione shared a look before turning back to Ron. Harry and Hermione both knew better than that, this was a classic Enimies-To-Lovers scenario, at least that’s what they hoped, if not.. This was going to be a long, long, long year.

“No one said anything about him being adorable OR attractive, Ron.” 

“Sod off, Harry, I know it was implied. You both know what I mean anyway.” Ron stood up, heading for the portrait hole.

“Where are you going?” Hermione groaned out. Her headache just got worse. “To get payback for the hairs that git ripped out.” 

-

Ron walked down the hallways of the castle. He was so determined to find you he skipped breakfast, leading the remaining additions of the Golden Trio to come hunt him down. With some help from the older Weasley Twins, they managed to catch up with him pretty easily. Getting him to go to class, however, was a lot harder. Ron looked between his friends, then his brothers standing behind them for reinforcement. The keeper wasn’t moving an inch, not without seeing you first.

“No.”

“Ronald-”

“No, don’t Ronald me!”

“Ron! Come on! We have to go to potions in less than 5 minutes!”

“No! I’m just going to end up sitting next to that git and his stupid attitude the entire class! It’s going to be worse torture than seeing Snape everyday.” Ron crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, my fist has a date with his lips and I’m not going anywhere until that date happens!”

“He was at breakfast, you missed him. You can fight him after potions. Can we go to class now?” Harry tried to reason with the hot-headed idiot, but alas, nothing is ever that easy. He groaned when Ron shook his head no, causing the twins to step into the picture. If anyone could get him to go somewhere, it was them.

“Wow, Hermione, you're right.” Fred started, turning to his twin.

“He’s got it bad and he doesn’t even know it yet.” George finished, while Fred shook his head in dismay and muttered a quick ‘shame’.

“I do not, nor will I ever, like him. Ok? Get that into your thick skulls!” 

“No one believes you, Ickle Ronniekins! In fact, most of Gryffindor Tower has a bet that you two will end up shagging in some broom closet in less than a week!” George stated while he rested his arm on his brother's shoulder.

“What?!” Ron’s face was turning pink again. “No! Ew!” Ron faked a few gags. “No! That would never happen!” 

“Hey, if you don’t want him, can I have him? I’d love to see how he’d look on his kne-” 

“OK! I’LL GO TO CLASS IF YOU SHUT UP-” Ron didn’t hesitate to cover his ears or turn briskly on his heels. The red-head hurried in the direction he came from, his two classmates following after him who both called out a thank you to the mischief masters. “Godric, why’d you ask them for help? Now I have that gross image in my head.” 

“We both knew it’d be the only way to get you to Potions. Now hurry up! I’d rather not be late!” Hermione grabbed her friends wrists and dragged them down the intermixing hallways until they stood right outside the classroom, only then did she let go. Harry handed Ron his potions textbook while Hermione patted down her hair and walked in, trying to act like she didn’t just sprint across the school. 

The two boys looked at each other, one rolling his eyes while the other snickered before walking in after her. The snickering red-head paused when he walked in, getting hit with a strong smell of mixed berries and fruit, almost like shampoo. He actually didn’t hate it, in fact, it made his heart beat a little faster. It was familiar. The idea had Ron lagging behind his friends. 

Once he joined the crowd in the back of the classroom and stood beside his friend at the edge of the crowd, did he notice the scent almost shift. It was your cologne. It made him gag with how powerful it was. Godric, did you pour an entire bottle of cologne on you? It was literally making him feel sick. He was going to lose every marble he had if someone didn’t open a window for him. 

When Slughorn began talking about today's lesson, it went in one of Ron’s ears only to travel out the other side. Your cologne was close to killing him and everyone was acting like it didn’t exist.

“Do you see (L/n)?” Ron whispered to Harry. 

“He’s across the classroom, Ron, why?” Harry whispered back. The two continued to whisper over Slughorn. They’d end up asking Hermione for help anyway. “Worried about him?” Harry grinned until his friend jabbed him in the side with his elbow.

“No, just wondering so I can rag him on his shit cologne.” Ron made eye contact with you across the classroom. He stuck his tongue out when you discretely gave him the bird. “I’m so gonna beat his ass.”

“What? Ron, what cologne?”

“You can’t smell it?” 

Harry was about to answer when he got interrupted by Slughorn abruptly asking everyone to take their seats and start the project. Neither of them noticed that pack of girls staring longingly at the bubbling cauldrons in front of them while they took their seats next to each other. 

See, the thing that sucked the most about this is Slughorn was determined to make you and Ron basically best friends, so he stuck you at the Golden Trio’s table for the whole year, which led to more trouble than good. Luckily, he paired you up with Harry and Ron with Hermione so you didn’t ruin each other's faces or potions. However, today, the bickering began before you sat down. 

“How’s your head feeling, Weasley?” You smirked, walking over with your brown side bag.

“How’s your shin feeling, (L/n)?” Before you could question what he meant, he kicked your leg before sitting down. You let out a grunt and sat down in your own seat before rubbing your now sore and most likely bruised leg. 

“I can’t wait for this class to end so I can rip out more of your stupid ginger hair, Ginger Ale.” You pulled out your textbook and flipping to the page. 

“Don’t bloody call me that, besides, why not just use that horrid cologne as pepper spray. With how much you wore today, it’s already doing the job for you.” Ron scowled at you from across the table, but his demeanor shifted ever so slightly when you dropped your quill and looked at him with wide eyes. He blinked a few times before looking around the room then behind him. “What?”

“Red, I.. You smell my cologne?” Your voice was filled to the brim with turmoil.

“So what if I do?” Ron’s face scrunched up with confusion. 

“Have you heard of a potion called Amortentia?” You spoke up, covering your rapidly heating up face. 

“A-amor- What?”

“Look, Red. Long story short, it’s a love potion. It’s strong enough to change love to obsession. It emits a smell that’s different for everyone and mimics the smell of your crush.” You looked at him between your fingers, seeing his confusion still so clear on his face.

“Ok.” Ron snorted. “What does that have to do with your shitty cheap cologne?” 

“Weasley, mate, I know the cogs in your brain are super rusty, but just try to use ‘em ok?” You slammed your hands against the table as you spoke. “I’m not wearing my cologne today. I ran out last night. Slughorn had an open cauldron filled with Amortentia in class today.” 

“S.. So what your saying is-” Ron’s brain was trying to process everything you’d said. He was still refusing to believe he loved, liked or tolerated you.

“You fancy me, you idiot.” You spoke up, louder than you intended.

Ron stared at you with wide eyes. His pale cheeks turned red, out of anger or embarrassment he wasn’t sure. He looked between Hermione and Harry before looking back at you.

“What? No I don’t. That’s ridiculous, borderline mental!”

“Then why did you smell my cologne?” You questioned, leaning over the table some. Ron went back to glaring at you, his arms crossing over the table.

“Probably because you're lying about having none.”

“Ok, say I was lying, Harry would smell it, yeah?”

“Yeah and I don’t smell anything besides the potions brewing.” Harry shrugged while Ron’s jaw dropped.

“Harry! Don’t encourage him!” Ron slammed his book shut, drawing more attention to the bickering table.

“I’m not encouraging anyone. Just being honest.”

“No, you know what? This is a load of bollocks! I do not like you, (L/n). In fact, I loathe you!” Ron stood up quickly, his stool tumbling to the ground with a bang. “I feel anything, literally anything except affection for you!” 

You watched Ron storm out of the classroom and looked down at the table. You ignored the students and Slughorn staring at your table and, instead, focused on your bruised knuckles. Were you supposed to tell Ron you smelled his own stupid cologne, broom polish from Quidditch, chocolate frogs and hits of firework ash? 

Before you knew it, you were running out of the classroom, ignoring the calls of your name. You spotted a glance of him rounding the corner and sprinted after it. 

“Ron!” You called out, rounding the same corner. He turned around, his eyes narrowed. This was the first time he heard you say his first name and he wasn’t going to let his shock show through.

“What? Here to make fun of me? Well, go on. You’ll end up doing it anyway tonight. Don’t hold back now.” Ron’s hands balled up into fists. 

“I’m not going to make fun of yo-”

“Yeah, and my hair isn’t red. Don’t bloody lie to me!”

“I’m being serio-”

“No, you aren’t!”

“Ok, you know what?” You stepped forward, grabbing a bunch of his shirt and slamming his back into a wall. He raised his fist to throw a punch, but your free hand caught his wrist. Before he could do anything else, your lips slammed against his. 

He froze against the wall, his skull filling with emptiness at the feeling of your soft lips against his chapped ones. He couldn't stop the questions tumbling through his lips when you separated. He managed to stop when you pressed your forehead against his.  The red-head didn’t have to strain his ears to hear your whisper in the empty hallway but shuddered when your hand threaded through his hair, gently massaging where you pulled earlier.

“I’m sorry..” You pulled back a tiny bit to look into his blue eyes, only now noticing the green flecks twinkling like stars in the night sky. “Does it still hurt?” Your voice was so soft it made his heart ache. He would’ve shaken his head, but didn’t want you to pull your hand away.

“No, it never really hurt.” Ron confessed, his shaky hands awkwardly landing on your waist.

“But you said-”

“I said a lot of things I didn’t mean..” Ron chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes dropping to your sneakers.

“Yeah, so did I.” You whispered awkwardly, just staring at the red-head against the wall. It was a good few minutes before you spoke up again. “Broom polish, earth and chocolate frogs..”

“What?” 

“The um- the love potion.. That’s what I.. That’s what I got from it.” 

“I’m co-”

“Ron, please. I smelled your cologne, the stupid sweets and your broom polish. Idiot.” You chuckled a little.

“Well excuse me, I haven't gotten my brain cogs oiled yet.” Ron smiled a little, desperate to hear more of your laugh. He mentally fist pumped the air when you did, in fact, laugh louder. “Seriously, though, I’m sorry.”

“So am I, Red.” 

“Soooo..” Ron dragged out the o as he tapped his fingers along your waist. He gave you a lopsided grin as he continued. ”Should we go on a date or kiss more?” 

“Why not both?” You leaned in again, stopping just before his lips.

“I like both.. We could go swimming in the Black Lake?” The pale boy grinned wider as his fingers tugged your shirt free from your trousers.

“Ron, it’s like 10 degrees outside- you just wanna see me shirtless!” You pecked his lips, chuckling when he faked a gasp, his hands now resting under your shirt..

“That is entirely not true, (L/n)! Where is your sense of adventure?”

“Not here, Weasley. I might’ve left it in the classroom, ya know, with my books since I had to chase your ass out here.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” It was Ron’s turn to kiss you.

“We have a lot to make to each other already. Let's just start at the basics.”

[tothemeadow]

~*ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ OᑎE*~

warnings: alcohol consumption, oral sex

words: 2.8k

Prologue

-

Perhaps you should’ve have taken Daki more seriously. After that fateful night at the so-called gathering, she’s become adamant on getting you hooked onto the luxurious life. Frankly, you thought the rest of the night was a bore, watching rich people mill about, talking to each other about issues that you could wish to understand. The only thing that really kept you going was the company of your best friend and the delicious edibles set on the many tables.

Time and time again, Daki brought up the encounter you had with Idris’ friends – could they even be called that? She gushed about how handsome Rengoku Kyojuro was, how darling it would be to hang off his arm. You noticed the suggestive hint to her tone; you knew exactly where her train of thoughts was going, and you’d be damned if she acted upon them.

In fact, you’re entirely positive that she’s planning on whisking you into her lifestyle. Even now, as you sit in some one-roomed, slinky club, she taps a manicured finger against her chin. The place itself is dripping with wealth, from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the clusters of velvet chairs, right down to the mahogany bar you sit at. You don’t have the slightest clue how Daki knows of a place like this, but – judging from the few other patrons acquainting the place – it’s meant for those types of meetings. You have the slightest inkling that this is where she met Idris in the first place.

Glancing over at her, you can understand why Idris was drawn to her in the first place; of course, Daki has always been insanely beautiful, but her sense of fashion is impeccable. Combined with her short skirt and the thick platforms on her feet, her legs are long, soft. She looks like she just came off straight off a runway; she might as well have, if the big Chanel logo on her beret hints at anything. She’s perfect sugar baby material, and you’d be lying if you’d say you didn’t respect her for pulling off such a feat.

“Mitsuri really liked you,” Daki’s saying. You snap back to attention, mentally cursing yourself out for getting lost in your thoughts. “She thinks you’re really pretty, too.”

Ah, Kanroji Mitsuri: renowned fashion designer and easily one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever met. Her welcoming, bubbly personality had definitely struck a chord inside you, and you were more than thankful that she had been so nice. Hearing something like that, though… Well…

Staring down at your wine, you swirl the deep red fluid around in your glass. “She’s just being nice,” you say, deflecting the compliment. You didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing.

Rolling her eyes, Daki pops a grape into her mouth and waggles a finger at you. “Listen here, darling; Kanroji Mitsuri thinks you’re pretty. I wouldn’t take that so lightly.”

“You’re also drop dead gorgeous,” you shoot right back. “Of course you wouldn’t take it so lightly.”

“You’re missing the point,” Daki says with a sigh. “An insanely hot and rich woman – who has a great personality, by the way – is interested in you. By the way you two were talking at the gathering, it’s almost like you two have known each other forever.”

Deciding to take the bait, you set your wineglass down and turn towards her. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Go on a date with her, obviously. I know Mitsuri will treat you right. And, if the night ends well…” Trailing off, she follows up with a giggle. “We’d be sugar sisters.”

“Come again?”

“Oh, come on, (y/n)! Think about how much fun it’ll be! Mitsuri will spoil you rotten and you’ll have mind-blowing sex.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the unexpected confession. Wait, did that mean…?

Daki flashes you a sly look. “What, you don’t think I only like men, do you? I may have fucked around with Mitsuri once or twice… But it was only a physical attraction, nothing more. Sometimes you just need to get with a woman.”

Embarrassment crawls up your neck at the mere idea of Daki and Mitsuri engaging in certain… activities. Warmth floods your system; you should be ashamed of thinking of your friend like that, but she did just tell you something you particularly didn’t want to know. And, truth be told, you are growing the slightest bit curious as to how Mitsuri’s like in bed…

A smirk pulls at the corners of Daki’s pretty mouth. She obviously knows what’s going on in your head – the two of you have been friends long enough for it to be second nature at this point. However, it still catches you by surprise as she fishes out a little piece of paper and slides it across the bar to you. “Since you’re clearly thinking about it, have her number,” she purrs. “I don’t think you’ll regret giving her a call.”

Taking the paper into your hands, you examine the neat, curly writing. You can imagine Mitsuri writing down the number, a flattering smile on her face. Your heart nearly skips a beat; did she really feel attracted to you? It’s just that, well, somebody at her social standing would usually stick to someone in the same group. You’re nowhere near it, so to have something like this happen… It’s kind of incredible.

You sigh. “Fuck it. I’ll call her.”

Daki eagerly claps her hands. “That’s my girl!”

-

On second thought, you might be regretting your decision.

Around you, the delicate clank of crystal glasses and fine platters intermingle with the soothing piano music. Other patrons talk amongst themselves, the slight murmur of dozens of voices reminding you of a hoard of bees. Some call out to the waiters passing by, wanting them to refill their glasses or get the check.

The dim, golden light makes the place ethereal, a heavenly glow surrounding everyone’s heads. Your hands glide over the spotless tablecloth, the pristine white of it practically mocking you. Jeez, if a single drop of wine spills on it, they’d probably just throw it away. Damn rich people and their ways – the mere idea of how much this tablecloth costs has your head spinning.

“You don’t have to look so scared,” Mitsuri says. “Believe it or not, but everyone here is just like you.”

You nearly scoff at that. You want to tell her that no, nobody is like you. You’re not rich and swanky, not by a long shot. Besides, this is Kanroji Mitsuri you’re speaking to. She’s part of this crowd; and since she’s a renowned fashion designer with a fairly large following, she’s practically a celebrity.

“I find that hard to believe,” you mutter. Picking up your glass, you take a careful sip of water, not wanting to cause a spill and embarrass yourself.

It’s not helping your nerves in the slightest that Mitsuri looks the way she does; hair pulled into a high ponytail, a slinky dress with a plunging neckline, dangling earrings that reflect the soft golden light. You don’t want to be disrespectful and stare at her pure, creamy skin, but it’s so hard. She’s downright beautiful – breathtaking, even – and it’s a challenge to keep your head on straight.

Her green eyes practically light up at your comment, a light giggle passing through her plump lips. “Everyone feels the pressure, you know. The need to keep up a perfect façade. It’s a shame, really, how so many people in this room wear a mask constantly.” She sighs, then, leaning forward and perching an elbow on the table and resting her chin in her palm. “I’ll be truthful, darling. The very first moment I met you, I knew you’d be different. You’re not some stuck-up corporate brat who’s too deep in their own shit to know right from left anymore. It’s refreshing.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. She hit the nail right on the head; sure, the upper class are usually depicted as being entitled assholes, but to hear it from Mitsuri? That’s just gold. She joins in on your laughter, the sweet, tinkling sound gracing your ears. It’s actually incredible how comfortable you feel around her, despite only knowing her for a couple of days.

“Plus,” Mitsuri continues, her laughter dying down, “I think you’re really cute.”

Scoffing, you try to downplay the excited fluttering in your heart. She’s almost been gushing about how nice you look all night, how much of a pleasantry it was that Daki introduced the two of you. Even better, she was so freaking ecstatic that you called her. Okay, yeah, so maybe you’re interested in Mitsuri. Who wouldn’t be? With the personality of a puppy and the looks of a supermodel, how could anyone say no to her?

“Now you’re just spoiling me,” you tell her.

“What can I say?” Mitsuri replies, voice smooth. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

Shock floods your system, sucks almost all the air from your lungs. Jaw dropping, you gape at her, completely at a loss for words. It doesn’t matter, though; your waiter comes back with the meals the two of you’ve ordered, placing them down gently on the table and busying himself with pouring glasses of wine.

“Enjoy the meal, ladies,” he says, his thick accent flooding his words. With a polite bow, he takes his departure, stepping away with quick, precise movements.

Staring down at the food you ordered, your mouth begins to water. Even though you aren’t the biggest fan of these damned rich people, you’ve got to admit that you’re jealous of the things they eat. Like, look at this! This is something King Midas would eat himself!

“It’s almost as if you’ve never eaten before,” Mitsuri says along with another adorable giggle. “If that’s your reaction, then I’m going to have to take you to every high-end restaurant in town!”

“What? No! Mitsuri, you don’t have to do that!” you ramble. “It’s just… Well…”

“Oh, come on. I want to.” Mitsuri pauses, then, picking up her glass with slender fingers and taking a sip of her wine. “I agree with Daki, you know,” she continues, “I think the two of us could have a lot of fun together.”

“…I’m afraid I don’t understand…?”

Mitsuri casts a devious smile over the rim of her glass at you. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll find out soon enough.”

-

If you can recall it correctly, there’s a saying that would fit perfectly into this moment – blame it on the alcohol. Oh, but you’re not stupid. No, you at least have the guts to own up to your actions, as great or as stupid as they can be. That being said, you don’t want to admit to how desperate you’re feeling.

You didn’t doubt Daki for a single moment. As kind as she is beautiful, Mitsuri is the perfect package. She only managed to prove that point over and over again throughout the evening, swapping stories and genuinely taking the time to get to know you better. You still can’t believe she’s taken so much interest in you, but you aren’t going to complain about it any time soon. In fact, you’re glad that she’s into you.

Perhaps it was your tipsy mind that made you say yes; that’s what you want to believe, anyway. You don’t want to own up to the fact that you practically jumped at the opportunity of Mitsuri taking you home, to some swanky penthouse in one of the richest parts of the city. You barely had any time to gawk at the immaculate décor or overpriced furniture; no, what you got was a short tour as Mitsuri drug you off towards her bedroom.

The moments from there on out became nothing more than a blur. Clothing being slipped off, hands roaming over bare skin, the delicious heat of Mitsuri’s mouth. Your mind is still reeling from the turn of events, but you don’t have a single chance to think about it.

Heavy pants break through your lips, grace the still air in Mitsuri’s bedroom. The mattress is large, unforgivably so, topped with some of the softest blankets you’ve ever felt. Settled between your open legs, Mitsuri looks nothing short of perfection; long ponytail clutched in your grasp, her full eyelashes fluttering, the prettiest of blushes on her face, she’s a remarkable piece of art, reserved for your eyes only. The sounds spilling from between your legs is utterly sinful. Her lips and tongue eagerly work away at your sopping cunt, break down your walls until you’re a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Mitsuri,” you breathe, voice turning shrill towards the end. “That feels so good.”

Mitsuri moans at the praise, her manicured nails digging into the plush flesh of your thighs. Arching her back even more, you’re presented with a better view of her godly ass, the defined dimples on her back. She’s too gorgeous to handle, too fucking sexy. Giving her ponytail a yank, you relish in the pleased hum vibrating in the back of her throat.

“Naughty girl,” Misturi purrs as she pulls away. A mix of slick and smeared lipstick cover her lips, the lewd shine making your insides tighten. “I didn’t say you could do that, now did I?” The mere controlling tone of her voice causes another fat drop of slick to push its way out of your pussy. Eyes locking onto the sight, Mitsuri cracks a salacious smile. “Does baby girl like being talked down to?”

“Don’t… Don’t say it like that,” you whimper.

“I’m just speaking the truth,” Mitsuri purrs. “It’s not my fault this pretty little pussy likes it.” With her words, she traces a finger up and down your slit, collecting even more slick. Waggling the coated finger in your vision, she makes sure your eyes are on her before she slips it into her mouth, her swollen lips wrapping around it. “So tasty,” she moans. “So fucking sweet. You’re a real treat, you know that? It’s a shame Daki didn’t introduce us earlier.”

“Mitsuri-“

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t call me that,” she warns, the honey in her voice turning into something darker, heavier. You swallow thickly. “If you don’t mind, sweets… Call me Mommy. That is, unless you don’t want to cum? That works too.”

Oh, god, with an expression like that and her fingers playing with your sex, you’ll call her anything. “Mommy,” you murmur, “please.”

“Hmmm… What was that?”

Clenching the blankets between your fingers, you call out louder, “Mommy, please!” A loud gasp bursts from your throat, then, as Misturi shoves three fingers into you with no hesitation whatsoever. Her mouth descends on your clit once more, a pleased hum escaping her mouth at your sweet, sweet taste. Your hips buck into her wildly, your back arching off the mattress.

Mind clearing, vision turning fuzzy, your orgasm crashes over, your slick spilling all over her fingers and onto the blankets below. Mitsuri chuckles at that, seemingly pleased with both herself and your reaction. She keeps pressing on, though, her mouth and fingers working you through a second orgasm, and then a third. She’s relentless in her quest to make you cum over and over again, leaving you a shaking, crying mess of overstimulated nerves.

“Oh baby,” Mitsuri purrs once she pulls her mouth away. “You’re such a good girl to me, aren’t you? I’ll groom you real nice, shape you into something utterly perfect,” she continues, leaning in close and brushing her lips against your ear. “You’ll let me, won’t you? Come on, baby, let’s have some fun.” Shuffling up your body, she perches herself over your face, thick thighs encasing your head. “Be a darling and help me out, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mommy,” you coo. “Yes.”

-

In the end, Daki got what she wanted – a sugar sister.

Granted, you weren’t super eager to jump on the opportunity at first, but after some convincing from Mitsuri, you figured why not? As long as it’s with Mitsuri, there’s no harm, really. Plus, if you’re going to continue having incredible nights with her… Hell, of course you’re gonna agree!

“So, how did the date go?” Kyojuro’s voice rings through the phone. He sounds a bit too eager to hear the fine, juicy details.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mitsuri teases. Sitting comfortably next to you in bed, she scans her eyes of your sleeping form, at your bare arms and shoulders unhidden from the blankets. She smiles. “It went great, actually,” she says, voice gentle. “(y/n)’s incredible.”

“She’s a looker, too,” Kyojuro says. Even though Mitsuri can’t see him, she knows he’s smirking. “Real beauty.”

“Heh. It almost sounds like you want me to share her.”

Kyojuro huffs in amusement. “Now that sounds like a good idea. Even Tengen wouldn’t shut up about her after she left. Maybe if you’re feeling generous…?”

Running her fingers over your smooth skin, Mitsuri bites her lip. “…Maybe. If she wants to be shared, that’s up to her. Either way…” she trails off, gives a light giggle. “She’s great in bed.”