#orange can be such a romantic bastard sometimes I can’t

[gaillol-13]

Random AO fact: Orassion edition

I screenshotted a text I sent to a friend cuz I didn’t feel like writing it all down again lol.

[lucy-sky]

BERNTHIRST SPRING FLING 2022

April 22 - Flower Friday

This story is a little bit longer than the ones I wrote on Tuesday and Thursday, and also I’m not sure if Swaino is in character enough - I probably made him a bit too sweet. But since I got the idea, who am I to fight it? Also yes, this is very self-indulgent :’)

I also decided to post all the 3 stories on AO3 as well [link] and to add them to my masterlist, because why not.

*

“Look, Swaino, I don’t know… Buy her flowers or something.”

“Why are you so grumpy today? You sound annoyed…”

“‘Cause I am. I am annoyed! See?” You gesture at the line of customers waiting for their coffee. “I’m a little busy right now, and you keep distracting me from work.”

“Fine, fine, sorry… Guess I chose the wrong time,” Swaino gives you an apologetic look. It always works. He can be a huge dumbass and really annoying at times, but you simply can’t be angry with him for too long. 

“Why are you even asking me about this?” You say in a calmer tone, handing a customer his cappuccino and grabbing a new papercup to make another. “So far, you didn’t have problems with picking up a girl.”

“Uh well… It’s sorta different this time.”

“Different?”

“Yeah, I mean… It’s not just “picking up a girl”, I… I kinda really like her, I guess,” he says, lowering his voice as if he’s telling you some big secret.

“I see,” you give him a soft chuckle. “This girl must be really special then, huh?”

“She is, yeah,” there’s an unusual warmth in Swaino’s voice, he even looks a little flustered when he says it. Wow. Apparently the man’s really in love. To be fair, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous. Just a tiny bit, but still. You're already used to being perceived by men mostly as a "bro" since you've never been great at flirting, or wearing sexy clothes, or anything like that. But no matter how many times you tell yourself you're completely fine on your own, sometimes you wish someone talked about you with such kind of warmth. Plus Swaino… Well, you hate to admit it, but you really find this bastard attractive in a way.

“Well, I really do think flowers are a nice touch,” you say. “For a start.”

“You think?”

“Yep. They create this, you know… Romantic mood. I think most girls appreciate romantic gestures, even if they don't admit it.”

“Okay, yeah… Wait, but… What kind of flowers? Roses?”

“Roses are fine, but… Some girls may find them a bit, you know… Banal.”

“Then what should I do?” Swaino looks puzzled.

“If I were you, I’d try to pick flowers that kinda… Fit her vibe,” you shrug.

“Fit her vibe… What the hell that’s supposed to mean?..”

“Look, if you like her, it means you know her at least a little bit, right? So just… Think of her and choose the flowers you feel like she would love. Or flowers that remind you of her. Something like that. I’m sure she would appreciate it.”

“Oh, okay... Got it.”

“Right. Now will you please let me work?..”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll uh… see ya around,” he nods. “Thanks a lot!”

— A WEEK LATER —

On St. Valentine’s Day you don’t feel very festive: you have a dentist appointment this morning, so you get to work later than usual.

“Hey there, Jane!” You greet your colleague as you enter the coffee shop. “Everything alright?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s great!” Jane smiles brightly. Her expression is suspiciously mischievous.

You head to your workplace behind the counter and blink in surprise. There’s a bouquet of flowers - bright orange gerber daisies. They look beautiful and cheerful, like a bunch of sunbeams.

“What’s that?” You ask, and Jane’s grin turns wider. 

“Oh! The courier brought the like half an hour ago. They’re for you!”

“What?” You stare at the flowers in confusion. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Absolutely not, I swear!”

“Okay, but… Who sent them?..”

“No idea. There was no card or anything… Probably you have a secret admirer!” Jane giggles excitedly. “So sweet!”

“No, come on…” You shake your head in disbelief. “I highly doubt it. Probably it’s a mistake. The courier got the address wrong or something…”

“But he had your full name, so it’s definitely for you! And you know what? I don’t get why you’re so surprised. It’s Valentine’s day after all…”

“Yeah, right,” you huff. Secret admirer… It sounds like a bad joke to you. You don’t really suffer from low self esteem, but for some reason you just couldn’t imagine someone having a crush on you… Maybe someone just wanted to cheer you up like this? Anyway, whoever sent the bouquet, you really appreciate their taste in flowers. Bright sunny colors like yellow and orange have always been your favorite ones, and you liked gerber daisies too. They are quite simple, not pretentious, but still very beautiful.

*

Your working day is almost over when Swaino enters the coffee shop.

“Hey there! Happy Valentines!” he winks as he approaches the counter.

“Hey! Right back at you,” you return the smile. “So, how’s your special girl? Did she appreciate the gift?”

“I dunno yet.”

“No?..” You frown.

“Well you see… That girl’s really very special, as you said…” he pauses before asking tentatively as he nods at the flowers on the counter, “You uh… You didn’t figure out who they’re from, do ya?”

“No, I… Wait a minute…” Your eyes widen at the sudden realization. “Did you… You send me these flowers?..”

“Uh-huh,” he chuckles, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I think they really fit your vibe. You like them?”

“They’re… really amazing, I love them. I can’t believe you actually… Turns out you know me better than I thought. But, Swaino… Why? I mean… You could just simply ask me out…”

“Just wasn’t quite sure if you’re interested in me or not, so I wanted to make sure you’re impressed enough,” he smirks.

“Jesus, Swaino,” you laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re… unbelievable.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, babe. So um… Will you go out with me?” He raises his eyebrows.

“After this performance I guess I have no chance to say no,” you say, and he beams at you happily.

“Great! How about… Right now?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, your working day’s over in like…” Swaino glances at his watch, “fifteen minutes, am I right? And it’s Valentines, so…”

He looks at you with this cheeky wide grin on his face that makes his eyes crinkle adorably, and you think he already knows your answer.

“Okay. Why the hell not?”

*

a special tag for @skvatnavle because she loves Swaino :)

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Adore You (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: hi guys. Yamato is your secret admirer and you are desperate to find out who's been leaving all these gifts at your doorstep. Civilian reader. Will be two parts, and since i just found out i have the coronavirus and cant leave the house, i’ll be putting out the second part very soon.

Ps i headcanon that yamato would be very shy and awkward with his crush. i also think that when he is nervous he definitely has really sweaty hands. idk thats just the vibe i get from him lol. please enjoy.

Word count: 4500

Y/N walked down the street after a long day of working in the bakery, kneading dough and icing cakes and sweets. It was a great job, and she really enjoyed the company of the two elderly owners. In her arms was another small picnic basket filled with sourdoughs and garlic loaves and cinnamon raisin buns. Those leftovers served as her breakfast, lunch, and dinner most days and it saved a lot of money on groceries.

Sometimes, she gifted the bread to friends and family though, like tonight.

As she walked the bustling streets, people walking home from work for the night, she noticed a couple of familiar faces sitting in the windows of a nearby restaurant. Feeling a little social, she walked into the restaurant and turned the corner, walking through the tables and past other booths full of people talking and drinking. It was busy tonight in Konoha, everyone getting ready for the weekend.

She came to a stop beside their table, and shifted so her basket rested in the slight curve of her hip. With her free hand she waved to the men, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Kakashi, Yamato,” she chirped, “I saw you guys in the window on my way home from work and thought I’d stop in to say hello.”

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.” Kakashi hummed, peering over his glass of golden liquid at his friend, who he could tell was struggling to figure out what to say or do. Yamato wasn’t normally nervous; he was very cool headed. How else would he become such an important Anbu member? But around Y/N, this woman with flour dusted in her hair and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate on her clothes, he crumbled. Just that smell alone could make Yamato lose his composure. And Kakashi knew that very well. “As a matter of fact, we were just talking about you.”

Yamato coughed on his drink, covering his mouth with his arm to keep from spitting up on the table. Even if they were just talking about her, it was completely uncalled for for Kakashi to stab him in the back like that. He turned to face the young woman who looked down at him with curiosity in her eyes.

“Really? What about?” she questioned, raising a brow.

He averted his eyes to the table again where his hand rested clutching at the glass. “We were just discussing the bakery,” he explained sheepishly, a hand going to rub the back of his neck. He felt the stress coming on, and sweat was beginning to gather on his palms. He felt ill, and more importantly, upset with the friend sitting directly across from him, smirking under that damn mask.

What an evil bastard.

“Mind if I join you guys? I could definitely use a drink.” She motioned to the seat next to Yamato, and he scooted closer to the wall to make room for her. She made sure her basket was sealed and secure before reaching over the table to Kakashi. “Can you sit this next to you? I don’t wanna take up the whole table.”

“No problem.”

She slid into the seat beside Yamato, and he realized just how small their table really was. The chair was clearly made for one person, or maybe two small people. They were just inches away. He could literally feel the heat of her thigh beside his. He was losing his mind, he was sure of it. There was absolutely no reason to act or think this way just because of a woman, a little baker from the village. No reason. It was inappropriate.

He took a deep breath and sipped on his drink. Everything was cool. Y/N L/N was cool.

“What kind of goods are you bringing home tonight?” Yamato asked calmly.

“Uh, lets see. A sourdough loaf and a garlic rosemary loaf. Also, I have about eight cinnamon buns in there,” she listed off the top of her head, “Why? You wanna take some home with you, because that’s fine. I’m not gonna eat all of it.”

“No, not this time.”

“You, Kakashi?”

“Yeah, I’ll take whatever.” It was a free meal for the next day? How could he say no to that?

The waitress came around, and Y/N ordered a tall glass of some sweet drink, something she knew wouldn’t taste like shit but would get her all warm and cozy quick, fruit juice covering up the taste of poison. “So, what were you guys talking about before I came around? I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“It’s good you came around, actually. We could use a woman’s opinion here.” Yamato glared at Kakashi, pleading with everything he had for the copy nin to just leave it alone. Kakashi was set in his goals though, and pushed forward with what he was saying. “It’s about Tenzo.”

An even brighter smile grew on her lips, one full of mischief and curiosity. “Oohoho? I see. What’s got you men stuck?” She loved to gossip, it was just something so interesting in her mundane life. Surely, it wasn’t as interesting to shinobi who almost die all the time and always have something to do, but for a village girl who goes home every night to read and eat bread, and then go to work where she just makes and sells said bread, a bit of juicy personal information really intrigued her.

“It’s honestly not a big deal-”

“Our boy here, he’s got a crush.”

Her eyes widened and suddenly, she felt the urge to down even more of her drink. He was interested in someone? She never expected that. He was always so quiet and calm, and kept to himself. He didn’t seem like the type to ever care about someone in that way. She sighed, taking a long sip on her drink, which tasted like peaches and oranges. At least it was sweet enough to help her curb the impending sadness.

Maybe she was stupid for it, but she cared for Yamato. He was such a sweet and kind man, so earnest and gentle. He was everything good about her mornings, when he would walk in and ask for the same hot cross bun to start his day. He would smile and compliment the cake decorating she was working on, and tell her about his missions and what he had to do for the day.

Perhaps Y/N had the tiniest of crushes on Yamato. It was something she would never reveal to anyone else, but it was true. She couldn’t deny herself that fact.

Kakashi stared at the woman, gauging her reaction to the statement. From the way she immediately went to sip away half of the drink in her glass, and the way her shoulders curled in on themselves, he could guess how she was feeling. He wasn’t usually a fan of meddling in other people’s business, but he was beginning to feel tired of Yamato complaining day in and day out about how he could never get the girl or express his feelings. He was afraid of rejection, as sad as that might be.

He was just there to give them a push in the right direction.

“I see.”

“What do you think he should do? What do the civilian girls like?”

This crush was just another civilian. It would be one thing if he fell in love with a kunoichi, someone she would never be able to compete with, but the thought of him choosing another normal woman over her, the envy practically oozed from her pores. What did this other girl have that Y/N didn’t?

Y/N ordered another drink when the waitress walked by. And then another after she drank the second one. Might as well get more down and drown out these jealous thoughts.

Meanwhile, she listed off things that random women normally like when men do for them, things she didn't really care about like chocolates and asking them out to dinner and giving them stuffed animals. Boring things. Things they all already knew. Kakashi agreed that the advice was kinda bland, and he could have come up with that easily.

Yamato eyed her down nervously as she practically chugged the rest of her drink. The woman wasn’t a big drinker, just a couple innocent cocktails here or there, never with the intention of getting drunk.

“You okay, Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” she told him smoothly. “Anyway, I’m not done telling you all about us village girls.”

The third drink came by and she sighed, taking another long sip. At least it tasted good, that made it easy to drink and drink and drink.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

“Maybe you should worry about yourself. I’m grown. I can handle myself, Yamato.” He felt a pang in his chest at her sharp words, ones that he’d never really heard directed toward him. She scolded Kakashi on the daily for being a pervert, but only kind words met Yamato’s ears previously. “Anyway, about this girl. Have you tried getting her anything as a gift? The things I listed before? Love notes? That sorta thing?”

He shook his head. “Well, no. I haven’t tried anything yet.”

“That’s the thing about you, Tenzo. You’re so modest. If you want the girl, you need to go in and get her. You need to show her what she means to you, since you can’t bring yourself to just outright tell her.”

“The whole bold displays of affection aren’t my thing.”

She hummed, her head lolling from side to side as she twirled the straw of her drink in between her fingers. “Maybe you should try some roundabout approach since you’re so scared of rejection. Send her anonymous letters and gifts, give her little clues that it’s you and see how she reacts.”

“Like a secret admirer?"

“Exactly! That’s sooo romantic. I wish some guy would do that shit for me.”

Kakashi raised a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Of course. I’m almost 27 and I’ve never had a long lasting relationship. I just want some guy to really, I don’t know, just love me. Love who I am, not hook up with me for my body or-or only pretend to like me for coupons on bread,” she complained, quite loudly as well. “Fuck those guys and their bread discounts...”

“Y/N-”

“I’d suggest you do something like that for your crush. Make her feel like you really care about her mind and soul.” Y/N clutched her hand over her heart and squeezed the front of her dress. “So many men nowadays act like horny teenagers, and us ladies are sick of it.”

She really did not need to go into such detail, and Yamato could tell she was drinking too much. Y/N would never say these things aloud if she were completely in her right mind. He felt rude just sitting there letting her rant on and on, exposing her own feelings to the table. But at the same time, he was grateful to know what she wanted in a lover. She never really let on what her romantic life was like, other than single for the most part.

That is what he and Kakashi were discussing before she came around. He was desperate to sweep her off her feet and woo her, to make revealing his feelings easier. Kakashi told him to just go to the bakery and tell her right then and there, but that was just too bold. He wasn’t going to go in without a plan, it was irrational.

“Yamato, I’m telling you, if this woman rejects you, she’s fucking stupid. You’re a catch. You and Kashi over there, both of you could get any woman you want, and that’s a fact.” the woman waved her hand to emphasize her point, only to knock the rest of her fourth drink over into her lap, sticky syrup soaking into her apron and through to her skirt. “Oh man.”

“I think it’s time for you to head home, little miss Y/N,” Kakashi chimed in, “This is exactly why we don’t bring you to bars, you know.”

“Shush. I am fine.”

Yamato sighed, motioning with his hands for her to move to the edge of the seat. He rolled his eyes at her words, knowing she was talking out the ass. “Yeah, yeah. Just get up, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”

Both men were surprised when she lifted her hand and pushed him away from her. Her glare was intense, anger behind those eyes. “No! Not you. I want Kakashi to walk me home.” The man was taken aback by the harshness in her tone. She was normally calm tempered, but her head was spinning and she was obviously growing moody.

“That’s fine by me. Yamato, you’ll pick up the bill for us and uh, clean this mess, right?” Kakashi smirked as he slid out from the booth and picked up her bag of baked goods. She followed suit, climbing out of her seat and grabbing onto the shinobi’s arm tightly. He really couldn’t care any less about her nonsense. It had been so long since they became friends, he’d seen her in every mood imaginable, and much drunker than this. He’s walked her home more than a few times in their past years.

“Curse you, cheap-ass.”

“Gotta go.”

With that, the white haired man walked out the restaurant with a woman in tow. They lived in the same direction, so he started down the street as she stumbled after him, tripping occasionally on pebbles. He felt bad for his friend, really. But the answer was clear as day now. Y/N cared for Yamato a lot more than she let on. It was just up to one of them to make a move. He couldn't do everything for them.

She tripped along beside him, letting her head fall against his shoulder a few times. Her eyes slid up to the man’s masked face, and he felt her hands begin to quiver a bit around his arm, just a tiny bit, but it was still there. Those little, very-telling, tremors.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked gently, knowing she would immediately spill whatever was stuck on her mind.

“Kashi, why does Tenzo want some other village girl?” she questioned, her cheeks puffing out and her eyes getting watery with tears. “Why doesn’t he want me? I want him so badly, it hurts right here.” she placed her free hand over her stomach and gagged. “I might throw up, it hurts so much.”

“Trust me, it’s gonna be okay,” he hushed, a tiny smile on his lips. He didn’t want to reveal too much to her, but it was just so amusing pulling the strings like this. Two of his friends, one a subordinate and the other a sneaky baker, falling for each other right in front of him. With all the work piling up, this was definitely a refreshing take.

“Also, you shouldn't throw up. It'll burn your throat, you know.”

She nodded, and just clutched onto her stomach as they made their way down the narrow alleyways toward her small apartment. He unlocked the door for her when she struggled to fit the key into the tiny hole that blurred together with everything else. He was a good friend, she thought, and made a mental note to thank him next time she saw him. Well, she tried to make a mental note, but when her body hit the mattress in the corner of her small studio, she found herself drifting away.

__________

God, her head hurt so badly she thought her skull was cracking open right then and there, as she lifted her head from her pillow. Light shined in through the window only to make things worse than before. She looked around the room and noticed that her coat was hung up properly on the hook and her shoes were sitting by the door. Her basket rested atop her counter.

Most importantly, on her nightstand sat a glass of water and a couple pills, ready for her to take the moment she woke up. Kakashi or Yamato must have walked her home and put her to bed. They were very nice men, she enjoyed having them as friends, she just worried she had made a drunken fool of herself last night in front of them. She rarely drank heavily, for that reason. She couldn’t even remember what happened, just that she met them at the restaurant and then the rest fell empty in her mind, little images blending together until she couldn’t decipher a thing that happened. She was more than ashamed.

How could she lose control of herself so casually, she wondered. She never even wanted to drink, much less enough to give her this searing headache. Something must have happened last night that influenced her decisions. Maybe she had a drinking contest with Kakashi like that one time before. If so, that was completely uncalled for on the man’s part. He knew her tolerance.

Nevertheless, she needed to get ready for work. A hangover wasn’t enough to heed the workings of the bakery.

She took the pills, and threw off her covers, walking over to her counter to take out one of the cinnamon rolls, taking a big bite to curb her hunger pains. After taking a moment to compose herself, she got ready for work. If she was late, she knew the owners would be forgiving, but she still felt bad regardless. She was going to walk in looking like a complete disaster.

As she headed out her door that morning, she stumbled on something sitting right at the foot of her doorstep on the welcome mat. Resting there, in a tiny little ceramic pot, stood a bonsai tree, trimmed and cared for perfectly. Her eyes scanned the area for who could have set it there, but met only empty space.

Hesitantly, she picked it up and brought it into her home. There was no note attached, nothing to signal who’d given it to her. Just a little tree that she would put on her window sill. It was strange, she had to admit that, to receive an anonymous gift at such an hour. She’d have to ask her friends about it later on to see if one of them had given it to her, for reasons she didn’t know.

But as the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, she continued to receive gifts every few days. More tiny trees in pots, sometimes flowers in little glass vases. None of them at first had anything attached until the most recent piece which when she picked it up to take into her home, a folded piece of paper sat beneath the vase. She made sure to pick it and put it in her apron to read on her break when she went to work. She didn’t have the time when she woke up only about 20 minutes before she was due at her job.

She was more than grateful for the little garden she was accumulating on her window sill, the beautiful flowers and trees somehow surviving despite her little knowledge of taking care of them. She stopped by a flower store in town to get some fertilizer just to keep them alive. It would be a shame if they died since someone was being so kind as to give them to her.

With her boring life, the flowers brought a smile to her face and a warmth in her heart that she hadn’t felt before. Regardless of who was leaving the items there, she felt like she was important to someone. Some person was taking time out of their day to show they cared about her.

Truthfully, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished it was Yamato leaving her gifts. She’d been attracted to the man for quite some time, ever since they met really. He was just so strong and brave, and awkward in a cute kind of way. He was truly the only man of her affections, and she could only dream she was the object of his as well.

It was more than unlikely though. He was a strong ninja of the leaf. The chances of someone that amazing wanting to be with someone as simple as the town baker were lower than she wanted to admit. He most likely had his eyes set on some gorgeous kunoichi like Shizune or Kurenai. Someone he could relate to, really.

It was embarrassing to even admit she had a crush on him. It made her feel so tiny and weak, knowing that she wasn’t his ideal.

So she pushed that thought from her mind. Yamato would never be interested in her, and he most certainly not the one leaving her little notes and plants.

What she did know was that this person was a shinobi. Maybe not Yamato, but they were definitely a shinobi. She set up a trap, at least one she thought a normal person would fall for. Right before her door, she set up a tiny trip wire made of floss at the perfect level for someone to pull loose when they walked up to leave a gift on her welcome mat. Her room was at the very end of the hallway, so there was no way anyone else except her secret admirer was the one to set off the trap. Any normal person without the high perception of a shinobi would set off the trap and she would be able to narrow down the results to a civilian.

Only, the morning after she set up the trip wire, when she opened her door, there sat another bouquet of flowers, as well as an untripped strip of floss.

This person had to be a shinobi. She concluded. It was the only explanation in her mind, desperate to find out who the mystery person was all this time.

As she walked the streets that afternoon after the store had closed, her eyes honed in on Yamato, who stood next to a vegetable stand picking up some groceries. Immediately, she turned on her heel and cornered him between the squash and the sweet potatoes.

“Yamato, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. Do you mind?” she practically demanded, and his eyes widened. He did not expect such an abrupt conversation between them. He shifted awkwardly to rest his grocery bag in the crook of his elbow and lean on his left side, arms crossed over his chest.

He knew what she wanted to talk about. It was about those gifts that he had been giving her. It was just a matter of whether she had figured out it was him or not, that was the question. He was kinda hoping she didn’t know yet. He was not ready to face what came after the reveal, rejection or otherwise. He really hadn’t thought it that far out yet. How could he. Just thinking up love notes and what plants to give her next was more than enough to worry about.

But damn, when he looked down at her, hair dusted with flour from a days work, a smudge of cake batter still on her forearm, apron a complete mess, he wanted to cave and tell her everything. She was just so beautiful, so clumsily perfect he couldn’t help but lose his train of thought. He swore he’d never seen a woman more perfect than her, not even Naruto’s sexy jutsu could come close to this girl.

He found his ears heating up and no doubt turning red at the thoughts running through his mind, and he was quick to smother them down. He was not irrationally emotional. Hell, he was ANBU, he should be able to control his emotions down to a tee.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I have a secret admirer, and I know they are a shinobi.”

He felt himself growing nervous. How had she deduced that? “Ah, that’s definitely exciting for you. How do you know it’s a shinobi?”

“I know because I set up a tripwire last night and the person didn’t set it off, so I know they are coordinated enough to avoid it. This isn’t just some random village boy. This is someone skilled.”

“Y/N, he could have very well just avoided the trap with his natural gait, don’t you think?” he tried to reason with her, try to get her off his trail. Admittedly, he thought she was quite clever for setting up the trap. When he walked over it the night before, he swore it was just a spider web. He didn’t even consider the possibility of a trap in his way.

If only he could throw her off his scent. He needed more time. He couldn’t confess to her now. It was too abrupt, too sudden. He would probably die.

“No, I’m convinced it’s a shinobi.”

Shit. “Well, what are you going to do now?”

She thought for a short moment on what she was going to say, tapping her foot on the ground beside her. Her eyes widened and she smiled at the thought that ran through her mind. Of course, it was so obvious. “The gifts come sporadically, so I know that the shinobi can’t leave gifts when they are on missions. Next time there is a long break in gifts, I will just ask around to figure out who has been on a mission for a while. Bam, I’ve got my answer. It’s foolproof.”

She really had thought this through more than him. She was too good, and he felt himself panicking. He had a weeklong mission in 3 days, and if she asked anyone, they would tell her it was him. He felt moisture gather up at his brow, and he internally cursed his situation. He had to find some way out of this mess without her figuring out it was him.

“Yeah, that could definitely work. I hope it all works out for you, Y/N,” he lied through his teeth.

“I know. I’m just smart like that, aren’t I?”

“You sure are,” he muttered, but honestly, he just wanted to go off and find Kakashi. He needed to talk to him. His eyes slid away from Y/N and he sighed. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t forget to stop by before your next mission to get some of our special food pills, okay? I just made a new batch and you can try them free of charge. Anything for a fella as handsome as yourself.” She laughed, shifting her weight to press a hand to her hip.

Jeez. There was no good reason for her looking so adorable. Calling him handsome as well? It was all too much for his heart to handle. Needless to say, he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t walk away right then. With that, he simply nodded before patting her shoulder. “Like I said, gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. See you around.”

“See you.”

He walked away quickly, heading in the direction of Kakashi’s apartment, knowing he just had to do something about the mess he was currently in, and ways to avoid the inevitable. His heart was racing so fast he thought he might be having a heart attack. How could he be swayed so easily by a pretty face. He had no idea, but he really wanted it to stop. For the sake of his sanity, he needed to learn to be calm around her.

He would tell her soon, get all this off his chest and share his true feelings. He just needed a bit more time.

[jaskierswolf]

Ok folks! Here’s some demiromantic Jaskier/ Ace Geralt (feat. a prostitute or two)

This idea was by my ever lovely friend @slythnerd who gave me a bullet list fic and I offered to write it! This is smutty. Do not read if you are under 18. I’ve also never written anything like this before. So be kind? __________

What do you call a bard who’s never fallen in love?

A bad joke, perhaps. The answer is Jaskier. A bard famed for his romantic poetry and exploits and yet he’s never once felt that flutter in his heart strings when he’s looked at someone beautiful. So he keeps trying, over and over and over. He falls into beds of lovers all over the Continent and earns himself quite the reputation. He enjoys sex. He’s good at sex but dearest Melitele he yearns for more. He wants love.

He’s a poet and a romantic and he wants love.

He’s twenty six when he gives up on romantic love for himself. Love is a beautiful and enriching adventure but not one that he will ever experience.

Or so he thinks.

He’s twenty eight when his world is completely turned upside down. After travelling with Geralt for a decade he’s sure that the witcher cannot surprise him any further. That’s when the dreams start. He dreams of holding the witcher’s hand as they walk down the path, Roach trailing after them. He dreams of kissing Geralt goodbye whenever they part, be it for winter or just for the evening. He dreams of waking up each morning wrapped in a lover’s embrace. He dreams of Geralt saying those words.

And for once in his short life, those words don’t scare him. They don’t make him want to run away. They don’t feel him with dread and a sense of inadequacy. He dreams of Geralt saying those words… and he dreams of saying them back.

It’s a startling realisation and one that has him scrambling for his notebook and quill. He stays up all night scribbling away in his messy scrawl until his feelings are left staining the page.

He’s exhausted and giddy with love when he sees Geralt the next morning over breakfast but instead of joy he’s hit with icy dread. How could Geralt ever love him back? He’s been sleeping around, quite unashamedly for the last ten years and it’s gotten them both into more trouble than Geralt’s contracts.

Fuck.

So the smile falls from his face and he pretends that nothing has changed.

Everything has changed and Geralt fucking knows it.

After three days of tense silence every unspoken word explodes between them.

“Just fucking say something, Jaskier!” Geralt yells across the campfire.

“I can’t!” Jaskier buries his face in his hands. His heart aches and he wishes he could return to the numb nothingness of before but it’s too late. He loves his best friend and he loves him with all of his heart.

“Why not?” Geralt glowers, eyes ablaze in the light of the flames.

“Because I love you!” Jaskier screams and the words fill the forest like a battle cry. “I love you” He’s rambling now. “and I never thought I could so I just fucked around hoping that someone would be good enough in bed to make me fall in love with them. No one ever was and… and I felt so fucking broken!” He exclaims with a wide wave of his arms. “Broken, useless, unlovable sorry excuse for a bard! But oh no no, turns out it wasn’t a good fuck I needed.” He glares at Geralt, blaming the witcher for his sudden tidal wave of emotions. “turns out I just needed you. My best friend in the whole wide world but I never fucking saw it so I kept screwing around and now you hate me for it and that’s just shit because it turns out… it turns out that I love you. You bastard.”

He’s said too much. He claps his hands over his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

And he runs.

Or at least he tries to. Geralt’s hand in holding his wrist. “Don’t be. Don’t be sorry. Don’t go.” Geralt whispers in the dark of the night. His face lit up by the orange glow of the campfire. “Stay.”

“You. You don’t hate me?” Jaskier asks, his voice cracking pitifully.

Geralt shakes his head. “No. The opposite. I think.”

Jaskier frowns as he tries to decipher Geralt’s riddles. “The opposite? But. but Geralt?”

“I know.”

“Don’t fucking mess with me now, witcher.” Jaskier hisses, his heart is too fragile. He’s not used to any of this torment.

“I’m not.” Geralt sighs. “But I can’t. I don’t want.” He cuts himself off with a low groan and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Jaskier tilts his head. “You don’t want what, Geralt?”

“Sex. I know, the whole Continent knows, how much you love it.”

“Oh hey!” Jaskier protests but really Geralt does have a point. “Hang on, what about Yennefer, or Triss…. or what was her name? With the swords going missing?”

“Coral.”

Jaskier snaps his fingers. “You fucked her for weeks!”

Geralt shrugs. “It’s what they wanted.”

Alarm bells start ringing in Jaskier’s mind. It’s what they wanted, not Geralt. Geralt hadn’t wanted it. “Did they….”

Geralt smiles faintly with a shake of his head. “No. I said yes. It’s what they wanted, what’s expected of me.” His nose wrinkles. “Yen’s unicorn though. Never again.”

Jaskier whimpers as he embraces Geralt tightly. “I will never. I promise you. If you don’t want sex then we don’t have to have sex. Are kisses alright?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

Geralt frowns. “Umm.”

“No then.” Jaskier sighs. “Hugs?”

“Yeah.”  That’s a relief for Jaskier. He’s always needed physical touch and he’s been hugging Geralt for years. The thought that he could have been making his best friend uncomfortable makes him feel sick to his stomach. “What about you?” Geralt asks. “You love sex.”

Jaskier shrugs. “I have two hands.” He winks. “And I’ve heard mages sell all sorts of enchanted toys these days. I’ll manage.”

Geralt shakes his head. “No. I can’t take that from you.”

“But I love you. Do you know how much that means to me Geralt?” Jaskier says quietly, staring down at his feet, fingers pulling at his sleeves. “I never thought that I could.”

“What if you still have sex with others?” Geralt suggests and Jaskier just gapes at him.

“You. You mean that?”

“Yeah.”

“You wouldn’t be jealous?” Jaskier asks.

Geralt raises an eyebrow at him. “You love me, after fucking your way around the Continent. You love me.”

Jaskier licks his lips and nods. “I do. Fucking mother of… I love you.” The words still sound like heaven on his tongue. He would never get used to saying them even if he lived for a hundred years. “I love you.”

Geralt laughs softly and strokes Jaskier’s cheek with his thumb. “I love you too. I trust you. You’ll come back to me. You always have.”

Jaskier joins in with Geralt laughter. The witcher is right. Even before his epiphany Jaskier always returned to Geralt whether it’s after years apart, or merely after a quick romp in the hay. He would come back to Geralt until his dying breath.

So they settle into a new routine. Geralt enjoys sharing a bedroll or bed at the inn when they can but doesn’t begrudge Jaskier if he finds another partner for the night. He rarely stays with them after sex now though. He has his heart to return to and that’s better than any carnal delight. One evening after one such adventure with a particularly gorgeous prostitute, Geralt surprises them both.

“Did you have fun?” He murmurs into the nape of Jaskier’s neck as they snuggle close in the bed.

Jaskier frowns. Surely Geralt’s not asking about his sex life? “Yes?” He answers, sounding more than a little unsure.

There’s a soft press of lips to the back of his neck and he shudders. Geralt didn’t kiss him very often but it makes his heart sing every time. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“No. It was good.” He stammers, trying desperately to control the way his heart is thundering in his chest.

Geralt scoffs. “Good?”

“Very good.” He admits with a soft moan.

“Tell me.” Geralt all but growls.

“Umm well.” His mouth goes dry. He curses mentally, for a wordsmith all words appear to have left him. “She. She used her mouth?”

“Go on.”

Jaskier swallows, willing himself not to get hard. He really didn’t want to make this uncomfortable for Geralt but Geralt’s voice in his ear and the memories of the girl’s mouth on his cock. It’s all too much.

“Gods, Geralt it was…. she was so talented.” He sighs, sinking back into the memory. The room had smelt like sweat and sex and sin, but the bed was soft beneath his fingers as he gripped the sheets. “She swallowed my cock down in one go, oh and the moan. Geralt, it was sinful. You’ve never seen anyone’s lips so good as her’s did around my cock. Her mouth, fuck, so wet and warm.”

“And that did you do?” Geralt asks, a low rumble in his ear.

“I couldn’t help myself.” Jaskier lets out a moan at the memory. “I. I pulled her hair and the noises she made when I fucked her mouth. She took it all so well. She did this thing with her tongue…” Jaskier bites his lip. He’s hard and he just knows Geralt can smell his arousal. “I didn’t even have time to warn her before I came down her throat, and oh how she moaned. She swallowed every last drop.”

Jaskier feels Geralt’s teeth graze against his shoulder and he realises with a start that he can feel Geralt’s erection pressed up against his arse.

Oh.

“Geralt?” He asks, scared that he’ll shatter the moment and Geralt will push him away.

“Hmm?”

“Is. Is this alright?” His voice is breathy as he tries to contain his arousal. Geralt comfort is more important.

There’s a few seconds of tense silence before Geralt answers. “Yes. I like it.”

“Shall I continue?” Jaskier asks.

“Please.”

And so they fall into a routine. Jaskier fucks whoever takes his fancy and later that evening, if Geralt asks, he tells Geralt all about it, slowly becoming less shy with the details. He learns what Geralt enjoys most and what he doesn’t really care for. Sometimes he twists the story to make sure Geralt is getting what he needs out of it. Geralt comes in his own hand to Jaskier’s words and quite often Jaskier isn’t far behind.

It works for them and there’s a certain thrill to it all that Jaskier would have never expected when Geralt first told him he wasn’t interested in having sex. They explore the boundaries of this new part of their relationship. Jaskier learns he can be as filthy as he likes when Geralt asks him to tell him about his latest fuck but they can’t talk about any fantasies involving Geralt. Geralt had asked him to describe it one night and Jaskier agreed. He sat in a chair in the corner of the room and began to weave his tale of how he would worship Geralt’s cock but Geralt froze. Jaskier knew in an instant that something was wrong and his words died on his lips. They didn’t share a bed that night and they haven’t talk about Geralt in bed since.

The greatest surprise comes when Geralt hovers next to him outside the door of the brothel.

Jaskier turns to face his partner with a quirk of his eyebrow. Normally Geralt would have left him for the tavern by now but Geralt is just staring up at the door. Jaskier wonders when the last time Geralt visited a brothel was, back when he tried to fit in with what people expected of a man, probably.

“Geralt?” Jaskier places a hand on Geralt’s bicep.

“Hmm?”

“Did.” Jaskier cuts himself off and bites the inside of his cheek. He really hopes that he isn’t reading this wrong. He can’t lose Geralt, not now. “Did you want to come in?”

Geralt’s hair flies round as he turns to face Jaskier. “What?”

“You could watch?” Jaskier suggests, trying to keep his voice light. “Or not?” He adds with a shrug.

Geralt makes a choking noise and he’s blushing brighter than Jaskier has ever seen him blush before. “You don’t want that.” He mumbled.

Jaskier wants to laugh in sheer astonishment but he doesn’t. He knows laughing will just make Geralt run from him. “Geralt, dear heart, I would love that!”

Geralt glares at him as if he’s grown a second head but Jaskier can’t let go of the idea now. It’s seared into his mind. The thought of Geralt… watching him.

“Fuck.” He moans and he’s already getting hard.

Geralt’s nose flares and Jaskier knows he’s been caught out. “You… you’re aroused?”

“Yes. Well. Thank you, dearest.” Jaskier mumbles. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You don’t think I’m a pervert?” Geralt’s brow furrows and Jaskier reaches up to try and smooth away the wrinkles.

“No.” He insists. “I want you to watch, as long as you’re comfortable.”

Geralt swallows and looks back at the brothel as if he were preparing to go into battle. “Alright.”

Geralt strides inside and Jaskier is left on the street staring after him until his brain catches up and he scurries after Geralt. It doesn’t take long to persuade the owner to let them share a girl, once they assure her that Geralt will only be watching. Jaskier wants to fight that. If he and Geralt want to share a prostitute and the girl is willing then why shouldn’t they? Just because Geralt is a witcher.

The bloody cheek of it.

But Geralt’s hand is on his back, guiding him upstairs, before he can snap and they’re thrown out of the establishment.

The girl’s name is Anna and Jaskier thinks she’s fucking gorgeous. Her curves are soft where Geralt is all muscle and her dark hair falls down to waist in waves. She winks at them both as they shuffle awkwardly into the room.

“I’ve been told you’re watching, witcher.” She says with one hand on her hips.

Geralt nods stiffly and settles into a chair in the corner of the room as she shuts the door.

“He likes to watch.” Jaskier explains with a wink of his own as she takes him by the hand and leads him to the bed. “And who I am to deny him the pleasure?”

“Jask.” Geralt warns in a low voice.

“What?” He asks, feigning innocence.

“Maybe you should put that mouth of yours to good use, bard.” Geralt suggests with a smirk.

Jaskier blinks, his cock achingly hard in his trousers, and he lets out a soft groan. “I thought you were just watching, witcher!”

Anna laughs and sits on the bed, her legs spread wide. Jaskier’s eyes go wide and he turns back to face Geralt with a tilt of his head. Geralt nods and Jaskier crawls onto the bed, ready to devour the offering in front of him. It’s not often that whores will so boldly put their own pleasure first but Jaskier adores it. He nuzzles at the soft wet folds, relishing in the feel of her warm thighs under his fingers. She lets out a moan as he flicks his tongue out against her clit. He glances up at her, her face with a smirk. She’s flushed already and her eyes are dark with hunger.

“Pull his hair.” Geralt says in a low growl.

She does. Her fingers scrape against his scalp before tugging at his hair, pulling his head back. He feels like he’s on fire and he’s dizzy with lust, a moan escapes his lips and she pushes his head back between her legs. She tastes divine and his head spins as he elicits sinful gasps and curses from her lips and his tongue delves inside her. He hums as he shifts his weight on the bed, trying to get a better angle. His cock drags across the mattress and he whines. He needs the friction. He needs….

She’s tugs again at his hair and he looks up, feeling heady as he wipes his lips.

“Take his clothes off.” Geralt says.

Jaskier blinks and looks over to his partner, crawling off the bed so they can remove his clothes without fuss. Geralt’s hand is wrapped around his cock and he’s leisurely stroking it, as if he has all the time in the world. Jaskier can’t help but watch the slow movements of Geralt’s hand, the way the muscles in his arms flex with every stroke. He swallows as Anna turns his face back so he’s facing her. Her fingers are nimble as she unlaces his trousers and he goes to pull his doublet off.

“Let her.” Geralt orders. “You deserve to be unwrapped, to be savoured.”

Jaskier whimpers but lets his hands drop to his sides. Anna smirks and her lips brush against his neck and gods his legs feel weak underneath him as she slowly removes his doublet, followed by his shirt. She kneels in front of him as she pulls his trousers and underclothes down in one swoop. Jaskier’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses the tip of his cock. He looks over to Geralt who raises an eyebrow.

“Can she?” He asks, not proud of the way his voice cracks but he’s so overwhelmed with the desire that’s burning through his veins.

Geralt nods. “Yes.” His voice is a low growl that makes Jaskier’s breath hitch. “But don’t let him come in your mouth.”

Jaskier groans as he eyes flutter shut. “Fuck.”

He’d forgotten he’d told Geralt that. He likes to come inside his partner. There’s just something so impersonal about spilling into their mouth and he’s not as young as he used to be. It takes him longer these days to get hard again.

She works him over with her mouth, and it’s not long before he’s on the brink of a soul shattering orgasm. Geralt tells her exactly how much teeth to use when pulling off his cock, and he knows that his balls get too sensitive to touch. She swirls her tongue just like Geralt suggest and Jaskier gasps wordlessly before her lips pull off his cock with a pop. He groans in frustration.

“You can fuck her now, Jask.”

Oh gods it’s all too much and it’s perfect. They should have done this months ago. She guides him back towards the bed, tugging him by the hand and he gladly follows, his eyes tearing away from Geralt.

It’s heaven as he sinks into the warmth of her body. She gasps underneath him as she grips the sheets. Jaskier loves to hear the sounds of his lovers but he hates it when it sounds fake. He likes it to be genuine and Geralt knows this. Anna doesn’t whine and scream the way most whores do, on Geralt’s request. Every sound that escapes her pretty red lips is like music to his ears, short gasps as he kisses her neck or long drawn out moans when pulls out inch by inch before slamming back until he’s buried to the hilt.

“Fuck it feels so good.” He moans as he feels his orgasm flying towards him. “Feels so good.”

“That’s it darling.” She gasps. “I’m almost there!”

It’s the pet name that does it. Another one of Geralt’s suggestions.

Sparks cloud his vision and he lets out a loud moan as he spills into her. She cries out and her teeth bite down on his neck as she follows him over the edge.

“Fuck.” He hears Geralt’s grunt from the corner of the room.

Jaskier wants to laugh, giddy from the sex. “Fuck.” He agrees.

They don’t stay the night at the brothel but Anna lets him kiss her goodbye. It’s not long before they are curled up together on a bedroll in the forest, the stars shining high above them.

“Soooo….” Jaskier drawls as he draws a slow pattern on Geralt’s chest. They are both fully clothed now but they enjoy the intimacy of the snuggling and it always makes Jaskier feel like he’s on top of the world after an evening of sexual delights.

“Hmm?”

“The brothel?” Jaskier asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“We’re so doing that again right?”

Geralt laughs and presses a kiss to his hair. “Yes.” _______

Tag list: @electricrituals @slythnerd @hailhailsatan @thecomfortofoldstorries @gelos @sweetdreamingpeach @moonysourenza @00qtee

[angryinternetduck]

Key

hello!!! this is my submission for the @1dffchallenges​​ quarantine challenge. here’s 4.3k words of fluff on you and Harry in an established relationship, quarantining together in his cafe. featuring Valentine’s Day lattes in March, neon green crocs, and a proposal or two.  

A smile curved your lips involuntarily as you walked into the cafe, breathing in the rich scent of coffee and sighing in the warm air. You shrugged off your coat, folding it over your arm and hovering around the edge of the cafe for a moment. 

It was just after lunch and the rush was fading. You tried to look nonchalant, letting your gaze drift over the various paintings on the wall, but your eyes kept darting to the cute barista behind the counter. 

His name tag said Harry, and his dark curls were hidden under a black cap. Your stomach fluttered every time he met your gaze. You’d been in there countless times, but you swore your heart rushed more each time he looked at you. 

Once he finally finished his last order and the line had disappeared, you walked over. He grinned, leaning over the counter. “Well, hello, there,” he greeted you. “Hello,” you said back, smiling up at him coyly. 

“What can I getcha?” he asked, and you hummed, looking at the menu behind him. “How about… hm. How about, surprise me?” He raised a brow, shifting forward, and said, “How about… a kiss?” He pursed his lips and closed his eyes, making kissy noises. 

You giggled, shaking your head but kissing him anyway. “This friendly to all of your customers, are you?” you asked, walking around the counter. “Only the ones I date,” Harry replied, starting on your latte.

“Yeah?” you said. “And how many is that?” 

Harry winked. “Don’t worry, love, you’re my favorite.” 

“You flatter me,” you laughed, hopping up on the counter and swinging your legs. Kissing you again as he walked past to grab something next to you, Harry said, “My soul purpose in life,” and you snickered. “What a sad fate.” 

Harry shrugged, nudging your leg. “I’ve learned to enjoy it.”

“Impressive,” you said, taking the cup as he handed it to you. “A Valentine’s Day Latte,” he said, and you frowned. “It’s March, H.” He smirked. “And?” You laughed, and took a sip, and he raised a brow. “Yay or nay?” You tilted your head from side to side, taking another sip before nodding your head. “Yay,” you decided, and he pumped his fist. “Success!” 

“Very Valentiney,” you laughed, and he shrugged, leaning back on the counter behind him. “That was the intention,” he told you. You peered into the glass, watching the rose petals float around in the pink colored coffee. “And pink,” you added. 

“Got something against pink, hm?” 

“Of course not!” you exclaimed. “Only makes it better!” 

Harry grinned. “Wicked.” 

There was a beat of silence, and you sighed, your smile fading a bit as you swung your legs. “So I just came from Niall’s…” Harry nodded and crossed his arms across his chest. “Right. How’s the pub doing, then?” he asked, and you shrugged. “Eh. He was telling me about closing for COVID.” 

Harry bit his lip, looking at the ground. “Right… I’ve been thinking about that…” 

“The website’s up, right?” you asked. 

“Yeah, but… I don’t think…” He sighed, shaking his head. 

“We could do deliveries,” you said, cracking a smile. “Get a few bikes.” 

“Get a tandem,” Harry replied. “Go together.” 

You shrugged. “Or I could ride on your shoulders.” 

“Do it on a unicycle. Charge extra for entertainment.” 

“And get a monkey. Make it worth their money.” 

Harry laughed, shaking his head again and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know what we’re going to do.” You sighed, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. “We’ll be alright.” 

He shrugged, putting his hand on top of yours and squeezing back. “Yeah.” 

***

To be completely honest, you were nervous. 

It was a few days later, and the cafe was (temporarily) closed, and Harry had sent you a text. Cafe in ten, it had said, and that was it. You saw Harry on the counter through the glass walls as you walked towards the cafe, hunched over his phone. The sign was flipped to Closed on the door, but it was unlocked, so you walked in.

“Hey,” you said, and he looked up with a grin. 

“Hey!” he said. 

You raised a brow, watching him hop up excitedly and shove his hands in his pockets. 

“Right,” he went on, looking a little more nervous than you felt as he walked over to you and grabbed your hands. “Right,” he said again, “well, I have a question.” You laughed, nervously, and said, “You’re worrying me, H.” 

He bit his lip, holding back a smile. He stepped back, and shoved his hands in his pockets again, and then pulled something out. It was a little black box, and your heart stopped when you realized what it was. 

A ring box. 

And then, he got down on one knee, and your hand flew to your mouth as you stepped backwards. You loved him - of course you did - but you’d barely been dating a few months. You hadn’t even moved in together. It was way too soon for this. 

You began, “Harry -” but he cut you off, saying your name quietly as a smile tugged at his lips. “Will you make me the happiest man on earth…” He opened the box, so slowly, and despite yourself, you were curious about the ring he picked, and then - 

Your heart dropped back down to your chest from your throat. 

It was a key. 

You caught your breath, laughing in surprise as you buried your face in your hands. 

“... and quarantine with me?” 

“You fucking bastard,” you laughed, catching your breath and shaking your head. “I was getting ready to reject you, you fucking moron!” Harry smiled, so smug, and raised a brow. “And? Is it still a rejection?” 

“Of course not,” you breathed, still giggling as he stood up and you wrapped him in a hug. “Of course I’ll quarantine with you, idiot.” Harry laughed, kissing you gently but murmuring, “Somehow the insults don’t seem like a good beginning.” 

“Jesus Christ, we’ll kill each other,” you said with a grin. 

“And live happily ever after as ghosts.” 

“Whoever takes over the cafe will be haunted out of their minds.” 

Harry smirked. “Damn right.” 

***

Harry pouted, leaning into you. “One more.” 

“You said that ten minutes ago.” 

“But it’s so… hard,” Harry whined, kissing you again. 

You smirked. “Hard, huh?” 

“You’re not making this any easier,” Harry mumbled, glaring at your outstretched hand but then groaning and pulling himself up when you just walked away. “You’re a bloody tease,” he complained, following you down the steps. 

“And you’re bloody lazy.” 

“Maybe we should camp out in the cafe,” Harry said. “‘s empty anyway.” 

“Yeah, right,” you replied as you reached your car. “Neither of us could handle that - you look like you helped Frankenstein reanimate his monster with that posture, and sleeping on the ground would not help.” 

Harry scoffed, swatting at your shoulder as you grabbed a box. “If my back’s that bad, maybe I shouldn’t be carrying your entire apartment in a box, hm? Ever think about that?” He grabbed a box anyway, and you laughed, kicking the door open for him with your foot. 

“It’s a sign of how much you love, me, H, and it is not my entire apartment.” 

“Might as well be,” Harry grumbled, huffing exaggeratedly as you reached the top of the stairs. Living directly above the cafe was incredibly convenient, you were learning, in all times except moving. Then the two flights of stairs were just torturous. 

Despite that, you’d made your way through almost all of your belongings - which really wasn’t that much, Harry was just being dramatic - and only had a few more boxes to go. If you’d keep moving, it’d probably take less than an hour, but… 

“We deserve a break,” Harry declared, plopping down on the sofa again. 

“H, we just -” 

“Pretty please?” Harry said, giving you puppy dog eyes. 

“It’s gonna take -” 

“Pleeasse?” 

Finally you sighed, curling up next to him. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you murmured after a second, and he shrugged, kissing your forehead. “I can.” You smiled, looking up at him, and said, “Yeah.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, and he kissed you. You sighed, leaning into him. “Maybe we can get the rest of them tomorrow,” you mumbled, kissing him back. You shifted around to settle on his lap, and you felt him grin against your lips. 

“Your first good idea of the day,” he said happily. 

***

It only took a few days to fall into a routine. 

It wasn’t a very productive routine, but it was a routine nonetheless. 

Mornings were leisurely, spent in bed whispering nonsense under the covers or sharing lazy kisses. Lunches were ordered or made in the kitchen, fumbling over recipes and making a mess. Nights were the most action of the day, which was mostly just popcorn fights and giggly somersault competitions around the floor in front of the TV. 

You probably made it through every single show of interest on Netflix, plus every single romantic comedy on the face of the earth. TV show reactions varied. Sometimes they’d keep you quiet, entranced in the worlds they created, and other times they were too ridiculous and far fetched to be believed and the dialogue would get lost in your laughter. Rom-coms tended to be a mix of gushing tears and snickered comments under your breaths. 

You made competitions out of memorization, attempting to recreate the sword fights in the Princess Bride with chopsticks as you danced around his apartment and singing over each other as you rapped lines from Hamilton. 

So really, you thought, listening to Harry snore with a smile, overall, not too bad. 

***

“Pink walls,” you said, “with green trim and orange polka dots.” 

Harry shook his head. “All green. Plus mustard yellow.” 

“And orange polka dots.” 

“Pink polka dots.” 

“Fine. And blue stripes.” 

Harry snickered, leaning forward off the back wall of the cafe and propping his chin on his fist. “We’ll give them a headache so they’ll get coffee just to stop the pain.” You nodded. “That’s the plan,” you agreed, and Harry raised a brow, turning his head to look at you. “The plan, hm? I thought that was just your atrocious eye for color.” 

You scoffed. “You’re one to talk, mister neon green crocs.” 

“That was one time.” 

“One time too many.” 

Harry sighed, shaking his head. “I’d paint the whole place that same shade of neon green just for something to do.” You bit your lip, then stood up, dusting your hands on your pants. “Let’s… let’s dance.” 

Harry just stared at you.

“C’mon,” you said, a smile growing on your lips as you held out your hand. 

More staring. 

“Harry,” you whined, giving him puppy dog eyes. “Please?” 

“We don’t have music,” he said. 

“We have our phones!” 

“Mine’s dead.” 

You grinned, pulling yours out of your pocket. “Mine’s not. We can slow dance to… uhhh… to Etta James.” Harry groaned, leaning back against the wall. “I have no energy. We should sleep.” 

“It’s eleven.” 

Harry laughed. “Yeah,” he said, “it’s eleven.” 

“C’mon, old man,” you replied, plugging your phone in and starting a song. 

I Wanna Dance with Somebody started playing, and you held out your hands as you sang to him, “Clock strikes… upon the hour… and the sun begins to fade!” Harry laughed again, sliding down to the floor and watching as you pranced around the empty cafe. 

“This is hardly Etta James, love.”

“Well, I’m hardly slow dancing by myself…” You raised a brow, holding out your hand again. “Unless…?” Harry grinned, shaking his head. “Oh, no,” he said, “I’m quite enjoying the show. I’d hate for you to stop on my account…”

He finally got up when the chorus hit, and you squealed in excitement. You pulled him around with you, laughing when he attempted a few moves and then encouraging him when he pouted at your mockery. 

You saw him biting back a smile, and you couldn’t help but kiss him when he spun you around and dipped you low as the song ended. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” Harry said, grinning against your lips. 

You grinned right back, pressing closer. “And what a wonderful way to go.” 

“You know,” Harry began after a beat, “after all that dancing -” 

“- it was one song -” 

“- I don’t know if I can walk back up all those steps.” 

You smirked, leaning into him and sliding kisses against his jawline. “You know… the one place we haven’t quite broken in yet…” Harry laughed. “Hardly sanitary, what you’re implying, you know…” 

“We’re good cleaners,” you murmured. 

His fingers slid your sleeve off your shoulder. “And we do need something to do…” 

“Really doesn’t make any sense to go back upstairs,” you whispered. 

“No sense,” Harry agreed with a grin. “None at all.” 

***

“What if,” Harry mumbled the next morning, waking you up with soft kisses against your cheeks, “I left you… to go be a part… of the next Frankenstein remake...” You giggled, nosing into his shoulder. “Is it really that bad?” He pouted at you miserably. “Worse.”

You grinned, rolling over. “What’s the assistant guy’s name?” you asked. “Igor?” 

“No idea,” Harry sighed. “We gotta watch that movie again.”

“Maybe you’ll find out when you audition for the part.” 

There was a beat of silence, and then Harry groaned as he sat up and cracked his back. 

“You sound like an eighty year old,” you laughed. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much.” 

“At least there’s coffee right there,” you said, sitting up and grabbing Harry’s discarded shirt as he pulled on his boxers. “And food…” Harry yawned, stretching his arms towards the ceiling. “We should learn French,” he said as he opened the mini fridge under the counter. 

“French, huh?” 

“Or Italian.” 

You shrugged. “Or Spanish.” 

“Or Spanish,” Harry agreed, cracking an egg into a bowl. “Or Arabic.” 

“Mandarin.” 

“Gaelic.” 

“Czech.” 

“Russian.” 

“Urdu.” 

Harry smiled, whisking the eggs. “All of ‘em.” 

“We’ve got time.” 

“Wanna help out, lazy bum?” Harry asked, spraying a pan with oil with a teasing smile on his lips. “Or should I do all of this myself?” You grinned, replying, “It’s good practice for your role as an assistant,” but standing up and popping bread in the toaster anyway. 

“Think Frankenstein ate eggs?” 

“Wonder if he had chickens,” you said. 

Harry grimaced. “Probably had a few zombie ones.” 

“Think their eggs taste better or worse?” 

“Oh, better, definitely - they’re just green,” Harry said seriously, and you laughed as you slid the toast out of the toaster and onto a plate “Want some zombie eggs and ham, Sir Sam?” you asked, grabbing utensils. 

“But I don’t like zombie eggs and ham,” Harry said with a pout, coming around to sit next to you at the counter. You raised a brow, crunching on some toast. “What happened to ‘better,’ huh?” 

“Right, well, that’s my opinion,” Harry replied as he scooped some eggs. “I’m sure Sir Sam -” He frowned, pausing. “Wait, ‘sir’? He’s not a… he’s a knight?” You snorted, shaking your head. “I have no idea, babe.”

Harry tsked, giving you a disappointed look. “You should really be more knowledgeable about the classics,” he chastised. You raised a brow. “Classics, huh?” Harry grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely.” 

You smiled despite yourself, nudging his shoulder. “Okay, Dr. Seuss, whatever you say.” 

***

You woke up in front of the TV, yawning as you sat up. 

The end credits of some movie were rolling on screen. It was a film, all in French, that you had, apparently, fallen asleep in front of. Harry was asleep too, curled behind you on the couch. 

The two of you had been going through movies in foreign languages for the past few weeks, and they hadn’t actually been that bad. A few of them were mildly interesting, a few downright boring, and a few, like this one, so tiresome that you’d both fallen asleep about halfway through. 

You started cleaning up, grabbing the empty popcorn bowl from the coffee table and walking into the kitchen to slide it onto the counter. When you walked back in, remote in hand to shut off the TV, Harry was awake and yawning. 

“Riveting film, hm?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Oui, oui,” you agreed, sitting down next to him again. “What time is it?” Harry asked, fumbling for his phone. You glanced at the clock, beating him to it, and said, “Ten. We should do something.” 

“Let’s go to France,” Harry suggested, stretching out on the couch. “Buy some wine.” 

“Or a vineyard.” 

“Or both.” 

You sighed, laying back against him and watching the ceiling fan. “Imagine quarantining in France. Or Italy, or something. On a vineyard.” Harry nodded. “Would certainly be easier to learn another language, yeah?” 

“We’d be drunk half the time,” you mused. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

You smiled, and you turned to look at him in the dim lighting. “Can you imagine? Frolicking around all day in our two hundred acres, half drunk?” Harry smiled back, shifting you slightly so he could sit up next to you. “Sounds like heaven.” 

“I don’t know about the two hundred acres part,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him, “but we could certainly do the half drunk part…” Harry shook his head, grinning against your lips. “Sorry, love, I don’t do anything half arsed.” 

“Oh, my mistake,” you giggled, kissing him once more before standing up. 

“Don’t bother with the glasses,” Harry called once you were in the kitchen. 

“What are we, barbarians?” you laughed, and Harry shook his head. “No, darling, just incredibly lazy. Don’t feel like washing dishes…” You came back in, handing him the bottle of wine, and then looked around, biting your lip. 

Harry took a sip, watching you, and then grumbled, “Oh, no.” You smiled, glancing at him inquisitively. “What’s wrong?” Harry sighed, looking at the wine mournfully. “You have your thinking face on,” he sighed, “which means we’re going to do something, and this bottle will be woefully full by the end of the night.”

“You’re too dramatic for your own good,” you laughed.

Harry looked up, smiling again. “And you’re not nearly dramatic enough.”

“We make a good pair.” 

“That we do,” Harry agreed, standing up as he stretched his arms towards the ceiling. There was a beat of silence, and then Harry raised a brow, nudging your leg. “C’mon, then, out with it, what’s the idea?” 

You grinned at him. “Cookies,” you declared. 

“Cookies?” Harry echoed skeptically. 

“Cookies.” 

“Too far away,” Harry said conclusively, plopping back onto the couch.

“On the contrary!” you exclaimed, pulling him back up. “We’ll make them ourselves,” you said, and then laughed at the expression of horror on Harry’s face. “My dear rose petal,” he said, holding your hand gently in his, “my gorgeous honey pot. We are not making cookies.” 

You scoffed. “Why not?” 

Harry pouted, holding up the wine. “Because relaxation.” 

“How about… relaxation… and cookies?” you asked, taking the wine bottle from him. He gasped indignantly and reached for it, and you giggled, backing up into the kitchen as he followed you. 

“You clever minx,” Harry mumbled once you finally stopped, leaning into you and pressing kisses against your lips with a grin. After a second, you pulled away, smiling when he chased after you. “Cookies?” you asked, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. 

Harry sighed dramatically. “Cookies,” he relented. 

You shouted in victory and started rooting through the cabinets. Your favorite song came on after a moment, and Harry winked at you, coming around to help grab supplies. The two of you shouted along to the lyrics, spilling things as you measured and poured and scooped. 

It was a game of theft once the dough was mixed, stealing pinches while his back was turned and playfully slapping his hand when you caught him doing the same. Thankfully, you still had a decent sized batch when you slid the tray into the oven. 

Then you both stumbled back into the other room, and collapsed onto the couch. “We should have put wine in the cookies,” you murmured into Harry’s shoulder. Harry snickered, and then said, “That’s a grape idea…” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Harry giggled, nudging you. “Grape? Like, great? Because - wine?” 

“Jesus fucking -” 

Harry cut you off with a kiss, and you laughed despite yourself, leaning into him and letting yourself get carried away. His hands drifted, shifting you onto his lap, and your hands slid into his hair, messing with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

It could have been seconds, or maybe hours, before you came up for air, breathless and red cheeked and way too hot and bothered for just a simple make out session. “You’re being a bit mean,” Harry whispered, and you raised a brow. “Am I, now?” 

Harry nodded, feathering kisses down your jawline and behind your ear. “Too many clothes. ‘s quite rude, actually.” You giggled, leaning into him, slipping your hands out of your sweater, and then frowned. 

Was something… burning?

“Shit!” you exclaimed, jumping off of him, and Harry gasped, reaching after you. You pulled yourself together, sprinting to the kitchen, shouting, “The fucking - the cookies!” Harry groaned, walking in after you. 

They were burnt. 

Well and truly burnt. 

Harry came and stood next to you, gazing at the charred lumps of dough with a deep frown. “Fucking cock block,” he muttered, and you looked up at him, and then burst out laughing. 

After a second, he sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “This went well, didn’t it?” he said. “Oh, wonderfully,” you agreed, and you shut the oven door. “Say, Styles,” you said, turning to face him, “ever heard of Postmates?” 

“Why, no, I haven’t!” Harry replied with a grin. “You’ll have to show me!” 

You nodded, pulling out your phone. “I guess I will!” 

***

Between a few more cookie-baking-attempts, even more cookie deliveries, a couple more foreign-language films, twice that amount of romantic comedies, and even one or two morning jogs, quarantine dragged on as quickly as it probably could. Neither of you were sure how long it was going to last, nobody was, but you were constantly reminded of how happy you were Harry had asked you to quarantine with you all those months ago. 

In fact, you were being reminded of it at this very instant, because you’d woken up to an empty bed and a sticky note signed by Harry with only the words, In the cafe, scrawled in green ink. A bit nervous, you got up, and got ready, and then headed down the steps. 

The deja vu was unreal - he was sitting on the counter, hunched over his phone, swinging his legs. “H?” you said softly, and the deja vu continued. He jumped up, hands shoving into his pockets, a stupid grin on his face. “Hey,” he said. 

“Hi,” you said back. “What’s up?” 

“I, er - I wanted to ask you something,” he said, and you grinned, coming around to stand in front of him. “You’re making me nervous,” you replied, and he bit his lip, fiddling with his pocket again. 

“Right,” he said, holding back a smile. “Right, well, quarantine has been fun, yeah?” 

You raised a brow. Slowly, you agreed, “Yeah…” 

“Well, I, erm - I was just thinking…” He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “I was just thinking that I wouldn’t mind quarantining with you my entire life.” You laughed a bit. “I dunno about that,” you joked, and he flushed, shaking his head. 

“I mean - I mean, of course not - obviously, the pandemic, I just - I meant -” 

“Harry,” you interrupted softly. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, smiling again. “Well, I have a question.” 

“So you keep saying.” 

He laughed, finally pulling his hand out of his pocket. But somehow, you almost weren’t surprised when it was a ring box. You grinned, glancing at it and then back at Harry but keeping quiet as he knelt down on one knee. 

“You know,” he said, and all you could think was how much he was dragging this out, “they say you’re supposed to get down on one knee because of some old Norse tradition. Apparently, getting married is like taking an arrow to the knee and, erm - and, well, you know, falling onto one knee...” He dropped down to both knees, and you raised an eyebrow. “... but I’m getting down on both, because I’ve fallen… completely… for you.” 

Before you could roll your eyes, he opened the box. 

And this time, there was a ring inside. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed. 

“Well?” 

“I thought - I don’t - this is like - but I thought -” 

Harry laughed, leaning forward. “Christ, the suspense is killing me, woman!” 

“Yes!” you gasped, letting him slide the ring onto your finger. “Shit, Harry, yes! Yes, of course!” He stood up, kissing you deeply, and you laughed against his lips. “Jesus, I thought… I don’t know what I thought - I just -” 

Harry cut you off with a grin. “Shush,” he murmured. 

You giggled, kissing him again, and then pulled back, letting your forehead rest against his. “Harry?” you said softly. He smiled, stealing one more kiss, and then said, “Yeah?” You grinned. “That Norse mythology thing isn’t true,” you whispered. 

“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned, laughing as he stepped away and shook his head. 

“Hey,” you said, pulling his back. “Hey, hey…” 

He shook his head again, still grinning. “Yeah?” 

“I love you,” you said. 

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes and mocking nonchalance. He nudged your shoulder, kissed you, smiled. “I mean… I guess I love you, too… Even if the legend isn’t true… I don’t know if I’ve fallen completely for you, though…” 

“Oh, shut up!” 

Harry smiled, and kissed you. “If you insist.”

***

and there you have it!!! really hope you enjoyed! and if you did, a reblog or some feedback would be very much appreciated. thanks for reading! 

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[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

forever i will live for you

Right now, though? Yeah, Sokka wasn’t sure either of them would make great dance partners, what with Aang bleeding out from a knife wound to his stomach while Sokka desperately tried to stem the flow, blue fabric in his hands turning violet.

(Written for Day 3 of Aang Rarepair Week: Wounds/Wounded, hosted by @aangtheestallion. Pairing: Sokka/Aang. Read here on AO3, or continue reading below.)

Sokka wasn’t much of a dancer. But Aang was, therefore Sokka did his best to participate, if only to see Aang smile. At any and every party they attended, whatever events the Avatar’s presence was mandated at and Sokka was his plus one, he would allow Aang to pull him into at least one dance. Sometimes more, but never less. Toph often teased him about the compromise, but hey—it worked for them.

And come hell or high water, Sokka always gave Aang that one dance. He’d done so with blisters on his feet, a broken arm, a sprained ankle, and once with a concussion. Although Aang had stopped that last dance immediately when Sokka’s vision began to spin faster than they were.

Of course, Aang had danced through pain numerous times, too. Being lighter on his feet, Sokka often didn’t notice until after the fact, which always earned Aang extensive scolding. Not that Aang ever learned his lesson. But at the end of the day, Sokka gave their dance his all and Aang responded in turn, guaranteeing that one dance together was the best anyone had of the night.

Right now, though? Yeah, Sokka wasn’t sure either of them would make great dance partners, what with Aang bleeding out from a knife wound to his stomach while Sokka desperately tried to stem the flow. The blue fabric in his hands turned violet as he pressed it against the wound, soaking up too much blood too damn fast—

“The one party Katara couldn’t make it to, huh?” Aang croaked. Sokka could barely hear him above the frenzied cries of the crowd fleeing around them. Apparently an attempted assassination was too much for ordinary people to handle.

“Now’s not the time to think in retrospect,” Sokka muttered, abandoning the blood-soaked cloth for another wide strip of fabric he’d torn from his robes. Teo was chasing down an Earth Kingdom healer—no waterbender, but it wasn’t like they could be picky—as Sokka worked, while Mai and Ty Lee were ‘taking care of’ the would-be assassin.

Would-be. Because Aang was not dying tonight.

It had all happened so quickly, which Sokka kicked himself for even silently admitting to. Impractical, unhelpful, useless.

He, Teo, and Aang had helped the town over the course of the week with some mechanical and political issues. As thanks, they’d been offered a chance to attend the community-wide dinner. Aang was never one to turn down hospitality—nor Sokka food—and so the three had accepted the invitation in seconds. Mai and Ty Lee had tagged along at Zuko’s request to assist in the work efforts, hence their inclusion, too. But apparently the dinner being such a local, isolated event had made it the perfect target.

They’d stood up to dance, he and Aang. The one dance Sokka promised him for every event. Maybe that was the issue—they were predictable. Had a routine. Because when Aang had offered Sokka his hand and thrown him that charming grin, a grin that still made Sokka’s heart flutter after all these years, they’d both been—Sokka had been—too distracted to notice a man burst out of the crowd and twist a blade into and out of Aang’s stomach.

Aang had doubled over, orange robes stained scarlet, and everything was a blur after that.

Sokka tightened the fabric around Aang’s midsection before putting pressure back over the wound, knowing his partner couldn’t afford to lose any more blood.

“Where—Where are the others?” Aang hissed in pain as he tried to sit himself up, Sokka promptly freeing one hand to grab his shoulder and hold him still. “Teo? Mai and Ty Lee?”

“They are otherwise entertained,” Sokka replied, trying to prevent fear from leaking into his tone in the form of frustration. “Just—don’t move, Aang. This wound could start bleeding again if you shift an inch too much.”

The truth was that the wound had never really stopped bleeding, the spill of crimson only slowed, but Sokka had a feeling Aang knew that without needing to be told. The Avatar had always been too perceptive for his own good.

“How bad is it?” Aang whispered. Sweat beaded his forehead.

Sokka’s heart clenched in his chest. “Well,” he said, swallowing hard, “it could definitely be better.”

Aang laughed, somehow, despite the clear pain he was in. “Gee, thanks. I’d never have guessed.”

Sokka glanced around them as the crowd was at last thinning, desperately searching for a sign, any sign, of Teo returning with the local healer. There just wasn’t enough he could do on his own without any medical equipment—

“Was anyone else hurt?” Aang asked. His breathing had started to grow ragged in a matter of seconds, and Sokka had to blink away hot, panicked tears.

“Uh—no, no I don’t think so. Mai disarmed the guy right away and—and last and I saw she and Ty Lee were working to capture and restrain him when he—when he, ah, tried to disappear into the crowd.”

Aang only nodded in response, and fuck, Sokka knew it was a bad sign if Aang couldn’t continue conversation. Rambling was all but his only hobby.

“You can’t go dying on me, Aang,” Sokka whispered, the hot blood on his hands burning through his skin like acid. “That bastard interrupted our dance, which means you still owe me one. You can’t die until we have that dance. Understand?”

Aang gave him a tired grin, one that Sokka had never been able to stop himself from returning, even when his boyfriend was losing an ungodly amount of blood, apparently. “Yeah. I’d planned to introduce a new step for us tonight.”

“And you can show me that step as soon as you are healed,” Sokka promised. “So just—just hang on until then, okay?”

Aang’s eyes were starting to glaze over as he nodded, and Sokka again looked around desperately for any sign of Teo. Hell, he’d even take Ty Lee’s assistance at this point—maybe there was some kind of chi-blocking method she could use to stop excess blood flow?

“Katara’s gonna be on her way here before you know it,” Sokka lied when Aang attempted to move, his partner grimacing at the pain. “And she’ll be as pissed as I am that you went and let yourself get stabbed like this.”

A weak laugh escaped Aang’s lips. The sound made Sokka’s chest ache even as the smallest of smiles tugged at his lips. He ignored the hurt. For now, he just needed to keep Aang awake. Alive.

“Hey, Sokka,” Aang mumbled after a pause.

Sokka continued searching the crowd for a glimpse of Teo, still pressing blue—now purple—fabric against Aang’s wound. “Yeah?” Maybe he was—there! Teo was tearing towards the two of them, a dark-skinned woman with a stuffed satchel running at his side. “Aang, Teo’s bringing a healer—”

“We should get married.”

Sokka choked on his words, snapping his head around to stare at Aang with wide eyes. “We—what?”

A grin tugged at Aang’s lips. Weak, wavering, but present nonetheless. “I want to marry you. And I want you to”—he coughed, and Sokka’s breath hitched—“I want you to know that I want to marry you.”

In case I don’t make it went unspoken, but Sokka heard the words all the same. He didn’t dwell on them, refusing to acknowledge the possibility that Aang wouldn’t pull through.

“You know I’m a romantic at heart, Aang,” Sokka tried to joke. Ease the tension. “I can’t say yes without candlelight and music and rose petals—”

“Sokka.”

Sokka closed his eyes to hold back tears, silently begging for Teo and the healer to move faster. “I won’t—”

“Sokka, please.” Aang’s voice was growing faint. “Look at me.”

And Sokka did, because he’d never been able to say no to Aang. “Of course I want to marry you, idiot,” he whispered, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Aang smiled at him, elated despite his pain, and in any other scenario Sokka would have sealed the proposal with a heated kiss. But now—

“That dance I owe you?” Aang murmured. He placed a hand on one of Sokka’s forearms, squeezing it. “It’ll be at our wedding. Does that—” He choked, breaking into a coughing fit.

“Shh,” Sokka reassured him, almost laughing and crying as any shred of decorum had long been forgotten. “That sounds perfect, Aang. So you’d better stay alive to make it happen, okay?”

The sound of wheels skidding to a stop informed Sokka that Teo had arrived, knowledge reinforced by the healer dropping to the ground beside him.

Aang gave Sokka a tired but overjoyed smile. “I can’t die now.” His shoulders slumped. “I’d… I’d miss our wedding.” Aang’s eyelids fluttered shut, Teo pulled Sokka out the way, and the healer’s hands were stained with blood.

“He’ll make it,” Teo whispered, and Sokka broke down in sobs.

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

Bad timing part.2 | tom holland x fem!reader

part.1

Summary: Tom stake to his words. In fact, since the viagra incident, your life was in a constant loop of teasing and frustration. But the torture ended when the boy finally asked you to marry him. Joy and happiness overwhelmed you, but you couldn’t help asking yourself a single question: what will happen during your honeymoon?

Warnings: language, sexual teasing/tension, SMUT including romantic first time sex fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) and sooo much more, oh and fluff too obviously!

Word Count: 5228

A/N: you cheeky beauts 😏... so many of you asked for a part2 whaaaat!! I think I’ve left you guys a bit frustrated, am I right? 😜 so I tried to please everyone bc you all gave me ideas and stuff, so it’s a mix of everything I guess? 👀 as originally requested by @photoshopart15 but also as a general demand, here it is! hope you will enjoy it as much as the first one, you cheeky beasts 😉✨ did I enjoy writing it too much? judging by the word count... HECK YES 🙈

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Tom is a kind and well-mannered man, always putting the others before himself. You knew that since day one. And when he had a precise idea in mind, boy does he keeps his words until he goes fully through it.

After the viagra incident Tom was teasing you any time he had the chance, to the point you would have to lock yourself into a room or just go out by yourself to calm down. You have never been so fuzzy, your whole face starting to keep the blushing aspect. Any occasion was an excuse to push you at your limits. And he loved it. But you kind of got used to it by the time and well, and learnt to live with it.

Then came the day Tom proposed to you. 

And later came the weeding.

"I do."

You remember saying these two special words during the ceremony. Exchanging vows with your loved one surrounded by the people who are precious to you both is just how you imagined that day. Beautiful yet intimate, with little extravaganza touches from Tom. 

The best day of your life.

The sun begins to set little by little, letting behind it an orange-reddish sky before it disappears below the horizon. Some rays still light the bedroom you actually are. The peaceful roll of the waves running aground the shore livens up the surrounding, sometimes followed by tropical birds’ cries. Calm. Total serenity. And relaxing, just what you needed.

For your honeymoon, Tom booked a villa on stilts in the Maldives for three weeks. You arrived a few hours ago, slightly bitten up by the jet lag but more than happy to be finally there. No one around but you and the beach of the island at five minutes by boat. You are totally living the dream.

As the weather has nothing to do with London at the moment, you just wear a simple top and some sport shorts. Your hair put into a messy bun, you lay on your stomach on the king size bed that is at the perfect place to watch the sunset. Right in front of it, the patio door widely open to this magnificent scenery and the last ray warming up your exposed skin. Phone in hands, you scroll through it as Harry already sent you the first pictures he took of the wedding.

You couldn’t suppress the smile on your face. Both you and Tom had bright smiles on the photographs, sometimes with teary eyes due to emotion but still radiating happiness and love for each other. 

A new chapter of your life just started and you can’t wait to see where it will take you with the man you love.

Speak of the devil, you notice now that the running water coming from the bathroom stops. Just like the humming from inside. Another two minutes later, the wooden door opens to reveal your newly husband freshly exiting the bathroom, only wearing a boxer tight around everything his hips and hair still wet. And to think that he can look hot with and without clothes... and that he is now officially yours.

You hear his steps on the creaking parquet as he approaches your shared bed and look over your shoulder. Then the bed dips from the weight of his body next to you.

"Looks like Harry did a great job with the pictures, right?"

Tom’s hot breath is next to your ear as he speaks, sending you chills over your body. When you turn slightly your head towards him, his face is close to yours that you can feel the heat coming from him. His eyes look lovingly at the picture you stopped on: both of you sharing a kiss after your vows.

“The pictures are beautiful, indeed” you reply in a whisper, eyes back on your phone.

You feel him leave a kiss on top of your exposed shoulder, his lips warm from his previous shower. He then put his chin on the nap of your neck, getting closer as if searching for more closeness, his still wet torso against half your back.

“I want to frame that one when we go back home” Tom adds while putting one hand over yours which holds the phone.

Your heart is thumping from many emotions rushing through your mind and body. You sure feel blessed to be now married to this young man you knew since your young age, not to forget how attracted you are to each other. Yet the incident of “that day” still remains fresh in the back of your head. 

But you were a newly married couple now so why would you be frighten or self-conscious about... what has to come? That is right, you have no reason to be scared. Not at all.

You lock your phone and let it fall on the soft sheets. Your hands still linked, you now intertwine your fingers with his as you kiss his cheek then repeat the action a few times, a bit slower and lips never leaving his skin. Tom slightly pulls away turning his head to look at your face, admiring the gleam in your eyes that are like an open book to him. 

In a light motion Tom pushes your upper body to make you turn on your back. After biting his lips to hide a smirk, he slides closer to you and both of you roll on the bed followed by giggles. Now wrapping his strong arms around your frame, Tom hugs you tightly against his chest.

“My beautiful wife...” he mumbled, pressing the tip of his nose into the tresses of your hair. “... Mrs. Holland.”

The last statement makes you heart thump heavily, cheeks starting to redden. 

“I love you, Tom, so much” you whisper, answering the unspoken way his heart relayed just how much he loves you as well. 

A giggle escapes your lips when he huffs a hot breath against the rim of your ear squeezing you even tighter in his arms before finally relaxing into a soft cuddle. Sliding one of your arms around his back, you snuggle into his frame trying to be as close to his body as possible so he can be enveloped by your warmth and body heat.

Then Tom shifts just a bit placing his hand on your cheek, getting you to tilt your head up where he admires the shade and gleam of your beautiful eyes before pulling you to meet his lips. Instantly your body melts under the gentle and warm sway of his kiss, that feels soft and sweet like the perfect flavour of ice cream. 

The moment Tom pulls away your eyes flutter hazily, telling him you want another with the soft way you whisper his name. 

"Someone’s needy..." 

Not trying to hide his smirk anymore, the man is more than happy to give you all the kisses you could ever want as he leans down again meeting your lips in the middle. One more kiss turns into many, as one of your hands glide into his wild brown hair. Your eyes soften, parting your lips when his tongue slides over your top lip wanting to make the kisses more steamy.

The heated sway of his slick muscle laps around your own slowly and sensually coating it with his saliva, letting you become enthralled and overwhelmed so much by his passion that a small murmur of a moan hazes into his lips.

"Mmh, I can never get enough of the way you taste" Tom mutters the moment he pulls away licking his lips, noting the thin trail of saliva connecting you together.

He then trails the edge of his lips down your neck while placing soft enticing feather-like kisses.

“What do you say about me marking this gorgeous body of yours?” he rasps, letting the heat of his breath haze against your skin and picks a soft patch to suck on. 

It takes you a moment to realise he is indeed leaving you a hickey. Such a mark would not be the first one he has given you, but you always remind him to not make them too big and somewhere easy to hide. But today, you don’t want to impose him any restriction. 

And that is when you feel some kind of pressure... between your legs. More precisely against your core. You let out a high pitch squeal when the steady pressure evolves into back and forth moves. You can’t stop a few moans escaping from your mouth at the feeling, Tom’s hips in total rythme with his sucking.

Your body arches more into his, letting him have complete access to your neck. Tom slides his tongue up and down, sucking and swirling his muscle till a deep purple love bite is forming against your skin, right on the side of your collarbone. Only then does he pull away to admire his handy work.

A tingle slides through your body as he uses a few of his fingers to caress over your love bruise, as if he could feel how warm and pulsating your skin and heart are. Short-winded and almost sweating, your eyes still blurry with what just happened, and definitely wet down there. A total reminder of the “incident”.

Then you see it. His huge deadly smirk, staring at you so deep as he perfectly knows what he is doing to you. 

And without a word Tom stands up from over you and the bed, passing his finger through his now dry curls as he starts walking towards his luggage on the other side of the room.

“Alright, a boat’s gonna take us to the restaurant of the island for 7pm so let’s get ready.”

And the man just leaves you still on the bed to go change into the bathroom. You roll onto your side, breath still short while squeezing your thighs together to find some relieve.

That. Fucking. Bastard.

* * * * 

Fortunately, the delicious food and tasty cocktails appeased your infuriated more like frustrated state from earlier. You were not THAT mad at Tom... but still. Since you left the villa to have dinner on the beach, you never felt so tensed. You tried your best to not show your husband bad attitude because first, he doesn’t deserve any of it and two... There is no other reason, actually. 

You racked your brains all evening. You knew you were ready, and that is why you mostly welcomed Tom into your shared steamy embrace. And it all stopped abruptly like he did every times since the viagra incident. But now, you were married so why does he keep playing that hell of a teasing game? 

So you kept your composure as much as you could, even when Tom tried to be touchy-feely. Each time both your skins made contact, it surprised you to the point Tom started wondering if you were alright. But you still managed to conceal your weird behaviour to him.

But he still noticed something was on.

* * * *

You are finally back to the villa. Tom gentlemanly helps you to get out of the little boat, not without nearly falling into the sea as doing so. At least, his usual goofy self always brings a smile on your face. Tom opens the door to let you in first, and you thank him as you do.

Entering the house you stop when you notice the inside plunged into complete darkness, but with candles lighten up here and there. In the air flutters a calming perfume of tropical flower, just enough to mix with the salty perfume of the sea. And at your feet are spread flowers petals as if creating a path to lead you somewhere.

“You like it?” Tom whispers in you ears, giving you the chills.

“T-That’s really pretty, but why-”

“Shh, you will see, princess.”

Before you can finish your sentence, Tom’s hands gently press onto your hips and he slowly pushes you to make you walk. As he walks you through the dark villa - and banging into some furnitures on the way which makes you laugh again, you now are able to guess where he takes you. 

Tom then stops you in front of the familiar wooden door to open it, and before your eyes is a nicely arranged the big bathroom with the same lighted candles around the bathtub already filled up with water and petals. But what takes your breath away may for sure be the beautiful view from the patio window on which the bathtub is placed against. You can still hear and see the sea waves in the darkness of the night, but in the distance you can make out some lights coming from the next door island. There are actually curtains on both sides of the window, slightly closed to keep some intimacy but still a bit see-through.

A bright blush decorates your cheeks at all the display as suddenly tones of intimate thoughts crosse your mind. 

“As cliché as it sounds, I always wanted to take a bath together. And now that we are married...” Tom interrupts himself to slide his arms around your hips, as you take a breath and lean back against his chest. 

“Well now that we are married, I wanted to try it with you. Do you want too?” He murmures with his suave voice, placing a soft kiss against your slender neck as you nod your head. 

“Y-You also brought some champagne, as I see” you notice, still overwhelmed in the warm embrace of your lover. 

The bottle in an ice bucket and two flutes glasses are nicely presented on a wooden coffee table next to the bath. Tom nods against your cheek, leaving another kiss there. With a pounding heart you nuzzle your face against his, feeling his smooth face on your lips and his natural scent filling your nostrils. 

"Can I undress you? Or we can undress each other? Piece... by... piece..." Tom places a kiss after each word, making you feel all warm and tingly as he then trails his hands down your hips and massages your thighs under the summer dress you decided to wear tonight.

"Ah... I like the sound of that. Can I go first, please?" you shyly ask, looking at him through your long eyelashes.

After moving you to the center of the bathroom, Tom turns your body around to face him and agrees to your demand. He is unsurprised when you start unbuttoning his stripped white and lavender shirt. Letting it fall at his feet, he takes his cue and bends down to his knees, running his hands up and down both your legs up under your dress. 

You can't take your eyes off his sleek and sculptured chest muscles. Your fingers wander along his neck to then stop on his broad shoulders. 

Smirking at your focused eyes Tom takes the edge of your dress to pull it up your hips, your thighs finally at his mercy. As he purposefully has a gander at your black coloured panties, he gives both your thighs a nice warm kiss and then stands up while tugging your dress upend off your entire body.

A pant full of desire escapes your lips so Tom takes a little initiative and grabs your hand to place it on the front of his darted white pants, encouraging you to unbutton and slide the zipper down. Which you do after a few seconds of looking into his lustful brown eyes, pushing at the waistband before the material gladly slips down his long legs and pools around his ankles.

He kicks his pants away before encouraging you to approach him closer. But you stop him and with trembling hands, you slowly unclasp your bra, not daring to look directly at Tom as your cheeks keep flushing.

His tongue licks his bottom lip admiring the outline of your breasts coming into view. Tom thought you would be a little reluctant to completely undress in front of each other, even if he has seen your gorgeous curves before but you surprise him by taking the first step yourself.

With blushy cheeks, you still hide your almost exposed tits with an arm. Tom can't help himself when he steps up to your body and presses your bare chests together, meeting you in the middle for a kiss. The feeling of your soft breasts is a complete and utter turn on for him, as his hands began to gently explore your body a little by caressing around your hips and down your back before dipping one into the back of your panties to give your bottom a nice squeeze.

A moan of his name hazes into his mouth as you wrap both your hands around his rippling back muscles, while you can feel him greedily wanting to pull down your last remaining article of clothing. 

But you feel he doesn’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to. Or maybe... will Tom actually interrupt everything like before dinner? That would be even worse, just by analysing the current situation you are in. Despite being a little jittery with tones of questions in mind, your own hands slide down his hips and push at his boxers, blushing at the way they easily slide down his legs lower on his v-line.

"Adventurous, little missy?” Tom teasingly rasps when you can't help but fully eye his now well endowed manhood for the first time. 

It is not surprising that you stutter out an answer and tilt your face away, but it gives him a moment to caress down your stomach and grip the waistband of your panties and lower them leaving you both equally naked.

Your hands shake with embarrassment but since Tom is not hiding himself, you try to adapt some of his courage and allow the man you love to have an unhindered view of your body that he has desired for so long. And he takes full advantage of bouncing his eyes up and down with zero shame.

"Dammit baby, have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?" he groans softly in defeat, nestling his face in your neck.

A smile slides up your lips as you whisper you feel the exact same way, causing him to face you again and cup both of your cheeks for a nice warm kiss. Once you part, he leads the way into the tub which is delightfully warm enough and encourages you to sit between his legs. 

At first you are still a bit shy about that but don't really have a choice as you both slide down and sit in the water. Your heartbeat is thundering, which doesn’t help the fact you can properly feel the shape of his cock against the bottom of your ass. It is way too late to shy away now. Tom is indeed hard, clearly turned on from having his naked wife in his arms for the first time. Leaning forward, he gives the nape of your neck a warm and sensual kiss while both of his hands caress up and down your now soaked legs.

"Mhm, Tom... Y-you can touch me..." you murmur to him leaning back and allowing him more access to your neck, which he takes advantage of with many more kisses and several gentle nibbles, enjoying your flavour.

"Where would you like me to touch you, gorgeous?"

Taking a breath, your hands slide under the water and grab both his, placing them against your breasts. Your matching golden rings make contact and instantly, Tom starts slowly and sensually groping them, earning some very satisfying skin tingling moans of his name from your perfectly pink lips.

"You make my mind so hazy, Tom... All the damn time" you whisper between light moans, his large hands making wonders.

Deciding to explore another part of your body, his fingers pet down your stomach and edge your legs further apart before gliding down the womanly outline of your slit. 

"A-ah, Tom...!" you whimper out of surprise, but his touch is slow and sensual and it assures you he just wants to make you feel good.

When your body starts to relax, Tom continues his soft pleasuring of your lower lips, while still squeezing one of your breasts and kissing both your neck and shoulder several times. The moment he curls one digit between your warm folds, your entire body spasms with waves of foreign pleasure.

You begin panting, as if showcasing how unprepared you were for this sensation. But he calms you down using his free hand to push your cheek to meet his lips while he works a slow rhythm of back and forth. Quickly, the curl and sway of his slender digit starts to feel utterly amazing so he slowly adds a second one, making you moan of pleasure.

 “O-oh, Tom! I-It feels so good!”

Tom grins as he nips at your neck to feel the vibrations of your mewls of delight, while he notes the subtle difference between the sticky sensation starting to warm his fingers and the water around. However after pleasuring you for awhile he pulls away and whispers into the rim of your ear, his desires to continue this in bed.

“(Y/n), I want you so fucking bad and I want to thoroughly enjoy you” Tom growls as he nibbles your lobe between his teeth, slightly tugging it.

It sounds almost desperate and what can you say? You were as much desperate as he is right now, so you have no intention of denying him after coming this far. You prove your husband how deeply in love you are with him by turning in his lap, wrapping both hands around his neck and deeply kissing him.

Using his amazing upper body strength to pick you up bridal style, he lets the water thoroughly drip from both your bodies before taking careful steps out of the tub. Thankfully, there is a rug on the floor so he doesn't slip or slide as he rests your butt down against the sink. 

You smile at him with soft pink cheeks as he tries to dry you off a bit. But it is pretty much a lost cause since Tom just admires your body for the most part. He uses another towel to dry himself off a little before being very direct with the way he pushes apart your knees and picks you back up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his back and making you blush brightly as your hands cling to his broad shoulders.

The next thing you know, your back is laying against the soft mattress where he instantly starts some very sensual kisses. Starting with your lips and working down to your neck, eventually claiming one of your soft nipples. 

"Mhm Tom, I love your kisses so much" you practically purr to him, unable to do much but run your hands through his brown locks and down just a bit of his smooth back muscles. Honestly, you are kind of grateful for his hungry desire to take the lead, as the way he is sucking and licking between both of your breasts just feels sensational.

His coffee orbs glance up as he lets go of one of your tits with a juicy pop and notes your closed eyes and relaxed features, finding it a nice time to go further south. He places soft kisses down your bellybutton, which let you know where he is going but you assure yourself you are okay as long as it is him.

With a lift of your leg, his eyes graze over the intimate pink outline of your womanhood, but he doesn't go towards your sex right away. His lips kiss softy at your inner thigh, bringing tingles up your spine as you find his slowness and need to appreciate all your body romantic and endearing.

"Your skin is so damn soft... And your smell is driving me crazy" Tom growls again, gliding his tongue up as he eases apart your knees until the tip of his wet muscle laps over the middle of your slit before instantaneously turning it into the most intimate French kiss you could ever imagine.

"O-oh! K-kissing me right there... i-is strange...!" you shyly murmur, gripping both of your hands against the sheets. But soon all you can think of is the enthralling sensation of his tongue as he thoroughly slides between your folds and thrusts back and forth, turning you into a moaning and mewling mess.

One of your hands finds its way into the back of his hair, where you give a few tugs in the throws of your pleasure. In turn both of his hand glide up your hips to keep you in place, while he continued to eat you out like one of the best meals he ever had in ages.

At this point, you are not sure if you are being loud or too quiet anymore, but the answer doesn’t really matter as the passionate sway of his tongue is talented enough to have the oddest sensation warming the pit of your stomach. But you don’t have the time to ask him because you are experiencing your very first orgasm.

"H-hah, fuck... You taste amazing, baby" Tom husks as he pulls back to lick the slick sweet essence of your arousal from his lips. He then wipes off the bottom of his chin before rising above your body to caress one of his hands against your cheek and give you a hasty kiss that lets you taste yourself.

“Oh Tom, I love you so much" you mutter during his flavourful kisses when suddenly, you can clearly feel the tip of his cock poking against your inner thigh.

"I love you too, so much” Tom kisses your lips a last time. “Ready to enjoy the ride, my beautiful wife?”

And as words are about to leave your mouth, Tom moves his face closer to you ear.

“And no need for me to take any blue pill, right?”

He for sure means it to sound like a tease. At a time like that. Well, it wouldn’t be Tom if he didn't remind you of the day you non-naturally made him excited because he was being such a brat. And remembering it right now is even worse, judging by the redness of your cheeks.

“S-Stop with that- aah!”

Yet again he does’t let you speak fully as his hips slide up to press the tip of his cock at your entrance. Griping both hands against your own, he fills you to the brim with his girth in a slow but smooth thrust.

"Ah-mhm... Ooh, Tom" you mumble of slight discomfort but you quickly assure your husband it doesn’t specially hurt too much, just feels sensational and unbearably tight at the same time. 

He kisses your neck and lets you know you could claw or squeeze him as necessary if you feel any pain, which has you smiling and returning a peck to his cheek and another to his neck nuzzling him like a kitten.

"You can move Tommy, I'm okay..." you whisper into his ear, pulling back to meet his eyes where he most certainly doesn’t need to be told twice as hearing you use that particular nickname makes his stomach flip.

So he eases his hips backwards only to slap forward hard enough for you to toss your head and yelp out his name in a moan. 

“Ah! Tommy!”

You feel him rock the most dizzying rhythm into your body that it has you squeezing his shoulders and moaning his name on harmonious repeat. That was the sexiest tune he has heard in his entire life. The sound of your voice and the pleasured look in your eyes feeding his desire all the more, as he thrusts his hips back and forth and then growls like an animal about how tight you are squeezing him.

"S-shit, I can feel how wet you are baby... Practically dripping all over my cock" he rasps while biting warmly at the side of your neck, to give you a mixture of possessive teeth marks and bright purple hickey.

You can’t even muster a reply as he picks up your legs and slides his warm strong hands under your ass to ensure he could pick up his pace to fuck you faster and deeper. Which you doesn’t seem to mind because your hand squeeze his sweaty back, and get off on both the pleasure and the sweet smell coming from his body.

He smirks before sharply claiming your lips, thrashing his hips back and forth and sloshing your juices that lets you know he wasn’t lying before when he said you were wet. That along with the accompanying smell of raunchy sex has your mind become so overly dizzy and hazy that you can barely concentrate.

His hips become sloppy with his desperation and you completely understand that feeling as you cling to him, even dragging a few of your nails down his back not really out of any pain but more so the intense sensation tightening in the pit of your stomach. With a few more hard and deep thrusts that rock both your bodies in perfect unison, Tom presses deeply into your tight pulsating folds allowing you both to achieve release simultaneously.

One hell of scream leaps from your vocal chords as the most vision blurring orgasm of the night sways through your system. Slowly Tom eases your bottom back down to the mattress since he has sort of propped up your lower body for those few aggressive minutes. 

When coming back to his senses, Tom pulls out of your core causing you to hiss from the loss of being so full. He pants almost as heavily as you and after proudly and hungrily admiring both your mixed juices coming out from your core, the man slides down tiredly next to your side.

"How... do you feel, gorgeous?" he huffs, taking a few deep breaths as lazily bringing an arm around your frame to keep you close to his sweaty frame.

"I... f-feel a bit tired... but also good, really good..." you smile to him, cuddling closer and placing a kiss against the middle of his chest before snuggling your cheek against his soft and warm skin. 

He sighs in relief, not voicing how he thought he was being a bit rougher than he meant to be, but instead runs one of his hands down the middle of your back in a soft soothing petting motion.

“Damn, the champagne!” Tom suddenly shouts out of nowhere, startling you a bit.

Tom reluctantly detaches from you, not without a sloppy kiss and stil butt naked, he runs back into the bathroom and comes back with the bottle in one hand and the flutes on the other. You also notice a small towel hanging on his shoulder, probably to clean you both from your previous activity.

You giggle at him, smiling warmly letting the thumping of his heart lull you as you finally share a glass of champagne, still naked and bodies tangled together and into the soft sheets. Both of you hold each other tightly, letting each other’s heat warm your bodies and just keep chatting until your eyelids feel too heavy  to stay open.

Life sure feels great.

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[cloveroctobers]

ANNA-JULIA “AJ” (JONES) JARLETT

IG bio/info: @/annajj9x_ | 20.1k followers| Athlete | hey peeps can you stop asking me to throw it back cuz the answer will always be no! K thx take it easy 🏳️‍🌈🌻🏒🐶

21 years old

From bath, England

Hockey player as her profession for the past three years

Her position is defense

Their team name is “rowdy alphas”...yeah some team names just didn’t make sense or they’re cringe for no reason at all

Was raised by her mom,(her mom was a teen mom & had her at 17) maternal grandmother, and her paternal aunt (dad’s younger sister, who’s more like a big sister to her at 28)

They’ve made her into the person she is, literally

Her grandmother has a bed and breakfast that they all live in

the house is Victorian style—almost as if they walked right out of charmed! Instead of a big pink house, think yellow AND purple. It was hideous but homey and charming on the inside

growing up in a house with multiple temporary strangers wasn’t odd to aj at all, in fact it felt like the norm. There was always someone around to socialize with so that was quite nice

Her father was a pro baseball player & passed away due to a automobile accident

she has his smile & freckles

aj was also involved in the accident at the age of 6 & miraculously survived with intense injuries

Has scars as a reminder

used to have night terrors because of the accident...it took awhile—years!!! for them to subside

they’re all vague memories now (but the pain is something she’ll always remember) but she preferred it that way

she’s named “Anna” after her mother’s old best friend/roommate and was supposed to be aj’s god mother but she went missing during their uni years

the name“Julia” came from her paternal grandmother who she gets her wide doe eyes from

her athleticism definitely came from her dad

Her mother luckily liked to document things so there’s a bunch of home videos of her dad in them & pictures/scrapbooks that her mom has for safe keeping

She’s more of a klutz, tiny, and wears huge prescription glasses

extremely close to the three most important ladies in her life, so she’s always been able to be open with them about anything!

when she first expressed her interest in liking both genders around 17-18 her paternal aunt was all smirks, “i knew Britney Spears was so your type, yeah?”

more like shakira but Brit was just as pretty

her mother was a “cry baby” so ofc she burst out into tears squeezing aj’s limbs and peppering her face with kisses. She didn’t view her child as anything different... as she shouldn’t & was glad that her daughter trusted them with this significant moment in her life and wanted to be as supportive as she could

got books, watched Ted talks and everything but knew she could come to the source even tho aj was still figuring it out herself

her grandma dipped her head at the new info sitting at the round kitchen table, “been there. had a few broads in my life after and during my marriage with your no good grandad. Thank goodness the bastard died before you even got to meet ‘em.” “Mum!”

what felt like the biggest weight on her chest was lifted. She knew they’d understand but a part of her had a little bit of doubt, she’s heard so many horror stories where those like her didn’t have the support she has and that made her extremely sad to think about

i see her as a person that has/had many friends in secondary. She’s always open to chat and her being on a few sports teams helped her out in her case

very competitive in anything that she does & will guarantee that she’ll beat you. (“ You wanna race to the car from here?”wins. “Who ever cleans the most dishes the fastest gets the last slice of pie.”) majority of the time she’s right but if she loses?? oh don’t let her lose to you, it’s a pity party for the rest of the time ur in her space. Such a sore loser omg

stays active, always working out + has a gym membership and makes sure she goes at least five times a week

she’s very strong, loves leg day & working on her core

she’s about 5’10

loves wearing “gf jeans” since they’re super comfy but doesn’t mind skinny Jeans with rips in the knees every now and then

trainers and chucks are her go-to sneakers

has no issue shopping in the men’s section ‘cause who’s gonna stop her? Nobody that’s who

owner of over a 100 graphic tees + vertical stripped shirts are also her favs, SWEATPANTS/joggers?! How many does she have? A lot. Snapbacks? Plenty. Will she wear them backwards? Obviously.

Physical touch is her love language. She’s comes from a family that has no issue showing their affection by touch. There is NO such thing as personal space and that still stands with aj when it comes to relationships, she sees no other way

It’s what she shows and what she wants in return, if you’re not touching her in some sort of way, then automatically she thinks there’s something wrong or that she did something

Is the jealous type. It has shown in relationships and ruined a relationship or two

Has cheated on a significant other out of pure jealousy & is not proud to admit that

Does have a wandering eye but feels now that she truly understands herself when it comes to relationships, she’ll never act on it again

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I get libra tendencies from her so that’s what I’m sticking with. She likes to keep the peace (unless she’s jealous) , idealistic — always looking on the bright side of things, outgoing, romantic, and professional— especially when it comes to her team; her true leadership comes out, yet she can be indecisive, hates confrontation, self pitying — if things don’t go perfectly how she imagined/planned it to, the world is ending and everyone is out to get her, and can be unreliable—never on time

September libra to be exact

if she’s really in love/taken a interest in you then she gets nervous: blushing, sweaty palms, cracking her knuckles, tongue tied—the whole 9

she’s already defined as a puppy by her coach but when she’s in love? She’s a lovesick puppy!

her fav holiday is Valentine’s Day

thought she was going to be a pro skateboarder growing up but it took one bad fall where she thought she was paralyzed for her to choose something else

she likes her weed on occasion

Obsessed with all types of cheese except cottage, “can I put cheese on this?”

more of a jumpsuit kinda girl or dressy top with jeans & hoops on a night out

has a solid group of mates outside of the hockey team, they’ve all met and hung out a couple of times, as they should since aj feels they’re going to be stuck with her for awhile so why not?

They’re a riot when they all go out, let’s just say that there’s never a dull moment

fav color is periwinkle

enjoys ASMR, mostly in the mornings when she’s waking up. You know how people love podcasts? (Sorry seb & Nicky, she still wants to be on the show soon!) ASMR is her thing

loves tangerines, you can count on it that she’ll have one on her, “where did you pull that from?” “I’ll never share my master plan.” “You’re such a tit.”

Definitely prefers “fresh squeezed” orange juice & will make her own, she has the tools & the strength 😏

Very rare for her to get sick ;) & if she does she’s a complete baby about it

Will fight that she’s sick before she admits it, trying all sorts of horrid remedies & vitamins

loves summer & all things that come with it, the number one thing is leaving bath for however long she can for a new place to enjoy

when she arrived to love island, she was thrilled for the weather. Yes she was looking for love but most importantly a nice get away & that it was (depending on your route that is lol)

closest with seb, vieve, elladine, and tai but don’t tell the others that! (She doesn’t care if you tell Yasmin, honestly)

just because her & seb “dated” and it didn’t work out doesn’t mean they can’t be friends right? It was almost automatic for them to be platonic after it was determined there would be no romance between them, almost like sibs! like those celebs like to say—except this time these two won’t turn around and actually find romance

vieve came with seb so...but no shade aj did like vieve. She gave great advice (while seb sometimes didn’t say the right things unintentionally or what aj needed to hear) when needed, especially from a medical view and is very sweet

elladine was the one who had all the tea & ideas to match, she’s quite organized and always down for DIY’s and could suggest almost anything. If you needed someone to help you get things tidy or match/find your Aesthetic, she’s the friend you call to help

tai was the one she could be a “bro” with, sure elladine has her competive side (or controlling, depends on how you view it) but tai was the one you can run to for much needed “bro hugs”, partying, going to the pubs, playing sports with or against, checking out/flirting with babes, etc...

it was not long after the villa that aj had a revelation with her sexuality & fully owned and labeled herself as a lesbian

She was happy being in relationship with someone else or with herself, life was short and she was young so there wasn’t time to dwell and stress over things so what the hell?! Live your truth the best way you know how ya know?

probably smells like sweet citrus, almond flower, and sea salt

on chest days, she’s a sweets snacker. Loves gummy bears (also with vodka) , swedish fish, sour patch kids, etc...basically shit that sticks to ur teeth

put all her chips into hockey, while it was advised by her Counselors & mum not to do so, aj went about it anyway. She thought about the pros and cons but knew there was nothing else for her. So there were more pros than cons. She was meant to play sports, its what felt right in her soul

Made her feel connected to her father, when she’s on the field she feels that he is with her

 scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated or confused about something

Doesn’t always grasp concepts right away, she’s a soft dummy but most of us are and that’s okay! We’re all smart in our own ways

Feels like sunflowers are always around her especially if she sees them wherever she is. They must symbolize SOMETHING, therefore she loves them

spf queen. All about it, get with it or let the sunrays ruin ur skin that’s on u

loves a good filet mignon medium-well & is probably the only good thing she knows how to make alongside a salad, baked potatoes, & her oj

sucker for romantic-comedies...it’s basically her life duh!

If she has a dog, it’s a Dalmatian or Great Dane. She needs a companion that’ll keep up with her

loves kissing, it’s her favorite form of intimacy

Quarantine life included the push up challenge for her. Gaining a few pounds in muscle and fat, bothering seb via ft, viewing old letters she wrote to her dad, spending time with her fav ladies since they were now restricted from having guests in their home, and letting boredom consume her + she hated the whole lockdown that came with it, she hated being indoors for long periods of time but she knew that’s what partly needed to be done

Posts a lot of beach, park, outings with her friends & team, moments with her fav ladies, workout videos, and guests at the b&b with their permission and if only she befriends them along the way. She’s just as active on the socials as she is in rl but she’s not obsessed with it, she knows how to live in the now. She’s all about balance!

I also feel like she never keeps her phone charged and it’s always dying on her! She had a car charger but...that’s a jungle. She needs to invest in a portable charger stat

crushing on/finds attractive: Jared Padalecki, Keanu Reeves, Barrett Doss, Camilla Luddington, Sandra Bullock, Adrian Kempe, Harry Kirton, Anya Taylor-Joy, Haley Lu Richardson, Naomi Osaka, Ming & Aoki Lee Simmons

who does she listen to? Shakira lol!! Bea Miller, Dua Lipa, Daya, XYLØ, Elley Duhé, Stela Cole, Aloe Blacc, Maroon 5, Lewis capaldi, Charlie Puth, girl in red, Hayley kiyoko, king princess, dodie, & tessa violet

Anthem: Icona Pop — we got the world

[writefightandflightclub]

Bulletproof (First Order!Poe x reader)

What is this? This is the 2nd of 14 short prompt requests I’ll be writing as part of my 500 follower celebration! See my call-out for requests (now closed... unless you’re desperate!) and credit for prompt list creators here.

What is the prompt? This awesome prompt from @woakiees -“i’m feeling #45 from the third prompt list with fo! poe (”you took a bullet for me.”) maybe some angst with a happy ending? or not happy. you decide!” Hope this is something like you had in mind, woakiees! <3 

Author’s note: I tried my best to write angst idk.

Word count: I failed on my 500 word limit AGAIN. This one is 1.5k words. Maker!

Warnings: Language, sex references. Shooting / serious injury.

GIF: By @poe-dameron​ (unrelated to the story except for that fabulous salt and pepper).

You didn’t think it through. You just jumped. It’s not like you had to time to weigh it up, in the heat of the moment. Not like you decided it should be you instead of him. It just couldn’t be him. Not Poe. Not the man you’d loved hopelessly since the Academy.

You thought he might at least be grateful. Might finally get a soft look in his eyes. You know the one; that look, when someone’s eyes seem to become just a little deeper, a little more expansive, like they contain the swirling depths of a galaxy. Like love is birthing new stars behind their eyes, all for you.

You thought he might run to you, cradle you. Cry for you. Maybe love you. Finally. In your final moments.

Instead: “What did you do?”, the Commander spits, an expression so sour painted on his face that he could be looking at rebel scum, not at you. His dark eyes black holes, his body as still and grey and imposing as a Coruscant skyscraper.

“I took a bullet for you, asshole.”, you rasp, clutching at your stomach, peering down at the blood stain expanding outwards like a red giant. “Fuck knows I’m regretting it now.”

Unceremoniously, despite efforts to style it out, you drop to your knees, on to your side, pain flaring in you like the dying sun painting itself across your uniform. It hurts, it burns, but you try to hang on to the pain, to focus on it. You know that once your star stops burning, the sky simply goes black. You’re damn sure you want some more fire yet.

Your eyes reach out to Poe, still stood there, motionless. He’s lost his decisive edge, that unerring control and power he always seems to have over everything, over you. He’s floundering. You call his name and then finally he comes to you, at least. Presses a cloth to your wound.

“Ah, you fucker.”, you bitch as it stings.

“Just fucking hang on. Apply pressure.”

You’re on your back now, with the sky -not his face- above you. This isn’t how you wanted this to go. Not how you wanted to go. The suns are dazzling but you’d much rather his eyes were the last thing you see. You had always preferred the night. Always could get lost in his eyes, like being marooned on dark, shadowed planets. Instead, your life force is slipping into the insipid pink skies overhead.

Your eyes swimming, you search for him, try hard to focus-up, to fight through the growing haze. You tune-in to the crackle of his comms beside you. You hear him signalling for the field medics, a flurry of barked orders. Telling them he’s down, not you. Using his position, you realise. The Order don’t typically care all that much about sacrificing soldiers. At least he happens to care about one.

“You need a medic?”, you tease, before realising the words would wrack you with pain. “You always were dramatic, Dameron.”

“Says you. Why can’t you just walk this off, huh?” Now his stony face is looming over you. That’s better. Looking into his eyes is much better. Even if he does run a tell-tale hand through his hair; a gesture he only ever performs in the most fraught moments. Even if his hands do come up red, flecking his face with your blood as if your dying sun is bathing him in its dappled light.

He’s positively beautiful.

Still, it’s not half as romantic as you might have imagined it would be, taking a bullet for Commander Dameron. No speeches. No thanks. No declarations. Of love, or otherwise. But at least he does stay with you, even as the bullets and explosions threaten him further. And at least he does offer you his hand, which you clasp tightly as if you might never let go. Then a little less tightly when you can’t hold on.  

You’re suddenly heavy. Tired. Your eyes begin to flutter closed, until you feel him slap you repeatedly across the face. Who would have thought it would be so useful to have a kinky lover around in life or death situations?

Perhaps delirium is beginning to set in.  

“I th- thought you said there was a time and a p- place for public displays of BDSM, Commander.” Why are you suddenly so damn cold.

“You shut your smart mouth or I’ll have to make you, you hear me?” there’s a slight crack in his voice, you think. A pained, heartbroken attempt at a smile which almost reaches the corner of his eyes.

He drags your head on to his lap then. Still looking positively furious at the whole situation. Looking like if you die he might kill you, along with everyone else in the galaxy.

He lets you reach up and stroke his face, his hair, his beard, for once not caring who sees. “My Poe.” You try to bend your face into a soft smile as you feel yourself beginning to slip further away, like you’re floating in space with no gravity. “I love you, y-you know…?”

You don’t get to find out if he says it back.

So this is what it feels like to die?

It could be worse. At least you get to maroon yourself on the shadowy shores of his eyes as everything fades to black.

 *******

You wake up, shocked to be alive in the First Order med bay. Not for the first time.

This is the first time, however, that you wake to find Commander Dameron  sleeping in the chair next to you, gripping your hand in his, his crown of salt and pepper curls nestled at your side. 

Your mouth forms the shape of the words before any sounds comes out.

“W… What..” you rasp, tugging at his hand with what little strength you can muster. “Poe. What happened?”

BB-8 is the one to jostle him awake, detecting you’re conscious first. The black and orange droid beeps sharply at his master, tipping his antennae up towards you to direct his gaze. Fighting through the fog of sleep, the Commander’s eyes meet yours. Then, he is gripping your hand a little tighter. He is looking at you with an intensity that’s oh so familiar, but which suddenly hits different.

You repeat your question. What happened?

He pauses to suck in a deep breath, as if he needs the force of it behind his words. And yet, his voice comes out small. “You took a bullet for me.”  

You head lolls towards him, eyes searching his. You’re groggy, but you hope you still manage to look indignant. “And let me guess. You’re pissed off?”

He shoots you a dismissive look and stands. Still in his bloodied battle clothes, he looks uncharacteristically dishevelled. He looks like he’s never left your side since the battlefield.

There’s that deep breath again, hinting that more forceful words are coming. He begins with your name, and it fills his mouth, as if he’s putting everything he has behind it.

Then: “I’ve wished it for a lot of things.”, he starts, voice impassioned. The way he sometimes gets on the bridge, or over the comms in his TIE. “Power. Empire. Quashing the scum once and for all.” He strokes your cheek so lovingly with the back of his hand that you think your heart might burst. “But I’ve never wished I had the force more than in that moment, when I needed to bring you back to me.”

He stoops to plant the softest kiss to your forehead. “I love you. You’re my match. There’s no rank, no war, no battle, and no victory I care about winning if I’ve lost you. There’s only you. I need you to know that.”

A happiness is swelling in your heart and spilling from your eyes, tears coursing their way down your cheeks.

His eyes crease at the corners, playful. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re always so dramatic.”, he teases.

Maker, you love that man. Always have, ever since the Academy. He’s certainly the only one you’d take a fucking bullet for.

“Now.” He announces, smoothing his demeanour, his uniform, and adopting a stance that means business. “I had to royally piss off Hux to stay here with you. Plus, I can’t let him have all the fun planning the counterstrike against the bastards who shot you, can I?” His delicious eyes glisten with malice, and you can’t wait to hear the horrors he’s likely to concoct in the name of revenge.

He collects his gloves from his chair and moves gracefully to the doorway, eyes lingering on you. “Bb-8 will stay with you. Get some rest. And then, when you’re rested, get the droid to send me your most brutal suggestions for how the counterstrike should go down, OK?”

He winks at you, and you return a soft smile. “Commander? Don’t get shot.”

His eyes twinkle, the birth of stars behind his eyes as he finally gives you that look. The look you’ve waited years for. “Right back at you, sweetheart.”

Maybe from that day on, the Commander remembers to soften, just a little. Only for you. It seems, that after all these years, you finally penetrated that bulletproof heart.

And, oddly, all it took was a bullet.

[loplih]

🍓✨ Some Ichihime Headcanons that I wrote some time ago, but never got the courage to publish 🍓✨

(Chronologically)

After Ichigo asked Orihime to make some time for him, she only could think about him. Orihime couldn't wait to hear what he wanted to say to her.

Ichigo took 2 weeks thinking about how he would confess.

During that time his family notice it was something going on. He seemed out of this world, looking tense and nervous.

Finally he made the decision and went after her. Surprisingly, when he opens the door Orihime was outside with some bread to give.

Orihime thought "since he has not said anything after that day, I'm going there by myself bringing some bread to see if he says something".

For both surprises they saw each other at the same time and it was awkward. Ichigo almost fainted. But made a appointment with her, next day.

The confession was late in the afternoon by the river.

The sky was the exact same pantone color as Ichigo’s hair that day. Orihime noticed that and she will never forget. It almost looked like a piece of art: Them & the sky.

They were both surprised that they were in love with each other. It was hard to believe.

Secretly he loves when Orihime blushes. She was blushing during the (confession) date day. He thinks this shows how pure and beautiful she is.

In the beginning they didn't tell about their relationship to anyone, they wanted to take it slowly. But it didn't last that long when people started to notice they had something more.

Keigo got upset with Ichigo because he was the first one to have a girlfriend.

Tatsuki just shouted a big loud ‘’FINALLY THAT BASTARD…!’’ when Orihime told her they where dating.

Ichigo’s sisters sees Orihime as a bigger sister. They want their brother to marry Orihime because they believe they will be again a happy family (like old times) since she reminds Masaki.

But Ichigo just gets nervous and super red about it when his sisters says that. But secretly he already dreams about marrying Orihime.

Prety much everyone in soul society didn't get surprised by their relationship, since they were kinda obvious during the war.

The first date was romantic. They had dinner together at a local restaurant and in the end they stayed outside at Orihime’s apartment watching the stars in the sky. In the beginning they were both shy and nervous, but they quickly forgot about that.

After the first date Ichigo started saving money to by her a ring. Just in case.

The last dates they had before marriage, weren't that "romantic". They usually stayed at Ichigo’s house reading and commenting manga together, watching movies or just laid down on his bedroom talking.

They always forget about time when they are together. And time runs fast when they are having fun.

They started spending summer together like full time. Ichigo having driver license made things easier. They usually do family and friend trips.

But as normal, they always like to be alone sometimes. When they go out alone by car, the Kurosaki’s loves to make speculations. Ichigo gets super annoyed, ‘’as if something more than a little trip is going to happen’’.

They had problems conciling time for being together. But they always got to see each other when they had some time free.

Sometimes at night, on those impossible weeks, just to see each other for a minute, Ichigo goes to her apartment as a shinigami because it's more faster.

One time Ichigo said without noticing " but when we get married we will definitly have more time to be together..." Orihime didn’t know Ichigo wanted to marry her. She cried a little.

Ichigo waited to end university to marry Orihime. That was his plan.

If you think Orihime is a cry baby, imagine how her face whent when Ichigo oficial asked her to marry him.

They wanted a simple wedding, but everyone decided to help and it tourned out much beautiful that they were expecting.

Ichigo changed his haircut days before the wedding. ''oh m-my...! You look so good!'' ''Really??'' ''Yeah, you look more mature, I like it... kinda shock because I thought my future husband couldn't even be more handsome then before...and the better part is that now I can see that scowling face even better...'' ‘’ uh-huh I already knew you'd say that!‘’ ‘’that scowling face that I love! Come on!’’  Orihime said with her hands on the back of his neck, hugging him.

She thought the possibility of seeing a emotional Ichigo was low...But he tried so hard not to cry when he saw orihime in her wedding dress. His face reaction was the cuttest.

Their kiss at the cerimony was one of the few times they were kissing. They were always too shy about it, and respected mostly each other to do it in the right time.

After honeymoon their number of kisses were uncountable.

Their honeymoon was on a paradisic place.

They went to the beach a lot and they got sun burn. Ichigo tourned out looking like a lobster. "WHATS NEW? IM ALL ORANGE NOW, GOD DAM IT".

Ichigo is still the one who takes pictures. He loves to take pictures to his wife when she is distracted doing something. Sometimes she looks at him and starts to smile because she already knows him. Smiling just makes the picture even more beautiful and consequently, that’s what he wants.

Ichigo couldn't remember the last time he felt that way: relaxed and happy.

After intimacy they felt a bigger connection with eachother and they weren't shy about anything anymore.

This is true because: 1) Orihime feels really comfortable being naked in their hotel room and Ichigo doesn't say nothing about it. 2) They both like to...

After returning home Yuzu and Karin couldn't believe the way Ichigo was different. Just like the old times, when their mother was alive, but at the same time wasn't the same feeling. It was a better feeling.

They discovered she was pregnant because Orihime was always feeling sick, and Ichigo said " ...m-maybe you are... pregnant" with a kinda happy and questionable/nervous expression. "I-I don't know...!"

She made a test while Ichigo waited for the result next to her. While that, both nervous in the Kurosaki Clinic, they started talking about the possibility of being pregnant or not.

When they saw the result they hugged each other crying with happiness. ‘‘I can't believe this is really going to happen ...we will be parents’‘, ‘’ Yeah...I’m so proud of us’’.

The Kurosaki's had a lot of fighting about the baby gender... Men's wanted a baby boy because it's already too many woman in the house. Yuzu and Orihime wanted a baby girl because they love the idea of dressing her. Karin just stays away from the scene. She just wants the baby to love playing sports like her, so she can teach everything.

Orihime and Ichigo lying on the couch seeing how big her belly is getting and starting to make future plans about Kazui. ‘‘he is getting bigger and bigger, yes, that’s my boy!’‘.

Orihime suffered from back pains. To help her, Ichigo massages her back and gives her hot water baths to minimise the pain.

Its also a fact that: ‘’I love you’’ ‘’...is that for me or for the toilet’’ Orihime in the bathroom feeling really sick vomiting and Ichigo by her side holding her hair.

Ichigo cried when he saw Kazui for the first time.

Karin and Yuzu taking care of Baby Kazui to give some time to Ichigo and Orihime. They needed to rest and stay together alone for a bit.

They do have a dog. Every happy family has a dogo. Or a cato.

@loplih

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🍓 I challenge you to reblog and ADD your own headcanon to this post!

If so, don't forget to mencion yourself "@namehere" under it, if you want to be credited!

🍓 Let's make this fandom alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[unboundbnha]

for the talls

The Boys with tall s/o’s, specifically for @ginger-n-coco, @russianonion and @bnhascribbles!

Coco x Erasermic: 

okay so these two would appreciate your height so much? you’re perfect to fit in-between them! perfect for smooches and..,...,...y’know ;))))

Aizawa in particular feels much more at-ease knowing that you aren’t gonna be clambering on top of counters to reach the top shelf SLKDFHSLDIH

if anyone EVER gave you shit for your height oh you KNOW they’d be there, glowering over your shoulder

also, just personality-wise? they’d love your subtle sass. Aizawa would snrk at one of your quiet mega-burns at Hizashi. you two would definitely bond that way, but both of them would love your super-sweet heart, too! 🥺 they find it impossible not to win with you, ngl

Aizawa likes not having to lean down for a kiss 😂 saves his poor achy-breaky s p i n e

Both of them bury their heads in your neck when you dance 🥺 good for subtle smoochin’

Hizashi likes to tickle you with his moustache! both of them go 🥺 at your laugh. they just…...they really love you okay 🥺🥺🥺

whenever you all have an evening off and nothing going on the next day, it’s a movie night for sure! you’re gonna be snuggled between them on the couch, Hizashi’s fingers twined with yours, Aizawa’s arm around your waist, bowl of popcorn on your lap and gosh, cats everywhere. Thalia’s probably trying to wheedle her way into someone’s arms for cuddles and/or trying to lick the butter off of someone’s fingers.

sleeping together means you wake up, not in a pile exactly but definitely tangled together — your guys’ cuddles are absolute GOLD

you three are just a really cohesive fit, like three puzzle pieces (and sexytime positions are much easier to maneuver because no one’s way shorter than anyone else SKDJFHKSJDH)

would be your firmest supporters and defenders for literally everything.

Cheese x Shinsou:

listen: he’s a leg man.

you’ll be minding your own business when you feel Hitoshi’s eyes burning holes in you from somewhere — oh, over in the kitchen, did he really stop halfway through washing a dish? all just to skim his gaze up your legs. don’t worry babe his hands will follow suit later ;))))

always has at least one hand on your thigh at any given occasion

he just likes your legs okay??? he likes that there’s so much to……..explore ;) 💃

your legs always end up tangled together when you sleep 🥺 you’ll wake up with him tracing a finger up and down your thigh, drawing little invisible designs

definitely the type to come up behind you when you’re distracted with something like cooking or even when you’re on the phone, hug you from behind, and bury his face in your shoulder 🥺 also your earlobe is right there and that’s prime teasing material

if you ever wear heels he’s over the moon because again, LEG. LEG MAN.

loves all of the creative hair combinations you come up with! green and orange? hell yeah, you match his purple now!

speaking of, whenever you two night-owls actually bully yourselves to bed he loves spooning because he likes the smell of your hair. it’s fine, he’s fine

probably can actually somewhat tame his hair now because you’re a part of his life 🥺 he wasn’t terrible at taking care of it before, he just didn’t use specified products for his wack-ass hair texture

he has his own share of insecurities that he deals with, and if you ever felt self-conscious about your height he wouldn’t hesitate to explain to you why you’re perfect to him the way you are. he can really appreciate how emotionally intelligent you are — you’ve always supported him when he struggles, of course he’d do the same for you. you’re one of the major lights of his life, and in his mind you deserve no less

Shinsou isn’t a loud braggart but he can’t help but sport a smug smile when people see such you on his arm at hero events. yeah, that’s right, this statuesque goddess is his girlfriend. she’s got a heart of gold, he gets to see her mile-long legs in that beautiful dress, AND he also gets to see her in her comfy sweats, making memes for her friends at 4am. those bastards wish they were so lucky.

Hams x Mirio:

HE WILL GAS YOU UP AT ANY OCCASION. HE’S YOUR OWN PERSONAL HYPE MAN. HE LOVES HIS TALL BEAUTIFUL GF.

he WILL pick you up, he WILL give you piggyback rides, he WILL carry you everywhere in his arms if given the chance

nose! kisses! 🥺

actually, he’ll pepper your whole face with kisses: you’re JUST the right height for him to map every inch with his lips! he’ll wrap you up in his arms because there’s no way you’re escaping him until he’s satisfied!!!

loves sharing clothes with you! his sweatpants are your sweatpants :’) that also means your sweatshirts are his sweatshirts, so if you have doofy band nerd stuff the paparazzi is DEF gonna have some pictures. your fave is one where he’s walking down the street in your civvies, but they’re pink sweats with your undergrad school and a sweatshirt that says “REED MY LIPS” SALKDFHSDKLJFH

oh yeah, supports your puns too. he thinks they’re hilarious. he thinks your sense of humor, overall, is hilarious. loses his shit laughing when you meticulously plan out your revenge on your friends. like, tears-in-his-eyes, clutching-his-stomach-from-stitches loses his shit. has a streak of mischief himself and will offer up his own ideas: while he’s the sunshine hero to the public, he’s got his own prank proclivity, you know! (and yes, you, Hams, really brought it out of the background of his personality and made it shine, you monster)

he’s at a great height for helping you wash your hair, too: it’s long, but since you’re tall he can actually see what he’s doing! he’s also very gentle with you and your hair 🥺 if you ever choose to scrap the messy bun (will you, Hams? for him?) he’ll play with your hair all day long.

super invested in your hobbies! he’s in awe that you’re so creative! “wow, babe, you made this necklace? and this notebook? and this notebook?? 😱 I’m dating a creative genius!!!! you need to sell this stuff, it’s amazing!!!!! I have the most amazing girlfriend!!!!!”

you’re both cooking disasters. Tamaki weeps for you. sometimes he brings over home-cooked meals for you guys because 1) he’s pretty sure neither of you have eaten anything Real™ since he last visited and 2) he loves you because you make his best friend, one of the most important people in his life, so happy. mostly he just shakes his head and wonders how you two are still alive though SAKJSDFHKJHASD

Mirio is the KING of spontaneous slow-dancing gooeyness: you’ll be minding your own business when suddenly there’s a romantic-ass song playing and Mirio’s got his hand out, wondering if “he can have this dance, pretty lady?” and then you two sway in the living room, nose-to-nose, both of you sporting goofy smiles, surrounded by craft materials and the artwork Eri’s gifted you both.

he loves everything about you and he isn’t about to let you forget it.

[lady-divine-writes]

ACITW AU one-shot “Together Apart” (Rated M)

Summary: With Kurt in New York, performing in New Year's Rockin' Eve, and Sebastian partying with his brother in Westerville like old times, it looks like Kurt and Sebastian will be spending this holiday apart ... and Kurt is not okay with that. (2515 words)

Notes: I always liked this one because it showed that just because Sebastian is rich and could easily take care of Kurt for the rest of his life, Kurt never gave up his dreams. He went to NYADA and is now performing on Broadway. Besides, I'm a sap for stories that manage to pull it all together at the buzzer, so to speak. Fluff and romance with plenty of throwbacks to the original story.

Read on AO3.

“Stupid … frickin’ … useless … WiFi …” Kurt mutters, slapping his phone against the palm of his hand with each word, as if battering the thing will jostle the electronics and force it to work. “Overpriced … piece … of garbage …”

“Still can’t get FaceTime to connect?”

“No,” Kurt growls. “I’ve deleted it and downloaded it about a dozen times and it keeps freezing up on me. Instagram, too. Dammit! Why do we let AT&T soak us for Broadband if it’s not going to work during the important times, like bank holidays and inclement weather?”

“That’s my bad,” Sebastian says. “I forgot to select the Defy Act of God add-on when I renewed our service.”

“Bastard. Always letting me down.” Kurt spins on his his heel and flops down on his back on the bed. “I guess we’re going to have to talk into the phone … like cavemen.”

“Ooo … cavemen,” Sebastian purrs. “We haven’t roleplayed that before. Sounds primal. Now that’s a concept I can get behind.”

“It’d be easier for you to get behind it if you were actually here.”

“I know, babe, I know. But on the bright side, phone sex is a viable option.”

Kurt closes his eyes and sighs, deflating into his pillowcase and his down duvet. The fingers of his free hand find his forehead and massage, attempting to knead away the pounding in his sleep deprived brain. “Are we really going to do this over the phone?”

“Yes. Hence the mention of phone sex.”

“No, I mean celebrate New Year’s. The way things stand, we’re better off calling it a night, wait till you get here tomorrow to celebrate. I really want to take off my clothes, hop in a hot shower, and boil the skin off my bones.”

“Without me?”

“Again, you’re not here …”

“Exactly! We’ve never missed a New Year’s together! Even when we were separated, you were my New Year’s kiss! Now I know you’ve spent yet another taxing evening as a winged marmoset but I’m sorry. You’re going to have to wait one more hour to turn yourself into human stew because I am not spending New Year’s Eve without my kiss!”

Kurt bites his lower lip, holding back a laugh. He doesn’t want to encourage Sebastian. But he ends up snorting which, in terms of laughter, is much worse. Sometimes Kurt thinks Sebastian should have attended NYADA and been the musical theater major since he’s the real drama queen in their relationship. “And how do you intend on getting a kiss from me from over five hundred miles away when we can’t even FaceTime?”

“May I bring your attention back to the topic of phone sex? It’s something I know you’re exceedingly familiar with.”

“Ha … ha …”

From somewhere in the distance, a wave of laughter erupts, as if half the population of Westerville has been listening to Sebastian ply his adolescent wit. Kurt rolls his eyes, grimacing at his phone so hard, his head goes from dull pang to steady throb.

“Why bother?” he sniffs. “From the sounds of it, you’re having the time of your life at your folks’. What? Did Julian and Cooper rope you into one of your famous parties while your parents are away? Trying to recapture the good old days?”

Sebastian makes a non-committal noise. “It’s not a party without you. Besides, I’m not about that life anymore.” He huffs. “Even when I was about that life, I wasn’t about that life.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. Let’s say I wasn’t about that life after I fell head over heels in love with you.”

“And when was that?”

“Earlier than you’re willing to believe.”

“Sure,” Kurt grumbles, proving Sebastian right. It’s not that he doesn’t believe Sebastian. He’s too bitter at the moment to think favorably about anything. He sighs again, debating between climbing underneath the covers fully clothed or trundling off to the kitchen for a bottle of water and a couple aspirin.

Neither wins.

“So what is going on where you are right now?” he asks, his insides roaring with jealousy before he even gets an answer.

“Where I am right now?” Sebastian repeats, singling those words out - the lynchpin to a loophole. Because the party of the century could very well be bumping in the house around him, but if Sebastian has holed himself up in a bathroom, or his old bedroom, then technically he’s not partaking in the festivities. But from the constant static of music and laughter behind him, Kurt doesn’t think that’s the case. “Not much. Hanging with a bunch of drunk randos I don’t know, listening to music that makes me want to puke in my shoes.”

“There’s an image.” Kurt chuckles, not for long but loud enough to regret it. “Can I assume then that you’re a bit sloshed yourself?”

“Not at all. I’ve had the sum total of one Seagram’s.”

Kurt makes a face. If that’s what Julian is supplying their guests, he’s really scraping the bottom of the barrel. Or did they run out of the good stuff early on and have to make a 7-11 run? Or, more to the point, have some poor schlub from DoorDash make a 7-11 run? “Would that be vodka or gin?”

“Uh … no.” Sebastian clears his throat uncomfortably. “More like … uh …”

Amusement and confusion burn a slow smile across Kurt’s tired mouth. What in the world could it be that it’s taking Sebastian this long to answer? “Come on, Smythe! Cough it up! What was this mystery drink?”

“It was … an … ahem … Orange Sassy Swirl.”

The last three words tumble out of Sebastian’s mouth like a skydiver without a parachute.

“Oh, Sebastian. No,” Kurt commiserates earnestly, wondering at what level of desperation Sebastian would actively submit to imbibing anything that goes by the name Orange Sassy Swirl when he had once balked at ordering Kurt a much more respectable apple-tini. “Say it ain’t so.”

“What about you?” Sebastian side-steps swiftly, obviously unwilling to divulge what led him to pick a beverage with such a ludicrous name. “Hit up any noteworthy shindigs?”

“Nope. I took off my makeup after we recorded our part for New Year’s Rockin’ Eve and headed straight back to our place.”

“None of your theater buddies had anything planned? You guys have some heavy hitters in your cast of Wicked. Not a one of them is throwing a party?”

“It’s not that. Idina and Kristin both had prior engagements, of course, but most of the cast had somewhere to go. A few invitations made it my way, I won’t lie. Being a Flying Monkey has its perks after all. But that’s not the point.”

“And what is the point, monkey man?”

“The point is that even though I’m living the dream, I’d much rather be with you, drinking your brother’s wacky alcoholic concoctions in his never ending quest to get me as drunk as possible. We’d stumble upstairs to slow dance in your old bedroom till midnight then, right when the ball drops …”

“Yeah?”

“We’d bone.”

Sebastian barks a laugh the way Kurt had hoped. God, he misses that laugh, the smile that accompanies it, the way both light up Sebastian’s face. With his eyes shut and Sebastian’s voice in his ear, Kurt can see his face so clearly it makes his heart hurt.

“There’s my hopeless romantic,” Sebastian says when he catches his breath.

“And even though New Year’s is a completely made up holiday …”

“Kurt! They’re all made up!”

“I mean the whole concept of a holiday that celebrates the passage of time without the inclusion of some sort of harvest because time itself is a man-made construct …”

“Here we go again …” Sebastian mumbles under his breath. Oddly, he sounds like he’s out of breath and racing through traffic. Most likely multitasking, Kurt thinks. Playing a video game while talking on the phone. Kurt remembers way back when when he, Sebastian, Julian, Finn, and Puck would spend the bulk of Julian and Sebastian’s annual New Year’s Eve blowout kicking each others’ asses at GTA - much to the dismay of their hornier guests, who’d been banking on some kind of show from the Smythes. They eventually did get one since their friendly game turned into strip GTA once Julian, Finn, and Puck got decently buzzed. Any fans of Sebastian’s went away disappointed though since that was around the time he’d squirrel Kurt upstairs so they could ring in the New Year in private.

“There was a time when the calendar didn’t have twelve months. If it wasn’t for the tremendous egos of the Caesar bros …”

“Otherwise known as the salad mavens of ancient Rome …”

“There’d only be ten months!”

“Not to put a wrench in your tirade,” a suddenly winded Sebastian interrupts, “but I don’t think that’s entirely accurate ...”

“I’d be 56 years old!” Kurt rails, uncaring.

“On the up side,” Sebastian says, abandoning his point, “you’d look magnificent for your age. As would I.”

A comfortable but tense silence settles between them, Kurt straining to hear more of what’s going on on Sebastian’s end of the phone while picturing what sort of bedlam Julian has unleashed. But the murmurs of celebration Sebastian is caught up in sound fuzzy and disjointed, shifting and changing as Sebastian (presumably) walks through the house in search of a quiet place to converse.

“Come on, babe,” he says finally. “Tell me what’s on your mind. What’s got you so down on this joyous non-holiday? You usually don’t wax historical unless you can tie it back to the moral of a Sondheim musical.”

“I …” Kurt struggles to come up with a lighthearted, funny response to complement Sebastian’s jab, maybe some mention of his obsession with Indie rock, but he can’t come up with anything. He’s crashing, physically and emotionally, but it’s the emotionally that’s threatening to dismember him on impact. He suddenly can’t help himself his feelings. They’re too overwhelming to control. He knows that the long hours he spent practicing over the past few days set him up for this; the fact that he skipped out on dinner and then completely bypassed the craft services table in his eagerness to get home didn’t help. But it’s the prospect of starting this New Year off alone, for some reason, that’s become too soul shattering to bear. They’re not in high school anymore, where every emotion becomes ratcheted beyond its limits, every moment feels do or die. This shouldn’t be as big a deal as it is. “I miss you. I know we’ve only been apart three days and I know I’m going to see you tomorrow - like, eight short hours from now but … I really miss you. I learned a long time ago that I don’t like being away from you for too long, especially on nights like tonight when pretty much every person in the world is paired up with someone, preparing to share a kiss come midnight, real holiday or no.”

“I feel you …”

Kurt frowns as the sound of a car horn drowns out the end of Sebastian’s sentence. If he’s not actually out in traffic, Kurt has to say the sound effects in GTA 5 are incredible. With that in mind, he wonders if the makers of GTA 5 included a slurring crowd counting down the seconds till midnight as some kind of too-on-the-nose Easter Egg.

“And so it begins.” Sebastian exhales long and deep, and for the first time that night, he doesn’t sound anywhere near festive. He sounds defeated. “How about you count it off for us, babe?”

“Yeah, all right,” Kurt agrees, clearing a sharp-cornered sob from his throat. “10 … 9 … 8 …” He counts by rote, not really listening to himself but to Sebastian’s breathing over the phone, waiting for Kurt to reach one so he can make some ridiculous ‘Mwah!’ noise and go back to his game. Behind closed eyelids, Kurt imagines being at the Smythe house with him, arms wrapped around his waist, lips ghosting his neck as he tries his best to distract him.

He’d succeed, but Sebastian would still win his game. He’s that good.

“... 5 …” Kurt’s voice wavers, his eyes beginning to burn “… 4 … 3 … 2 …”

“... 1 …”

A familiar voice and the press of warm lips against Kurt’s mouth make his eyelids spring open. Moss-green eyes peer into his, steeped in the same level of exhaustion, but even more so, the same level of longing. With his eyes shut, Kurt didn’t see Sebastian come in; didn’t hear him unlock the front door or open the bedroom door over the revelry going on outside, echoing from the TV that he’d put on for white noise and forgotten all about. Besides, Sebastian could walk as quietly as the dead when he wanted to - a talent garnered from years of sneaking out of his house, climbing down trellises and jumping off rooftops in the middle of the night with his parents none the wiser.

“You’re here,” Kurt whispers in a hoarse, relieved voice.

“I am,” Sebastian replies with the addition of another kiss … then another as he climbs onto the bed and straddles his boyfriend.

“You … you didn’t tell me you were coming. You didn’t even hint that you were in the city.”

“I didn’t know if I would make it in time. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“How did you get here?”

“Train. Then an Uber. Until the roads became blocked by pedestrians and I had to get out and hoof it.”

Kurt nods slowly. That explains the incongruous sounds of people interspersed with cars and traffic on his end of the phone. “You’re an asshole.”

“True. But I’m your ...” Sebastian’s face pinches, stuck somewhere between a laugh and scowl when he thinks about the way his comment is about to come across out loud. “You know what? Let’s just say jerk.”

“It would have been nice to have something to look forward to,” Kurt says, shaky arms creeping up around Sebastian’s neck.

“I know.” Sebastian runs the tip of his nose lightly against Kurt’s. “But on the off chance things didn’t work out, I didn’t want to let you down.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Kurt says with the slightest of shrugs.

“Are you happy I’m here?”

“I’ll be happier in five minutes.”

Puzzled, Sebastian’s brows pull together while he fights not to yawn. But he’s so comfortable here in his own bed, with Kurt’s body underneath him, miles away from the mounds of people vying for his attention back in Ohio. “Why? What’s happening in five minutes?”

Kurt’s sad, tired expression grows into a smile that’s positively devious. “You’ll be ready for round two.”

Sebastian grins, reaching over Kurt for the remote to turn off the lights, willing to admit that he walked straight into that burn with his eyes wide open. But an entire morning spent entwined in the arms of the man he loves? That’s worth a little sizzle. “Ouch.”

[geometricalien]

oh dear i'm super duper late but I have a lot of questions about your wips!! I wanna know more about sick Akashi, nekoma pirate crew, BoKuroo/BokuAka midsommer, Pining + Jacket, The truth burns and destroys, feeling good, Punk Noya, Strawberry Blonde, sunspot and the merman au!!! Thanks babe <333

Hi Vee!!! This is it, I spent wayyyyy too long on this, I think my finger is cramping from typing. But thank you for asking, I love sharing my ideas, sorry if it’s incorherent.

This is super long so it’s under the cut, saving people room

Sick Akashi 

So, it’s based off of a line prompt “I’d like it if you’d stay” and as the title suggests, 3rd year Akashi gets sick, sorry Vee it’s not fatal, Furihata comes to Rakuzan to check on his friend after he doesn’t answer his phone. The entire premise is Akashi works himself sick with his various responsibilities he takes on as “perfectionist who can’t show any cracks at all”. I don’t want Bokushi Akashi showing up so it’s minus the mental break elements. (also technically in canon terms it's after they have merged so yeah) I feel like they deserve a cute little “nurse” the other from a sickness ficlet. And… maybe… sick Akashi confesses…….. It’s almost a writing challenge for me because Akashi has a more polite sophisticated way of thinking and speaking, so cough yep

The rest are Haikyuu aus so buckle in

NEKOMA PIRATE CREW 

Admittedly this is more loose, less of a solid idea. It’s Yaku centric, and how he went from a merchant from his grandfather’s company searching for lost merchandise and became the first mate who keeps track of the ship's finances and keeps their captain Kuroo on track. Other things of note, he meets Kuroo first as a pirate on another ship who stole his merchandise, Kenma is a sea witch (is that science or magic? That's always the question), and about halfway through the adventure they get Lev on board as a new member. So yeah! Kinda a fetch quest but on of my favorite fanfics is legitimately a fetch quest so it's okay fjdkaljf

BoKuroo/BokuAka Midsommer

This is based off of a fanart by desdelasombra my friend Shayla showed it to me and we threw this idea around together, we really don’t want to write it but it's also spectacular. So it's the movie Midsommar, right? Bokuto is a “gatherer” bringing his friends to come join in his village’s rituals. But we didn’t want anyone to die (except for Kenma sorry he’s dead as the substitute for the main character’s sister), so a grieving Kuroo comes with his boyfriend Bokuto, joined by their friends the smart studious and jaded Oikawa and bright bubbly Hinata. Obviously the three react badly to the first ritual and Bokuto doesn’t understand because for him it’s always been a joyful experience and he wanted to share it with his friends. A Lot of things happen, but most important is Akaashi and Kuroo dancing under the may pole together. BokuAka was in the past when Bokuto was home so part of this is them coming together as poly and escaping the final scene of the movie. Again this is very painful but that art is beautiful and the world is better for it being created

Pining + Jacket (KuroLev)

Again this is a line prompt about lending a jacket because it’s cold and it had so much potential for pining and who is the most pining bastard that I know? LEV and Shayla told me about KuroLev and somehow this happened. It’s currently going to be a sequence of drabbles of Lev pining after Kuroo, what else could you ask for? Uh? Lev confessing to Kuroo and them going out??? Sorry I can’t hear you over the exquisite angst and pain of one sided love that I want to explore

The truth burns and destroys

GOOD CHOICE, I began this on saturday night and it has earned a very special place in my heart. Sometimes I fear that my writing is like a lazy pool, sure it's nice and easy and smooth but there isn’t an intensity or raw emotions, BUT THIS this accomplishes what I want. And I’m really glad, its metaphor and imagery heavy but it really captures their emotions and thoughts without it sounding like I’m a 7th grader writing my first fanfiction glances to my abandoned wips from that time. Okay, Vee, I am a glutton for punishment and angst and I choose to pursue cheating fics. But specifically where and how they build the relationship up again after finding out. So, I was reading a KageHina cheating fic and how the character’s reacted felt off somehow so at midnight I wrote this snippet to fullfill my craving, you know what they say the best fanfiction is self indulgence. Here is a short excerpt,

He wants to brush this aside and continue their lives. He wants to wake up next to Tobio and still be seen the same way. He doesn't want anything to change. 

Tobio is his favorite book. He has read it time and time again. Highlighting, underlining, cherishing. So Shouyou is able to read the silent begging in his eyes. The right clenched fist. 

"Shouyou," a deafening pause "What is this?"

Please lie to me.

…

It stretches on. The eternity of silence. They sit together holding on to the last hope they have. Shouyou memorizes those beautiful hands, each crease and bump. Hands that helped shape him become who he is and that reached out unwaveringly. 

Tobio sighs a world ending sigh. 

Shouyou was the one who created their world, it's only fitting that Tobio is the one who destroys it.

In summary I like angst, I want to feel something 

Feeling good

AAA, okay uh, This is a BokuAka pop star au. Akaashi sings “feeling good” at a big charity event hosted by Akashi (... yes I am AkaFuri trash and I can and will sneak them in anything and everything I write) while he is singing he walks down a big staircase remembering moments in his relationship with Bokuto, how much they have grown and how much he loves him. I love the concept! But I tried to write smut in the beginning of it and OOF THATS A NO. I actually have the majority of it written but I do want to add more emotions and thoughts (the lazy pool writing) and make it Ao3 friendly because I have all of the lyrics for feeling good in it as “post signs” for what he sings and that’s against their rules. 1 major aspect of this fic is it's all leading up to the point where Akaashi says “I love you” for the first time to Bokuto after finishing the song, on stage, in front of everyone and on every screen broadcasting it.

Punk Noya

I have a love for feral boys, especially feral alternative punk boys (and girls and humans) so this whole idea is that Noya goes to another school for high school, embraces more punk aethsetics, and on the first day of the preliminary tournaments he hears the rumors about a high schooler in a gang, getting up to nasty things, and he decides to confront them. He finds Asahi, rants him out and leaves. The plot then follows canon, at the winter tournament Karasuno faces Dateko, Karasuno loses even more badly because Noya isn’t there. Asahi quits volleyball, BUT Asahi and Noya run into each other at the store and talk leading to friendship which leads to romance. Idk man, I want more punk haikyuu characters, it gives me life. Alt Yamaguchi is my favorite but onwards we go

Strawberry Blonde

!!!! So this is Mitski’s song and to give a vague idea this is a pining Kageyama fic where he tries to pull away from Hinata and that back fires. (I  do have more to say but I’ve been typing this for over an hour and I’m getting really tired fjkdaljl) There is one paragraph that I love, so here it is! Kageyama and Hinata are practicing by themselves outside of school and they are playing pepper (its a volleyball warm up practice routine where you partner up with someone pass, set, and spike the ball to each other sesquentially) Hinata goes to spike the ball and for a moment Kageyama sees it, 

They are at nationals and they made it to finals. The crowds are screaming, but everything except the court is thrown into shadows. They are at match point of the final set. Everything is at peak intensity and at the center is him. Flying in the air. Orange hair waving with the momentum. His loud take off echoing in the gym. Arm poised for the kill. Eyes sparking with ferocity and passion as he aims. And finally, tipping the world over is the loud slap of his hand, sending the ball to the far side of the court-

This was actually going to be finished and posted in time for Haikyuu season 4 coming out and the manga wrapping up.... clearly I failed my goal fjdaklfj

Sunspot

You don’t know this about me but I love royalty aus, and this is BokuAka Prince Akaashi and Knight Bokuto. This was a short snippet of this grand idea I have for them where they run away from Akaashi’s inherited destiny together. It has potential to be really wide and expansive with the differnet teams as different kingdoms (AGAIN ILLUSION OF CHOICE, that fic really influences me doesn’t it fjdskalj) But this was a short glance at Akaashi taking a break from studying and watching Bokuto and the other knights practice duel. The title comes from the fact that Bokuto is a sunspot in Akaashi’s life, and his day is substantially better basking in his golden shining light.

Merman au

I’m so glad you asked about this and its technically the one I’ve written the most for since it's actually the one I posted on my haikyuu writing side blog. But brief recap, long term it’s a BokuAka little mermaid au but instead of a sea witch it’s an underwater deity who makes “wishes” (it's a deal) with every royal who is born. And Akaashi has a lot of siblings: Ushijima, Oikawa, Suga, Terushima, and Hinata, and its in that order. So I have information on every sibling’s deal, what they wish for, what they give for it, what happens to them in the future, romantically and otherwise. But, this is the one I haven’t updated in over a year, I am working on it!! I’m currently on Koushi’s (suga’s) wish/deal, its just taking forever. If you want to learn more about it I’ll link it in parts  1  2  3  4

BUT I will work on Suga’s part and then Terushima’s and then to the meat of the idea with Akaashi. 

If you have made it this far, thanks, you are cool as always. My brain and fingers is ded. 

[lukn4inspo]

The One Where Sam Winchester Thinks He’s Jessica Rabbit

Summary: A thin layer of witchy plot to hang some humor, romance, and smut on for sherrybaby14’s Fall Into You Challenge. My prompt was “I’m going to gut you like a fish.”

 Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut happens, informed consent is sexy, biting cuz I like that sh*t, oral and manual sex, bit of knife kink showing through, I probably got weird with verb tenses

 A/N: If anyone wants to send me a good Sam pic or gif for this, that’d be cool.

 Word Count: 4100ish

There’s something calming about sharpening a knife. The wind and the soft rattle of dry leaves outside the hotel providing counterpoint to the sharp song of blade over stone. Since you know you’re safe, in a protected room you’re sharing with two of the best hunters you know, you let your mind drift. There’s magic in these moments of in between, when you’re both focused on what’s in front of you and letting your mind wander at the same time. This is the mindset best for casting spells. It’s both familiar and comforting. So when your temporary roommates open the door you barely look up, acknowledging their presence but staying in the moment.

 Until 6 foot plus of Winchester lands in your lap. “Umm…” True, you were friends and it wasn’t unusual for you to lose track of time and end up talking into the wee hours between helping each other with cases, but you weren’t really this kind of close. As a matter of fact, you didn’t think Sam was this kind of close with anyone. Yet, here he was, thighs across your lap and tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Mm, Y/N, I missed you.” Then he fucking nuzzles your face.

 “Umm…” He’s lazily caressing your collarbone, his cheek resting on the other hand, and gazing at you softly. With a sly little smile, he stretches his arms above his head and arches his back which strains the buttons of his white shirt. Oh so tempting, and he knows it too, judging by the look in his eye.

 “Umm, Sam? What’s going on?”

 “I just missed you. We were wrapping things up at the courthouse and it hit me all of a sudden how much I wanted to see you.” He’s peeping up at you through his lashes. Quite a feat since you’re over a foot shorter than him. “You’ve been working hard, I can tell.” This while he strokes a finger down the blade of your favorite knife. Damn, he has elegant hands. They give you all kinds of dirty thoughts. “Need me to get you anything? Let me get you a drink.”

 Before you can stammer about water he’s out of your lap and sashaying to the refrigerator. You know you’re not imagining the extra sway in his hips. Then the cocky fucker looks over his shoulder at you when he bends over far more than necessary to get a drink from the fridge.

 “Dean, is he drunk or something? What the hell is going on?” Dean was still standing in front of the closed door, apparently just as stunned by his brother’s odd behavior as you.

 “I don’t know but it’s funny as hell.”

 “Sam, you don’t usually act this way. What’s going on?” He sits back across your lap and starts massaging your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head despite the little kissy faces he’s making at you.

 “Don’t ruin this for me, Y/N,” Dean says. “This is prime blackmail material right here.”

“We’re on a case. You know this is probably magic.”

 Dean snorts. “At least it’s fun magic. Hey, he didn’t start acting weird ‘til we got here. Maybe it’s you.”

 “I’ve been in the room all morning working the witch angle. That’s the reason you guys called me in on this one.” Sam murmured in your ear how that was just one of the reasons and something about you being his favorite witch before nibbling at your neck. “Uhh,” you shiver. “He said he wanted to leave the courthouse so he could see me. Maybe someone was trying to throw you guys off the trail.”

 “Oh yeah, right. There was kind of a weird incident before we left.” Dean was openly smirking at your discomfiture. “He got flowers.”

 “Flowers?” Sam seemed content with his effect on you so he kept assaulting your neck while you tried to talk to Dean.

 “Well, technically they were for me. But when a pissed-off biker looking dude shows up with a bouquet of flowers with your name on ‘em, you don’t accept. Looks unprofessional. So naturally, I told him Sam was me.”

 “You bastard,” Sam chimes in. “Those weren’t my flowers?” He grumbles for a minute but is soon distracted by playing with your hair and gazing at your mouth.

 “Uh, no, Casanova.”

 “A bouquet can be a good medium for a love spell. Where is it?”

 “Still at the courthouse. He tried to get me to smell ‘em so I tossed ‘em in the trash and told him to get in the car.”

 “Go grab it and hurry back.”

 “Yeah. It’s getting a little disturbing in here.” Sam had the tip of his finger between his teeth and was gazing at you seductively.

 “And don’t smell them!”

 As soon the door closed behind Dean, Sam said, “Oh, thank God. Now we can be alone.” He takes your hand with the forgotten knife and drags it up his thigh then abdomen then chest. “Y’know these suits get so uncomfortable. Wanna help me with that?”

 He slips your blade through the threads holding the top button to the shirt and gasps in faux surprise as it rolls away. He continues to lead your hand down to loose the next button and the next. It’s a little hypnotic watching the shirt open bit by bit. It takes 3 buttons before you realize you should probably stop him. You tug your hand away and sheathe the blade but he seems not to notice. Just leans close to whisper how sexy that was. How he’d often thought about you cutting off his clothes because it’s so hot how good you are with a knife. Of all the times for your favorite vibrator to be broken. The man of your wet dreams is draped over you, sleeves rolled up over muscular forearms, a long sliver of skin showing down his chest and abs, detailing sex fantasies he’s had of you, and you can’t do a damn thing about it because he seems to be under a spell.

 “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” He bites his lip and gazes up at you through heavy lids. All this time getting to know each other, hoping that the budding romance you’re feeling is on both sides, has left you vulnerable to the way his voice sometimes goes soft and warm when he says your name. So of course your answer is “huh?”

 But he’s not deterred. He leans forward and you struggle back. “Wait! Wait. I think I need to freshen up. You don’t mind to wait here for me, do you Sam?” He languidly crawls off your lap.

 “Whatever you want, baby. I’ll be right here.” He winks as you rush to the bathroom. It’s tempting to stay in there until Dean gets back but you know it would be irresponsible to leave Sam unsupervised under the influence of magic. So you wash your face, take some deep breaths, and come up with a plan to not take advantage of the very attractive and handsy person who cannot consent right now. It’s weird but the silliness of his actions causes you to let your guard down more. Gotta watch that.

 As soon as you open the door, he’s on his feet and getting as close to you as possible. “Woah, Sam. Can we…slow things down? I’m not really comfortable going this fast.” That’s a complete lie. If he were in his right mind and being this forward, you’d both be halfway to orgasms right now.

 He takes a step back and smiles softly. “Of course.” He takes your hand and leads you to the couch where he can tuck you under his arm and fucking cuddle you. You melt. Motherfucker. “Let’s talk about the case, hmm? Tell me what you’ve figured out. I know you were letting your mind wander over it when we came in.”

 “I don’t know. It’s really inconsistent. If it is some kind of magic user they’re not very good. The traces I’ve felt were spotty. If it were an object it would have a specific purpose but that’s not what we’re seeing. And even if it were wild, undirected magic like a place that holds power it would work via influence. What we’ve been seeing is too specific for that.” His big hand sliding up and down your back is really soothing and makes it easier to express yourself.

 “So you’re thinking amateur witch, then?”

 “Yeah, I guess so. Maybe one with a specific strong gift. Didn’t fully realize that until I told you, though.”

 He smiles and lifts your chin. “We do make a good team that way.” When he leans in to kiss you it feels completely natural. It’s warm and lightly teasing, like he’s savoring the feel and taste of your mouth. But when he pulls back and lowers his gaze his face goes still. “Y/N, are you seeing someone?” You know that voice. He’s being very careful not to sound sad. You don’t understand until you look down. Your shirt has slipped down revealing a dark purple bruise on your breast.

 “No. Not at all. I just…needed to be touched by someone who gives a shit about me.” Oddly enough, you feel like you’re about to cry but you swallow it down. It’s hard to find people you can be close with when you’re a witch and you can’t just tell Sam you hoped he would touch you like that. Not right now, at least.

 “Hey, you don’t owe me any explanations. And I know a woman like you has to have plenty of men wanting her attention. I just didn’t want to keep flirting if you were already involved with someone else. You know I’m not that kind of guy.”

 “Yeah, I know that. No, he and I aren’t involved. We’re friends with occasional benefits, emphasis on the friends part.”

 “I don’t see how he could settle for occasional with you.”

 “We just don’t fit romantically.” Sam nods and pulls you into his arms again. God, it would be easy to fall in love with this man when he’s sitting here holding you like you’re important. It’s a good thing he can’t see your face while you work through that. Love is a scary thing. Love with a hunter doubly so. Dean opening the door is a welcome distraction.

 You hop up and take the bouquet from him. It’s all in autumn colors, dark rusty reds and oranges and little accents of black, mostly wildflowers. The spell seems to be on the flowers but not coming from them. The witch didn’t know how to anchor it properly because the magic has already dissipated quite a bit. Still you strengthen your protections before taking a light sniff. Some of the ingredients are recognizable and you can tell it’s well made and expensive.

 You pluck the card. It reads ‘Be brave, shy guy. ---Sparkles’ in flowing cursive. At the very bottom of the card is a business name, Bethany’s Bouquets.

 “Definitely a potion but it’s a waste the way they used it. Whoever it is doesn’t know what they’re doing. Let’s go check out this florist and,” you check the card again, just to be sure, “Sparkles.”

 “Smart women are so hot,” Sam murmurs as he puts a hand on your waist. You can’t help but blush a bit at that one.

 “Let me take the lead, yeah?”

 “Hey, you’re the witch expert.” When you pile into the car Sam sits in the back with you and puts his arm around you again. He’s pretty well behaved, much more toned down since you asked him to go slower, but he stills untucks his shirt and opens it all the way with the excuse that he’s way too hot. Highly unlikely on a crisp October day, but whatever. You grin and shake your head. This’ll be over soon anyway.

 Dean follows you into the shop but Sam stays by the car since he’s ‘under the influence.’

 “Welcome to Bethany’s Bouquets!” greets a cheery voice from behind a counter. “Can I help you?”

 “Absolutely. You can tell me what makes your bouquets so special.” You put a hint of Power in your voice and watch her reaction closely but she shows no sign of understanding and no spark of Power in response, just puzzlement at your question.

 “Wellllll, as you can see we carry a wide array of flowers. Vibrant tropicals, soft English roses,” she indicates different sections of the store. “And seasonal arrangements.”

 “Yes, those. My friend received a seasonal bouquet from your shop today. Whatever substance was on it made him sick.”

 “What?! Oh, my goodness! Is he okay? We just mist the flowers with plain water before we send them out. Here. See? Nothing anyone should be allergic to.” She hands you a mister bottle from under the counter. You sniff it but you already know she’s not the one. You brushed her hand as you took the bottle and there was not a trace of magic on her.

 “Who else would have handled them?” asks Dean. He’s still in his suit and has his serious professional face on. He even pulls out the badge. “Cuz I’m not a big fan of people trying to drug my partner.” He waves toward the car where Sam is leaning back with his shirt open and face tipped to the sun, looking like a damn model.

 “Drugs?!” she screeches. “I don’t ---- but --- that doesn’t make any sense.”

 “Who’s Sparkles?” you ask firmly, taking advantage of her flustered state.

 “They didn’t do anything,” comes a voice from deeper in the store. Your hand goes to your knife and Dean’s to his gun. The guy steps around the corner. Sheepish is a funny expression on a weathered, bearded guy in a leather vest. “It’s okay, baby,” he puts his arm around Bethany’s shoulders and squeezes. “Bethany and Sparkles had nothing to do with it.” Bethany is shell-shocked but firms her jaw up quickly at that.

 “What did you do, Herbert?”

 Herbert? is surprisingly forthcoming. He got the potion secondhand. A friend of his saw how unhappy he was and passed on a potion she’d bought from a bruja, saying it changed her life. It was to help her go after what she wanted. Thing is, it was made specifically for her. So when Herbert used it on himself to court Bethany, she was surprised by how sensitive and ‘in touch with women’ he was. For them, it worked. But when he decided to share his good fortune with others by spraying it on the flowers, he wasn’t too careful about the instructions.

 Too big a dose inhaled from flowers made the magic hit hard and fast. So Tony, who liked to complain about not getting the promotion he worked so hard for (he didn’t actually work that hard or want it that bad) chased an ice cream truck into traffic because that’s what he really wanted at the time. Carla truly did want a family of her own…so she tried to buy her friend’s child, and when they wouldn’t sell, she tried to kidnap the baby instead. Mr. Burroughs, the English teacher who quit his job of 21 years in such a dramatic fashion that he was committed for a nervous breakdown, just wanted to feel appreciated. Mrs. Bailey, who they didn’t know about, was being divorced by her husband of 50 years because she wanted to spice up their love life. He caught her in their garage with a prostitute, in a very compromising and surprising position. You can only hope to be so flexible at that age. There were a few harmless cases mixed in, as well. Herbert’s generosity with his new power is what drew your attention initially. So many people in such a little town acting strange. Something was up. Sparkles’ order was the last ‘special’ one. He’d met ‘some guy who looked like a Ken doll’ that he was absolutely certain wanted him but was too shy to take a chance. Herbert strongly suggested he send flowers to the object of his affection.

 When he’s done telling his story, you hand him a little glass vial and demand some of his spit and hair. He sputters but you insist and Bethany hadn’t stopped glaring at him so he caves. You hold his gaze as you take the bottle and yank it back, using magic to pull his body forward to where your favorite knife waits in your other hand. You hold him immobile as you make a shallow slice in his neck and drip the blood off your blade into the bottle.

 “What are you going to do to make it right?” you ask softly.

 “I don’t know how.”

 “Seems the most believable option is to confess to drugging those people. That way they can get their lives back. And you’ll be responsible for Tony’s medical bills.”

 He lets out a big breath. “I can do that.”

 “Good. And Herbert? If you ever make me come back here, I’m going to gut you like a fish.” You clean your bloodied blade on his shirt and walk away, not releasing him until you are all in the car and on the road.

 Dean lets you and Sam have the room to yourselves so you can remove the spell on him and nullify the potion in the bottle without distractions. Sam makes sure to mention how proud he is that you figured it out and took care of the culprit.

 “Heart melting bastard,” you grouse. He frowns but sits still and quiet while you do your work. When you finally finish with the bottle you sigh and flop onto your back. It’s clear that Sam was released from the effects by the way he hops up to change his shirt and keeps clearing his throat.

 “Dean is never gonna let me live this down,” he sighs.

 “You could always threaten to give his number to Sparkles,” you say with a gleam in your eye. That definitely catches his attention. And when you tell him Sparkles said Dean looked like a Ken doll, he full on laughs. You fill him in on the rest of what happened so by the time you’re done he isn’t too embarrassed to look you in the eye anymore.

 “So, I feel like an idiot,” he says.

 “Yeah, me too.”

 “Why? I was the one acting foolish.”

 “I was the one drooling, though.”

 “I thought I was going too fast and you weren’t comfortable with that.”

 “Pfft, I just said that cuz I wasn’t about to take advantage of someone under the influence.” He stares at you for a moment before nodding.

 “Good to know. Will you come out with me tonight, then?”

 “Of course. Where to?” He beams.

 “You’ll see. Wear something cute and comfy.” Sam waves his brother into the room.

 “How you feeling there, Jessica Rabbit?”

 “Why don’t you ask Sparkles how he’s feeling, shy guy?”

 “…shuddup.”

 “I’ve got some things to do right now but find your own dinner tonight. Y/N and I have plans.” Dean catcalls him out the door then wiggles his eyebrows at you.

 A while later you’re on a soft, thick blanket having a picnic in a clearing surrounded by maples in all their fall glory. Any worries you’d had that things would be awkward have vanished. It’s like the amateur biker witch never happened and this date thing just occurred naturally. Afterward Sam drives you to another spot where there’s water tripping down a little stream so you can show him a bit of water magic you’ve been practicing.

 “That’s amazing!” he exclaims as the reflections on the surface interact with your touch as if they are the objects themselves. By the time it gets dark you find yourself leaning back against Sam who’s sitting on the hood of the car with his legs splayed around you. It’s just like those late night phone conversations you’ve had except you’re absently scratching patterns on his thighs while you talk and laugh. His chin is resting on your shoulder, one hand at your waist, and the other stroking back and forth above your knee.

 Eventually, you’re just sitting quietly together, enjoying the peace and the closeness. Your breath stops when you feel a warm press of lips against your vulnerable neck. Then there’s another higher up. And another. Your breath leaves with a little sigh. You turn your head and watch his lips drift toward yours and sink into you. Light, sweet flavor of peaches on your tongue from earlier. The small noises you make seem to urge him on and he intensifies the connection, squeezing higher up your thigh under your skirt seeking deeper in your mouth with his tongue. Then he leaves your mouth for your neck again, kissing that tender spot in front of your ear on the way. One hand is now under your shirt stroking your belly and the other is slowly working up to the crease of your thigh.

 “Tease,” you breathe.

 “Oh? Is there something you need?” You roll your hips back against him and he groans quietly.

 “Nah. You?”

 “Mmmmm,” he replies but his fingers have reached the seam of your panties and now he’s pushing under them, pressing his fingertips through your warm, wet lips. You drop your head back onto his shoulder and just enjoy the feeling of him around you. Firm heat behind you, hand squeezing your breast and flirting with the top of your bra, the slow push so his fingers are all the way inside your pussy and the heel of his hand presses into your clit. You moan and buck forward but he pulls you back hard to his chest grinds his hard dick into your soft ass. Then he grips your right leg and pulls it across his, leaving you standing on one foot with your legs spread. “Yeah, baby. Open up for me.”

 When he pushes his fingers back in he gets deeper. His hand has gotten slippery from alternately finger fucking you and grinding over your clit. It’s so deep you can’t help but squirm but he keeps holding you to him with his left arm across your chest, hand resting over your heart. He’s murmuring quietly but you can’t tell what he’s saying. The fact that he doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it is ridiculously hot.

 “Fuck, Sam! Bite me!” He does so without hesitation and you come hard. Before you can gather your wits he flips you onto your back on the hood of the car and cuts clean through the crotch of your panties with a knife he produced from who knows where. He buries his face between your legs like he’s been holding it back this whole time and you come again all over his mouth.

 He’s panting when he lifts you up for a kiss. “Need to get you in a bed. Need you to touch me.” You’re past words at this point so you just slide a hand down his pants into his boxers and wrap your fingers around his warm, hard cock. “Ah!” He jerks as you lightly drag them up, around the head, down, over his balls. He can’t seem to get his pants down fast enough but when he sees your hand on him for the first time he groans and presses a hard, desperate kiss into your mouth. He rests his forehead against yours and watches, hissing and sighing at the way you touch him. Before long his noises are getting louder and deeper and he wraps his hand around yours. He jacks the tip of his cock hard and fast with your hand and comes with your name in his mouth. It makes your whole body shiver.

 Once he’s calmed down enough he produces the knife again and cuts your panties off so he can use them to clean your hands. Then you’re wrapped up in his arms and held close, like you’re someone to be treasured. It makes you feel a little stunned and a little heartsore, but in a good way.

 “This is it. This is what I wanted. Just like this.”

 “What?”

 “Just to be close to you. No barriers, no case in the way. Just me and you. I want it all the time, actually.” You bury your face in his neck where his collar and his hair hold his scent the strongest. It feels safe here.

 “Sam,” you breathe against his skin. And he understands it for the yes that it is.

@sherrybaby14

[weakeninghope]

New romantic sailors

Pairing: Pannacotta Fugo/Narancia Ghirga

Rating: Teen

AO3 link here

Summary:  That’s right. Narancia Ghirga has a crush on Pannacotta Fugo. Has had one since they met. Since he got to know the silver-haired.They’ve argued more than once; Narancia’s ended up pointing his knife at the other a few times, Fugo has even stabbed him with a fork one day they started talking about famous actors and Narancia couldn’t even name one right because he kept messing up their names and Fugo lost his temper… but Narancia doesn’t mind.

Notes:  

Hello! It's me again

I really wanted to write for days two and three, but I didn't have any ideas, so have this instead. I combined two prompts for day four: Study and First Kiss.

Sorry for the OOC and the mistakes (I'm Spanish so English isn't my first language) and I hope you've enjoyed this!

Twitter: Shirotxpoison Tumblr: weakeninghope

Comments and kudos are much appreciated <3

fic under the cut!

“Man” Narancia says “This sucks, I don’t wanna keep going” He finishes with an exasperated sigh to which Fugo answers with an eyeroll. They’ve been stuck with the same math problem for an hour, and both of them are tired already. Narancia curses having suggested this.

It was Mista’s idea. Narancia and Mista have had this kind of friendship since they met a few months ago. They spend their time together lazily on Mista’s bed, eating popcorn, watching terrible movies, commenting them (because Mista can’t shut the fuck up, and honestly, Narancia can’t either). But Mista’s ridiculously scared of horror movies and he screams at every fucking jumpscare, and his pistols are always trying to calm him, or laughing at him, or crying (poor number five), so Narancia has no other option but to laugh. Spending time with Mista is fun.

They also have the kind of “talk about your crush” friendship. Mista just talks about how cute women are in general and how you have to respect them because if you don’t that automatically makes you an asshole (he’s right), but Narancia has… other interests.

One particular interest. A particular silver-haired with red eyes and strawberry earrings.

That’s right. Narancia Ghirga has a crush on Pannacotta Fugo. Has had one since they met. Since he got to know the silver-haired.

They’ve argued more than once; Narancia’s ended up pointing his knife at the other a few times, Fugo has even stabbed him with a fork one day they started talking about famous actors and Narancia couldn’t even name one right because he kept messing up their names and Fugo lost his temper… but Narancia doesn’t mind.

Okay, he does mind. No one stabs Narancia Ghirga with a fork and gets away with it, not after Narancia having had to cope with his bastards of friends using him and treating him as if he was an idiot. Since then, and ever since he joined the mob, Narancia’s learned to fight for his pride. Fugo has had an important role in that.

In the first few missions of the gang when Narancia was present, he was just used as backup, or sometimes, even gotten left out of the mission because his eye was still healing or because he was a novice and Bucciarati, always loyal, caring Bucciarati, didn’t want to risk his life. But Narancia wanted to fight. Wanted to prove that he was valuable. That he wasn’t what his father or his fake friends believed him to be.

But Fugo changed that. Fugo lifted his confidence up. When his eye healed, Fugo told Bucciarati to let Narancia fight. That he could do it.

Fugo was the first one to believe in Narancia. Fugo was the one who saved him. And since that day, Narancia has done anything but admire him and start to look at him noticing all the tiny details. Not only about his personality, but about his physique as well.

When they fought together, Narancia could feel the thrill running through his veins and Fugo’s. Could see the younger’s little smirk when they fought against an enemy and he knew that he had luck on his side. Could notice how slender he look, how pale, how ethereal. Could notice the sound of his voice, could listen to the melodic sound of their footsteps combined when they won against an enemy and were returning home together. Could get engaged in silly conversations with him when they were alone and make him laugh with his nonsense.

In a short span of time, Fugo’s laugh became Narancia’s favorite sound (Mista’s yells at horror moives were a close second, but nothing could top Fugo’s laugh). Fugo’s laugh ranged from a polite chuckle, to a dark, short laugh when he thought he was going to beat the enemy’s ass up, to a sad, sarcastic laugh when he had a bad day, to an explosive, contagious laughter that day when Narancia spilled orange juice on himself. Narancia really was preparing himself to be stabbed, but instead, Fugo’s laughter bubbled out of his chest like a volcano erupting, unstoppable, getting louder and louder, blessing Narancia’s ears. Fugo’s eyes wrinkled a bit and became blurry with some tears after having laughed for a good five minutes. Narancia also noticed Fugo’s little blushes when he complimented him. Everything in Fugo was so, so cute.

Which brought him to the crush talk with Mista. That was when Mista suggested that Fugo was probably into him as well. Quoting Mista’s words “Fugo seems like the type to be attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses only, and you are one, so you two are a perfect match”.

Narancia then asked Mista for a way to get closer to Fugo, and Mista suggested tutoring sessions, since it would also be good for Narancia because he wanted to school someday. At first, Narancia had thought that it was a good idea, so he accepted without giving it a second thought.

But the first day of tutoring was a nightmare.

“You were the one to suggest this, Narancia.” Fugo sighed. He looked as tired as Narancia, but it wasn’t as if he was going to lose control, he was exhausted, he didn’t have enough energy to get angry at Narancia and pull a violent stunt against him or something like that.

“Yeah… I was…” Because I wanted to get closer to you. Because I like you a lot, you can’t even imagine how.

“I was thinking… what if you give me a reward?” Narancia asked. He was going to be brave. He was going to ask for a kiss.

“What reward? You haven’t completed one single problem yet and you’re asking me for a reward? I would get angry at you if I had the energy to, you’re lucky you’ve wasted all of it.” Fugo concluded, his palm supporting his head, looking intently at Narancia. God Narancia thought his

eyes are so beautiful, I could easily get lost in them.

“I need some motivation” Narancia said. Heat was starting to rush onto his cheekbones. “W-what if you… you know… k-kiss me?” He couldn’t believe he was stuttering like a highschool girl, but he was in front of his crush and he had just asked for a kiss, after all!

“…” Silence.

“Fugo?”…

“…”

“Are you here with me?”

“I SAID FINE!” He rose his voice. And his head, since he had hidden it in the table in between his arms. When he looked at Narancia, he could see that he was equally as flushed.

“Okay…” Narancia said.

“But get closer to me, maybe?” Narancia suggested.

Fugo scooted closer to Narancia and brought his chair next to him.

“You’re so stiff, Fugo. And you’re blushing~” Narancia teased, even though he didn’t have the right to since he was flustered as well.

“Oh, come on! You’re blushing too!” Fugo exclaimed.

“So you like me?” Narancia kept teasing, raising his eyebrow. Try to flirt. Remain calm. You’re going to kiss your crush but everything is okay.

“You’re the one who suggested the kissing, you like me.” Fugo stated, clearly nervous. He didn’t know what to say or how to act.

“Shuddup and kiss me.”

And as fast as he said it, it happened. Narancia didn’t even have time to close his eyes. He just felt a press of lips, thin as a feather, gone in a second. Narancia didn’t have time to process if it had felt good, because he barely felt it.

“Fugo…”

“What.”

“You call that a kiss?”

“If you can do it better than me, then I dare you!” Fugo exclaimed, beet red. They were both embarrassed, but someone had to take the lead, and it was going to be Narancia.

So Narancia brought one hand to cradle Fugo’s jaw and the other to tangle itself in the back of Fugo’s head, caressing his soft, silver locks. When Fugo and Narancia’s lips pressed together, Narancia felt it everything. At first he was petrified; Fugo’s lips were too soft, he didn’t know what to do, so he thought about Mista’s advices. Move you lips slowly, give the other time to adapt to your movements, caress the other so they know that you’re doing this because you like them, because you want them to feel good; and it seemed to work, because as soon as Narancia started slowly moving his lips against Fugo’s, Fugo reciprocated and their lips starting slotting against each other, fitting perfectly like puzzle pieces. Fugo’s hands, at first resting nervously on the table, came to hold Narancia’s waist. After about a minute of this, Narancia was surprised to feel something wet prodding at his bottom lip. It was Fugo’s tongue asking for entrance, and Narancia complied immediately.

When Fugo’s tongue entered his mouth, the kiss took a new dimension. At first Fugo’s tongue was shy, but when it encountered Narancia’s and they shyly and quietly tangled together, wet sounds started filling the room and Narancia started feeling brave, amazing, as if he had accomplished his dream. Because he had accomplished his dream. Here he was, making out with his crush. He didn’t want it to stop, but they eventually had to part for air.

Fugo gasped and panted against his mouth, and after what it felt like an eternity, he spoke.

“Now you feel motivated to keep going with your math?” He asked.

“Nah, I prefer to kiss and cuddle on the couch.”

“Deal.”

[wernerherzogs]

there it is, finally! the list of my favourite hl fics of All Time.

disclaimer: some of these i have read only once and forever ago, but i’ve got them saved in a folder, and i vaguely remember them Meaning something to me when i read them, but basically -- if you read something from this list and end up not enjoying it, sorry not sorry! i operate on nostalgia sometimes, it’s possible i wouldn’t be that into some of them now, too, but whatevs!

i made myself stick to one work per author, otherwise this would be endless, but if an author’s nickname is bolded, it means i’ve had the time to read all of their works, and recommend them all.

i’m fairly certain i’m forgetting stuff (especially those stories that i’ve never saved/bookmarked), so i’ll try to keep this updated fairly regularly -- whenever i remember an old fave, or fall in love with something new. i’ll make sure to reblog this post then.

the order is completely random. this is a list where every work carries equal significance, even if not always for the same reasons. it was supposed to be alphabetical, but turns out i’m far too lazy for that. (shocker.) i took the liberty of shortening some of the original summaries, because this post is going to be Too Long anyway. rip.

enjoy! hopefully.

***

blackjacks running down my back | sequel by dangerbears (+ lj) (~10,000) 

AU. university stuff. best friend stuff. music stuff. sappy stuff.

try to not remember (rather than forget) by hereforlou (59,602)

He hadn’t left, but that’s what it had felt like most of the time. Just as if one day Harry had up and left him.

(Or, the one where Harry wakes up.)

Like Real People Do by moodlighting (58,469)

Harry is Louis' soulmate but Louis isn't Harry's - it takes Harry a while to figure it all out.

a prayer for which no words exist by Eliane (34,313)

Louis is a few seconds away from blowing up a rather important section of the New York subway when he sees Harry for the first time.

Who Painted the Moon Black by throughthedark (requires an ao3 account) (95,697)

“People died,” Harry whispers so quietly Louis strains to hear. “People died, and I killed some of them. How does life just go on after something like that?”

Louis shakes his head. “I don't know. It just does.”

hold on to your stars before they fade by adelagia (31,740)

The first time they meet, it is sunrise, and Harry is naked.

(Or, the one where Harry is a lost fairy, and Louis takes him in.)

Lambing Season by HelloAmHere (24,544)

“Shut up,” Louis says, an involuntary grin tugging at his mouth. It’s not every boy who will stand in the middle of a cold barn in a suit and play musician trivia. “I’m Louis.”

//lambing season brings sleep deprivation, noisy alarms, cold barns, demanding animals, and warm strangers.

Wild And Unruly by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews (123,655)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy (149,570)

A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

the dead things we carry by MediaWhore (25,316)

“Oh,” Mrs. Padley says, clearly taken aback. “You two know each other?”

There are some things people never fully come home from. Until, one day, if they’re lucky, home comes to them.

i believe him when he tells of loving me by bitterlee (28,894)

louis doesn't remember harry. harry takes him home.

Come Along With Me by darkofthenights (28,032) (requires an ao3 account)

An AU where Harry is a magician and Louis doesn't believe in such a thing.

Dust Off My Wings by eravain (19,882) (+ download)

AU where the boys are cottage neighbours, Louis develops an obsession with the mysterious boy next door, and the end of summer is really just the start of everything else.

Boys of Summer by sharktoothedfawnskinned (49,545)

What he wants is for this to be a forever thing, not someplace Harry spent the summer once.  What he wants is for this to be more than a memory.

(New Jersey beach town AU.)

ever ever after by hattalove (22,645)

“Happily ever after, huh?” he can’t help asking, in a voice that’s softer than he’d like. Harry seems to sense the fragility of the moment. He settles down, containing the excited flailing of his hands, and mirrors Louis’s position. “Of course,” he says. “Don’t you have those here?” Louis bites his lip. “M’ afraid not. It doesn’t really work out that way for most people.”

or, an enchanted AU. sort of.

heroes of the orange skies by queenmcgonagall (30,656)

Louis likes bathroom walls and Sharpies, Harry likes metal, Zayn likes Liam and Liam likes Zayn, Niall is wise, and they all go to the zoo.

Empty Skies by green_feelings (134,048)

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.

Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

nocturne in silver and blue by tinyweirdloves (97,594)

louis is a fallen star and harry brings him home. told over the course of fourteen years.

life does not go backward, nor does it tarry in yesterday by bottomlinsons (4568)

Louis and Harry are Knights of the Round Table and Camelot has a dragon problem. (Arthurian AU)

In This Light by exhilarated (99,234)

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

our little corner of the world by brownheadedstranger (29,913)

AU. Louis is stuck in his mom's diner for the summer. Harry is the line cook with a pickup truck.

Every Arrow That I Aim Is True by estrella30 (24,890)

Louis doesn’t say anything again so Harry whispers, “Just stay here with me for a while, yeah? I’ll take care of you.”

Louis is quiet. He never picks his head up, but Harry can see the pillow move from where he’s nodding and his fingers tighten around Harry’s. “Yeah,” Louis says. “Yeah, all right.”

i'm not calling you a liar (just don't lie to me) by hazmesentir (33625) (requires an ao3 account)

Louis can't stop lying. Harry runs a farm. Somehow, he squeezes the truth out of him.

An Eternal Enigma by goldenquill (67,478) (+ download)

Louis is a reluctant king with a head full of fairy tales, and Harry is an emotionally challenged musical prodigy. Zayn is a hopelessly romantic painter, Liam is the castle’s resident ghost with sporadic amnesia, and Niall is the accidental head of the kingdom’s most prevalent spy ring. Very loosely based on the lives of Ludwig II of Bavaria and Richard Wagner.

all my love was down in a frozen ground by navigator (16,033)

Louis goes to the woods.

AU very loosely inspired by the creation of Bon Iver's first record.

walk my days on a wire by sunshiner (38,586)

“We’re here because we have inventive managers,” Louis says, giving Harry’s leg a little nudge with his knee, but all that’s going around in his head is, I think I'd be in the same spot in every possible universe.

or, when actor Louis Tomlinson used to daydream about dating Harry Styles, this is not what he had in mind.

take my hand (and my heart and soul) by bananasandboots (45,623)

"I – yeah. Hi," Louis finally answers, slowly, awkwardly. "I um. Sorry. I heard about your accident. You're alright?"

Or, the one where Harry hasn't spoken to his best friend in sixteen months and can't remember why.

These Inconvenient Fireworks by wontsitstill (190,000) (+ download)

Future AU in which nobody tries out for X Factor but the boys end up finding one another eventually anyway. Louis is a jaded bastard who owns a cat named Duchess and teaches drama to teenagers, Harry is an idealistic aspiring photographer/part-time footy coach, Zayn teaches English lit and wears leather jackets, Liam saves people from burning buildings, and Niall is Niall.

things have gotten closer to the sun by starseas (49,276)

when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

Harry Styles Cooks... by sunsetmog (ongoing)

In which Louis Tomlinson can’t cook, there’s a very special shower curtain, and Harry Styles used to be a baker.

Or: Louis owns all of Harry Styles’ cookbooks, and he never intends to cook a single thing out of any of them.

101 Uses For Dragon Eggs by colazitron (42,249)

Louis just got back from a three week assignment yesterday and today was only supposed to be paperwork he needs to do to finish that up, before he was going to leave early and enjoy the weekend. And then Zayn, the traitor, emailed him about a bloke who was rumoured to have found a dragon egg and apparently live tweeting the whole thing.

Don't Want Shelter by FullOnLarrie (ongoing)

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

Escapade by dolce_piccante (requires an ao3 account) (146,241) (+ download)

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

Whether Clouds or Clear Skies by onewasturning (25,861)

“Harry,” Louis says, “last night I had an experience bordering on profound.”

“You’re making it sound like you did something sexual with my muffin,” Harry says.

Or, Louis gets into the habit of stealing baked goods while Harry’s busy keeping tabs on the weather.

the dead of july by whimsicule (117,446)

Being an Avenger means continuing to be Captain America and smiling and being honorable for the public and Harry does his best. But it doesn’t give him time to figure out who he is supposed to be once he takes off his uniform and puts the shield to the side. Just being Harry had always involved Louis, and Harry fears he doesn’t know how to exist without him.

or: Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

In the Clear by aclosetlarryshipper (80,751)

After Princess Gemma and her fiance Niall are captured by the witch from across the land, Harry and Louis are forced on a journey together to save them.

Featuring Lumberjack Liam, Magical Zayn, unsolicited tattoos, and untangling the past.

Also known as The Larrietale.

a house built out of stone by robpatFF (22,486)

Louis has a used bookshop and Harry has a habit of claiming things that don't belong to him.

out of the blue corner by fallingaway (85,422)

Louis is a boxer banned because of doping. Harry is a journalist following the story.

with your love we could breathe underwater by luminescents (28,542)

Harry’s brow furrows, a look of confusion spreading over his face. “But I am real. I exist, see,” he says, raising a hand out of the water and wiggling his fingers at Louis.

AU where Harry is a mermaid, Louis is a human, and they both discover a lot more than they anticipated.

dancing in the dark by clairdeloune (74,709)

Harry comes out and it brings more than he's expected.

Untangle Me by suicxne (103,000) (requires an ao3 account)

Or the one where Harry and Louis finally get it right.

California Sold by isthatyoularry (123,536)

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

you came into my life by disgruntledkittenface (57,180)

When the Queer Eye cast and crew sweep into Louis’ small town and fire station to make over his best friend and coworker Liam, Louis’ carefully constructed walls start to fall down and he has to face his fears – and the only guy he’s ever been able to see a future with.

like cabbages and kings by you_explode (60,875)

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland.

Loyal Knight and True by rainbowninja167 (51,569)

Oh, Harry thinks, mouth open on a silent gasp. This is how it happens.

In contemporary Oxford, Harry Styles and Niall Horan run a magical bookshop, unbowed by an entire academic establishment that insists magic doesn't even exist.

for now (and forever) by orphan_account (sadly can’t remember the actual author) (83,283)

"Listen to yourself," Harry laughs, shaking Louis' shoulders. "Don't you think it's a bit weird to con the country you're supposed to be serving?"

Louis is going into the Army, Harry is going nowhere, and there's nothing like a little identity fraud between friends.

Say You'll Remember by whisperdlullaby (93,521)

au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they're also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.

takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.

Faking It by TheCellarDoor (46,173)

A uni AU in which Louis has been Harry’s best friend since he offered him cubed fruit on the playground, and they spend more time cuddling in their dorm beds than they do apart, but it’s not like that. Or is it?

Battle Cry by Velvetoscar (21,377)

Harry's got a heart, a soul, and a band. And with that, obviously, comes a future paved in great success, right? So all he has to do is win the Battle of the Bands, right? Simple.

What's not so simple is the fact that Louis Tomlinson is his biggest competition. And also happens to be made of everything that Harry's ever wanted.

Take Me Where I Cannot Stand by LoadedGunn (13,988)

Harry can agree that being husbands in space presents some challenges. Sometimes they have to escape mindless cannibals, sometimes they're being held hostage, sometimes Louis doesn't want Harry to get pregnant, and sometimes someone slips on a banana peel. But that's all part of the fun, isn't it? They could have been juggling geese.

(Firefly AU where Harry and Louis are co-pilots in life.)

Just Me, You, And This Box of Matches by tomlinsunshine (87,020) (requires an ao3 account)

Louis is fairly sure that his new neighbour is going to destroy him. And also their apartment building, and the dumpsters outside, and all the forests within a thirty mile radius. But. Mostly him.

you're an egg if im an egg by giraffesaretall (1252)

au where one direction are eggs.