#sorry if this one looks a bit weird I'm a bit under the weather

[avoidcrowdraws]

An invitation that Chilchuck definitely thought through properly and won't become a problem or anything

The plot progresses

Relevant post from earlier

[sweetteainthesummerx]

it's nice to have a friend !

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairings: jack hughes x shy!reader, jack hughes x bsf!reader, nico hischier x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

warnings: mutual pining, fluff

summary: you gain a best friend and a lover, all in one !

song: it's nice to have a friend by taylor swift

word count: 3.3 k

notes: I love me a reformed bad boy! this is based on this request: here. I hope you like it!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

school bell rings, walk me home, sidewalk chalk covered in snow, lost my gloves, you give me one

"are you okay, miss?" a voice asks from behind you, and you jump.

it's a boy. he's real pretty, features the perfect balance between masculine built and delicate feminine.

you're so sure that you're fifty shades of red right now, but he smiles kindly at you.

"sorry, it's just you look really cold." he points at your hands, and the fact that your teeth are chattering.

you realize that you're still silent.

you hate that you're so painfully shy. it's especially hard after you moved from your hometown for work, where the little amount of friends had to bid you goodbye with worry.

sure, you talk to your coworkers, but it's not the same.

"I-i'm okay." you try to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

jack, you find out his name is, was raised by his mother to never leave a lady in distress (you almost laugh at that). he offers you his gloves, still warm from his own hands. you thank him quietly, and he grins wide, "you're welcome, sweetheart."

the sidewalk is still covered in snow, but he walks you back to your apartment building, where the two of you find out something else you have in common: you're practically neighbours.

he lives only 4 or 5 doors down from you.

he drops you off, brushing your fingers with his own bigger ones as he tells you to come find him if you need anything at all.

as he watches you enter the safety and warmth of your own apartment, he frowns.

why would he do that? normally he wouldn't care about this kind of stuff, but you looked so cold and down.

so when you offered him that sweet, shy smile, he melts despite the cold jersey weather.

it's weird, because you're very pretty, but he doesn't have the itch to fuck you and leave you.

he wants to know why you're here, what you do, you're favourite colour.

his phone dings with the notification of some instagram model he met up with a week ago. he sighs, turning back from his own door to go meet her.

for some reason, he doesn't want to go.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

"wanna hang out?", yeah, sounds like fun, video games, you pass me a note

you bite your lip, and retract your hand once more. you want to knock, but you...

just do it! you tell yourself, and you knock quickly, wincing.

a boy who is decidedly not jack answers the door.

"uh, hi?" he's tall, with curly hair and a lanky body.

you freeze up a little.

fortunately, jack pops up from behind.

he calls your name, with excitement and surprise. it makes something warm bloom in your chest.

"I brought you guys cookies?" it comes out more like a question, "I brought you guys cookies, because you walked me home last week."

normally, luke would be teasing his older brother - and the fact he was cheesing like an idiot still - but he smells the cookies first.

to your surprise, the younger boy grabs you by the wrist to drag you into the apartment, thanking you for the baked goods.

he offers you a hug, introducing himself.

you're a bit unnerved, but he's so cute, like a little puppy that you hug him back, patting his shoulder while stifling a smile. he reminds you a bit of your own little brother.

jack pouts. no way luke got a hug before him. so he sidles up to you, tucking you under his arm.

"wanna hang out with us? we're playing video games."

you don't know much, but you do know you like how he's looking at you, all soft brown eyes and crooked smile.

so you tuck yourself into the couch.

you find out a lot about both of them: they're brothers who play for the same nhl team - impressive - they can finish a whole batch of cookies in 20 minutes, and they have lots of friends.

people start popping up into the apartment, nico, johnny and so many more large, kind boys who hug you in greeting.

you almost don't mind, especially when jack texts you from across the room.

he's watching you from the kitchen where you're speaking in choppy german to nico. he's worried, because the first time he met you, you were so shy and shaking in your boots.

you all good? I can walk you home if the boys are tiring you out

you look up, a small grin on your face as you shake your head at him.

you look so at home on his couch with his friends, that something blind and unfamiliar stirs in his stomach. he ignores an incoming text from the instagram model he met up with, in favour to watch nico explain german grammar to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

light pink sky up on the roof, sun sinks down, no curfew, twenty questions, we tell the truth

jack thinks you're an angel. he'd come back to the apartment after a really hard game, battered and bruised. you show up to his door like you have been for a while, sometimes when it's just the two of you, sometimes when many of the boys are there.

this time, you're holding a bag in your hands. he sighs as he opens the door, falling into your arms.

"oh-! jack, you're too heavy!" you exclaim, trying to hold his weight. he pouts, leading you to the couch. he pushes you down gently, and you let him.

he snuggles up to you, head cradled by your chest.

he waits for you to coo and fuss over him, because you're just so kind and he finds this unprecedented comfort in you.

you feel like home, despite only knowing him for a few months.

"you okay?" you ask, and he pushes his head into your hands. you smile, getting the message.

you finally scratch his head, and he practically purrs. he settles into you, full weight like a thick blanket as you push through his hair with your nails.

"there you go," you murmur, quiet and loving. he thinks you'd be a good mom someday, and his heart twists when he thinks of you with someone else, making a home.

"can you scratch my back?" he knows he's being whiny, but you brush your thumb over his cheek and nod.

you're about to slip your hand under his shirt, but he sits up, tugging it over his head and returning to you like he always seems to do these days.

he slides his arms under your back, rubbing his head to your stomach.

you flush red, something unfamiliar spiking through your blood. he's all thick, soft muscles, unlike the vanity ones you see on some guys. raw, simple strength to take the hits and deliver them in his sport.

he's so handsome.

you scratch your nails down his back and he shivers.

"cold?" you hum, but he shakes his head.

after a while, he lets you get up because your legs are numb.

"you're too heavy," you grin again, and he complains that you're calling him fat.

he's ridiculous, with his abs under soft skin and big biceps. he still hasn't put his shirt back on.

"so, what's in the bag?" he asks, and you brighten up.

you dump it out on to the couch: it's face masks, eye masks and skin care.

"I like to relax with this, so I thought maybe you would like it?" you ask shyly, "we don't have to-"

"no!" jack exclaims, throwing everything into the bag and standing, "I want to. see what the hype is about."

he's seen the cute couple pictures online with the girl doing the guy's skincare; something about you suggesting it makes his feel ten feet tall.

so that's how he ends up with you on his bathroom counter, himself between your legs as you rub shaving cream onto his face.

"you better not slice me up," he pokes your tummy, and you giggle.

"don't worry, jackpot," you use his nickname, "cant' have the fans mourning your pretty face."

you carefully shave off his stubble, eyes concentrated.

you're so close, and you smell you, and you're so careful with him he wants to kiss you and give you his heart.

you hold his hair back as he washes his face. the act is so intimate, and the whole scene is so domestic that it makes him homesick for something he's never had.

"okay, so I'll put the eye masks on you first, then the clay one."

it's actually pretty relaxing, he has to admit. the eye masks are cool, and the clay mask is a little tight, but he likes to see you smooth it onto your own face, matching his.

he takes his phone, and you slide under his arm, linking yours around his waist.

the both of you smile wide for the mirror selfie, and he makes it his lock screen.

after both of you wash the masks from you - admittedly smoother - skin, he orders a pizza, and you make your way up to the roof.

the light pollution is too bad and he knows that the stars won't be visible, but the pink-inked sky is pretty as your smile.

the two of you talk about everything and nothing: some trick he managed to pull during practice, your co-workers pending divorce, something funny his mom said.

he wishes he could stay here forever, with you.

you, with your soft hair and smile, his too-big hoodie over your shoulders as you lean on him.

he likes seeing you all sleepy and vulnerable, answering his questions quietly.

"do you want a boyfriend?" he asks as the sun goes to bed.

"of course I do," you murmur, "but I just want the right person, at the right time."

he smiles at that. he wants to be that person for you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you've been stressed out lately? yeah, me too, something gave you the nerve, to touch my hand

"oh, shit." you swear softly, and sophie, your co-worker turned best friend - don't let jack hear that - apologizes.

"sorry! sorry! don't move, bro!" she rubs where the curling iron touched the back of your neck.

"that's gonna leave a mark. I'm sorry, sweetie." she fusses, and you tell her it's okay.

luke and jack are having a party for new years at their place, so you and sophie take that chance to dress up for once.

your makeup is done, so is your hair. you have to admit, sophie's done a real good job.

"yeah, dude. we look hot."

you're wearing a pretty red dress, with thin straps and material that clung to your body.

you were unsure, but Sophie hyped you up enough for you to put it on, and you felt really confident.

except you were a little scared at how short it was.

"hey, girl!" luke exclaimed when you entered their apartment. "you look great. hey, soph!"

he handed you both a drink, scurrying off to greet someone else.

the two of you link hands, trying and laughing while bulldozing through the crowd to get to the living room.

some guy catches soph's eye, and you encourage her to go off and talk to him.

nico finds you, being pushed around by the throng of people, and tucks you under his arm like your a football.

you giggle a little as he manages to navigate the way. jack's sitting on one of the arm chairs, and his eyes brighten when he sees you.

"special delivery!" nico pats your head like he would to his little sister, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

the only thing between you is many half-drunk hockey players and drinks on the ground. nico is about to pick you up like a cat, but jack hops his way over, swatting his hands.

"I got it, precious cargo, after all." he slips one hand under your thighs, and another arm wrapped round your waist so you're pressed against his vertically.

you cling to his neck as he makes his way back to his seat, turning you in his arms to fit you onto his lap.

"you look..." he breathes into your ear, "you look gorgeous, baby."

"thanks, jack."

the night continues like normal, until between the sheer amount of people in the apartment and jack's chest pressed against you is making you over heat. as you laugh at one of johnny's jokes you sweep your hair over your shoulder to let your neck breathe.

you feel jack tense beneath you, and he lifts you to stand.

"I-i need a drink," his eyes are panicked and shaky. he bolts, and you stand to go after him. nico and Luke call after you, concerned.

you find him on the roof, leaning over the banister, shoulders shaking.

"jack, honey?" you ask, slipping a hand between his shoulder blades, "do you feel sick?"

the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin, even more so when he turns to you, teeth grit.

"no, m'fine. go back to the party."

"not until you tell me-"

"why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?" he blurts out, refusing to look at you.

"huh?" you ask.

"why didn't you tell me? I thought we told each other everything."

"what are you-"

"you don't need to pretend. I know-" he shudders, like it's painful for him to say this, "I know you're..."

"jack-" you start, but he grabs your hands, new determination in his eyes as he draws you close.

"you should know that I'm in love with you. so you have options, baby." his lip is quivering, and his eyes are rimmed with red.

"I-"

"I could treat you better than he could. and I wouldn't hide it, either. we would be so good together..." he's rubbing the length of your arms now, trying to warm you up.

"we already work so well together. we're best friends and you make me laugh so much. you make me feel safe and tethered."

he continues, "and...jeez, baby, you're fucking gorgeous. I just want to press you against a wall and..." he's talking low and heavy in your ear, and you lean closer to him.

"please, just consider me. I wouldn't just leave a hickey on your neck behind your ear and not celebrate new years with you."

"what?" you asked, surprised, "no, that's not a hickey. sophie burnt my neck while curling my hair."

jack colours a brilliant shade of fire work red.

he just got all in his head, seeing you dolled up and loose, that when he saw the mouth sized mark on the smooth nape of your neck, his only thought was: that should've been me.

"fuck."

you've got a teasing smile on your face now, "you loooove me!"

"I am a dumbass."

"a dumbass who loves me." you grin, cupping his neck, smoothing circles over the skin there.

"my offer still stands," he tells you, winding his arms around your waist.

"yes. I love you too, you idiot." the people throughout the apartment building are starting to chant.

3, 2, 1, happy new years!

"happy new years, baby." he says, and he presses his lips softly, and sweetly to yours.

he's so delicate, trying to make sure everything is perfect.

and it is, because he's with you, with the promise of more forever.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

church bells ring, carry me home, rice on the ground looks like snow

"yeah, mom. I know, I've been eating good. my girl's taking care of me."

you hear jack's voice from where you're measuring rice in the pantry. he definitely thinks that the pantry doors are thicker than they are.

you smile, because he takes such good care of you too: he washes your hair in the shower, he carries and stocks your groceries, he always makes sure you're fed and warm when you're too stressed.

and he takes care of you in other ways that makes you warm and all liquidy.

"I'm gonna make her my wife, mom. she's...she's the one. yes, I'll bring her to the lake house for the summer, but I'll have to ask first. okay. bye. love you too."

by that time you've made it out of the room, closer to him. when he says wife, you drop the whole bowl of rice you were holding.

"did you hear that?" jack's ears are pink, but he's got a cheesy smile on his face.

"yeah. you have a really loud voice, honey."

"call me that again." he asks, as you come to stand between his legs as he sits on the barstool of the kitchen counter.

"loud voice," you tease.

he laughs, and when the two of you quiet down, he rests his head on your shoulder.

"I mean it, y'know."

"we've been only dating for like a month," you protest weakly.

"and I can't wait to see you walk down the aisle to me."

"will you cry?"

"no," he lies, even though he's getting a little teary just thinking about it.

"hmm." you kiss him anyways, and Luke finds you there 10 minutes later, still wrapped up together with rice all over the floor.

"you guys are weirdos." he rolls his eyes, making a face as jack kisses your lips again.

"watch it, mister. you're talking to your future sister in law." you joke, and luke jumps, reaching for your hand.

"dude, were you fucking with me?" he whines, "I got all excited too."

jack hollers something insulting his intelligence as you laugh, watching the two boys.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

feels like home, stay in bed, the whole weekend, it's nice to have a friend

jack kisses your forehead as he hands you a plate of food. you bite his cheek as he shrieks.

you laugh, sitting up so he can see his shirt that's practically falling off of your frame.

you and jack had a slow morning, the sun streaming over your naked bodies as you simply enjoyed each other's presence. around noon, he finally got up to shower.

you refused to join him because "no, the two of us showering together would not save water, it would probably waste more."

so he showered, sad and alone, and made breakfast after you went to clean yourself off.

now, watching you eat toast and watch his past game highlights from last weekend, he knows.

he knows it's going to be you, no matter what.

he knows it's you he wants to grow old with, and have three kids - two boys, one girl, he has the names all planned out - and that picket fence shit.

he knows it's you who'll take care of him with your soft hands and heart at the end of the day, and you'll be the one he'll protect and provide for too.

he knows that he loves you like the back of his hand.

and he knows you're his best friend, the love of his life.

so he knows that he wants to make you his wife.

he leans over to his bedside drawer and pulls out a box.

he got it the weekend after the two of you got together, and he's shaking as you turn to him with wide eyes.

"I love you. you're...you're it for me, baby. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I promise to keep you safe and warm and always finish your plate when you're full," he knows you too well, because your left overs are already on his plate, "and I just want all of you. will you marry me?"

"yes," you breathe, tackling him into the bed with a delighted whoop.

there's no other words to describe it, it's so nice to have you.

it's so nice to have you forever, now.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[skyahri]

Remember P3 |SatoSugu X Reader| HC

Part Two - Part Four Masterlist Ko-fi

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I was planning the story out and then I got this weird block and ugh. Enjoy!

- - - - -

Suguru sighs at the sight before him. You're passed out at your desk, contorted in an odd way that's sure to have your back hurting in the morning. There's empty cans of Redbull and worked through notebooks strewn about the area.

He should've known better than to fall asleep first. It's just past five am. He isn't sure how long you had stayed up after he eventually dosed off around midnight.

You had a habit of ignoring your basic needs and often relied on the people around you to set you straight, a quality he found both tragic and charming. Right now, he was just glad it was Saturday, so you didn't have to deal with the consequences during class.

He slides one arm under your awkwardly bent knees and the other under your back, tilting you towards him so you can fall into his broad chest. You hardly stir, and he has a passive thought about how easy it would be for a curse to catch you off guard right now.

His eyes wander briefly to the journals on your desk. He's a rational man, but surely anyone would be tempted to look, right? His future, his life, maybe even his death, hastily scribbled down in glittery purple gel ink right in front of him.

This could be his only opportunity to see what no one aside from you ever has. His only shot before they're sealed away in the school's catacombs, never to be seen by another again.

"Don't."

His destructive train of thought is quickly shut down with just one word. He swallows nervously, embarrassed to have been caught pondering something stupid. He peeks down at you. Your eyes are still closed, but your hand is resting on his chest, almost like a subtle warning of sorts.

He shifts you slightly, readjusting his grip to hold you more steady. You lull your head against him and breathe in his scent. He's wearing the same cologne he's had since your first year, the same one you could still smell on him after his death.

"You're awake, yet you let me carry you to bed like a child."

He's teasing you, trying to break the stiff atmosphere he's unintentionally created. You aren't sure if he was playing off his own behavior, or if he had sensed a change in yours, but you were grateful for it either way.

"I'm letting you take care of me. There's a difference."

He puffs a bit of air through his nose and turns around. He carries you over to your bed and sets you down, tucking you in under the covers before moving away. Despite the tight feeling in your chest, you allow him to leave without protest.

Maybe you should've asked him to stay, then you wouldn't be here, staring at your clock as the sun hits your face, only a power nap's worth of sleep in your system.

You feel heavy. Your body is stressed and rigid, yet your mind is going a mile a minute. There's only a month until the assimilation and you haven't a clue where to start to fix it, not to mention every other dire event that's sure to happen in the next decade.

You groan, rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bed. You smack your hands on your face desperately trying to rid yourself of the exhaustion. It was going to be a long day.

- - - - -

Despite how the day started (or did yesterday even end?), today was rather nice. You have the day off to rest, giving you the opportunity to enjoy the nice weather. The incoming sunset is soft, painting the walls of the school a nice orange color and making the view a little more surreal.

The courtyard has always been one of your favorite places. You're lying underneath the giant tree, head in Geto's lap, and legs across Gojo. You're still tired and the boys are arguing, but neither are enough to ruin an otherwise perfect moment.

You wish Shoko were here right now, but even she's sent out to assist on missions from time to time. You know she'd be leaning over you, clicking away on her phone, scolding you for your 'unsightly public display of affection'.

"Picking a grass starter is stupid. They have the most weaknesses."

"Maybe if you learned to appreciate the game instead of only using attack moves, you'd realize grass has its advantages."

"Support moves are for chumps. Ain't that right, princess?"

"I don't know, Satoru, Treecko is pretty cute."

He scoffs and places his hand over his chest to feign heartbreak. You and Suguru laugh, bumping your fists together and poking fun at the other.

Satoru, in the height of his hissy fit, pinches your thigh. You jolt and pout at him. You reach up and steal his glasses away, putting them on and enjoying the break from the bits of sunlight that peek through the leaves.

"You tag team me and steal my shades? You owe me a future question."

"Ask away."

Honestly, he wasn't expecting you to agree to his absurd request. For the almost two years he's known you, he's begged and pleaded for you to share your dreams with him. It's all he asks for when the holidays come around and you always deny him.

He shares a look with Geto, who's looking back at him just as awestruck. You aren't looking at their faces, but you know there's a silent conversation happening between them, probably trying to figure out the best use of their only wish.

Satoru finally clears his throat and sits a little straighter. His suddenly mature demeanor piques your interest.

"What do I look like?"

Suddenly the interest is gone. Suguru punches his shoulder making him yelp. You pinch your eyebrows together, flick up the glasses, and stare straight into his eyes.

"You're a fucking idiot."

Despite the disappointment (or is it relief?) you feel, you give him what he wants. You sit up just enough to reach his face, placing your hands on his cheeks and pulling him down to place a chaste kiss on his forehead. Suguru swears he can see residual twinkles left on his friend's skin at the contact.

"What was that?"

"I showed him my memories. It's an extension of my gift."

You lay back down and watch as Satoru's eyes light up. You were careful not to reveal anything about your relationship with him, choosing to show some friendlier, more subtle tidbits. Unfortunately, though, not much can get past Satoru on the rare occasion he actually applies himself.

"I'm wearing a wedding ring."

It's a statement, not a question, and you're positive that it was intentional on his part. You curse yourself under your breath and rack your brain for a way to get yourself out of this predicament.

"Yes."

"So I'm married? To who?"

"Too bad you wasted your question. Guess you'll have to wait and find out like the rest of us."

You can feel your pulse racing, the blood roaring in your ears as you're struck with the grief of your past.

You can't tell him the history behind that ring. There's no doubt in your mind that he knows who wears the other ring(s?)- it's obvious given the strange dynamic he shares with you and Suguru.

But it's not that simple and you can't find it in yourself to crush any shred of hope he has about living a normal life.

You can't tell him that you'd gotten married in a courthouse at nineteen years old so you could take shared guardianship of Megumi and Tsumiki. You can't tell him the rings you wore were damn near symbolic, something you kept on as a front for his clan and to keep some sort of normalcy for the little ones.

You can't tell him how nontraditional your relationship is. That you shared a bed more often than you slept alone, but there were no I-love-you's even if the feelings were there. That with Suguru gone, neither of you felt complete, even when it was Sunday night and you were sitting at a full table with your kids, laughing and joking like the weight wasn't there.

He doesn't need to know that he doesn't get the normal life he's most likely envisioning, because you're going to do your best to change it. He deserves to have a wife, not whatever mixing pot of sex and longing that held you two together through the thick.

You're thankful for Satoru's glasses that conceal the tears you're trying to blink away. Suguru sets his hand on your chest, right over your heart. His touch is warm and calming. He's always in tune with himself and extends that pleasure to you and the white-haired dork lost in thought beside you.

"Why don't we go inside and watch a movie? It's getting dark and it's supposed to rain soon."

Satoru is very melodramatic- always has been and always will be. You've grown accustomed to the odd way he chooses to deal with feelings- pretending they don't exist and smothering the situation with a bright smile and some sweets.

But Suguru? Suguru was never like that. He's an open book, willing to have difficult conversations at the drop of a hat. He balanced you and Satoru out nicely, encouraging the pair of you to at least attempt to cope with your troubles instead of bottling them up.

Which is why it's so easy to allow your walls to crumble in his hold after just a single touch. It's so easy to curl into him and allow him to mother you relentlessly. To fall back into the same routine you haven't known for years. To relish in the feeling of finally feeling whole again.

He offers you his hand and helps you to your feet. He gently brushes the grass off of your backside and you hear a smack. A quick glance behind you tells you it was Geto slapping away Satoru's opportunistic hand from copping a feel under your skirt.

You laugh and tug the boys closer to you, wrapping your arms around their waists and leading them inside. Your cheerful mood has returned and nothing is going to strip it away- not even the two losers swatting at each other behind your back.

Taglist: @wannapizzamymindposts @sadunicorns11 @reiluvr

[mikobeautifulheart]

Jealous, protective megumi pls??

- 🐌

OMG I MISSED YOU SM. 🤧 my saviour anon.

And Absolutely.

Jealous and protective Megumi

After being stranded in heavy rain you wait for your boyfriend to pick you up. What you weren't expecting was to met one of his acquaintances while waiting. He didn't either.

Sitting under the bus shelter you looked down at your phone to read the time. You had been there for well over 10 minutes and the rain had no sign of stopping or getting any lighter.

You felt your phone vibrate and saw that Megumi was calling you.

"Hel-"

"I have your umbrella"

"Yeah I figured *sigh*"

"Where are you? I'll pick you up."

"I'm at the bus shelter, near the school."

"Okay wait there, I'll be-."

The rain poured harder making it hard to hear him over the phone.

"Megumi? I can't hear you?"

No response. You hung up.

He sent a text saying that he was on his way.

Just as the rain had got worse before you heard heavy footsteps of someone running under the bus shelter to.

You looked up from your phone to see a person doubled over, absolutely drenched and exhausted. After a few seconds they caught there breath and stood up, occasionally glancing at you.

"Forget your umbrella to?" He asked politely, just engaging in small talk.

"Ha yeah... I should have checked the weather report today."

"Yeah"

The rain kept going as you two stayed silent.

"Got far to go?" He spoke again, this time looking at you until you faced him.

"Oh well, not really I was just going to run to the school up there but the rain keeps getting worse." You smiled

"School? You don't mean that really small one surrounded by bamboo, do you?"

"That's the one"

"So are you a sorcerer too?"

"How did you know?"

"I'm going to Jujutsu high to"

Back at Megumi's dorm he's getting a weird feeling in his stomach, like something was eating him alive.

"Yeah I'm actually a second year but I was training in another country"

"Really, that's so cool! How come I've never heard of you?"

"Honestly I was a bit of a loser" he laughed and so did you.

"That can't be true, you look so cool and mysterious."

You noticed that it was silent again and you looked over to see that the guy was now looking straight in front of him, ears red.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it awkward..." You said with a nervous chuckle.

"Oh NO, No Not at all" he said even redder now as he stumbled over his words.

"Um, I was just wondering..."

You felt a cold hand intertwine its fingers with yours, to your surprise you saw Megumi standing inbetween you two holding pa wide umbrella.

"Oh Megumi, Hi" you said not noticing the glare he was shooting the guy.

"Hey Fushiguro, how are you?" The guy said nervously scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm fine, Okkotsu, if you don't mind I'll be walking my girlfriend back to the dorms."

The atmosphere got thicker.

"Yeah see you at the school I guess..."

With that Megumi had already started to lead you away with out letting you say goodbye. His hand slowly loosened its grip as he sighed.

"You knew that guy?" You said

"Yeah, he's got a thing for dead girls."

"W-WHAT?"

"Yuta okkotsu, a special grade. He's related to Gojo so we would rarely bump into eachother in the past.

"Special grade?!"

"Y/n what ever you do, don't go messing around with him okay."

You doubted that Yuta was actually a bad person, let alone one who would hurt you. But you couldnt help but listen to Megumi as you saw the jealousy getting to him.

"Okay Gumi, on one condition."

"What?"

" I can talk to him about my amazingly strong good-looking boyfriend." You giggled as you swore Megumi was breaking down inside, movments becoming stiffer and hesitant.

"Whatever"

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: I'm working on a few fics rn (including the OP ones) but my inbox is nearly empty and my requests are open. Reblogs r welcomed and have a good whatever time.

[nonotnolan]

Just Another Sunday

"Eric, what the hell happened to you?" He looked up from his phone with a confused look on his face, as if he hadn't suddenly transformed into a stacked muscle God. I couldn't help but start to hyperventilate a bit. Weird stuff had been happening all over town this week, but until now the three of us had been spared.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he said, pausing for a few moments before shifting back over to his phone.

"Like hell you don't!" I yelled, stomping across the Joey's kitchen to yell directly in his face. His casual body posture confirmed that I was still dealing with Eric, at least-- my self-survival instincts were telling me that yelling at a man this large was an easy way to get the shit kicked out of me. Joey, Eric, and I had been easy targets for bullies our whole lives. Or at least, we had been until whatever the hell just happened to Eric. "Something weird is going on! You suddenly gained 6 inches, two shades of skin tan, and god only knows how many pounds of muscle. Did you really not notice that happening?"

He laughed, ruffling the top of my head before speaking. "What do you mean I gained all this? C'mon, Bro. I've looked like this for years, you know that." His wide grin deflated a bit as I glared at him, unblinking. "Bro, you're freaking me out. I've always looked like this. Look, here's my camera roll. This is us just last week. Remember?"

Now it was my turn to be confused. Our friend Joey took this photo for us... only it was the two of us clutching our pudgy stomachs and making fun of everyone outside enjoying the last weekend of swimsuit weather. Now here was Eric, every bit as shirtless and as sexy as the people that we had been mocking.

"Seriously, Bro, you're freaking me out a little." Eric pressed the back of his palm against my forehead. "Seems like you might be running a fever or something. I think you'd better stay home and get some rest. I'll ask Master Joey if you can share my bed in his servant's quarters."

Hang on... Master Joey? Something about that didn't sound right. I tried to figure out why that phrase sounded so peculiar, but I was finding it a bit hard to concentrate on anything. It almost felt like a headache, but in a forgetful sort of way. "Hang on... why would I share your bed?" I asked him. "We both have beds in Master Joey's quarters. Something weird is going on. Pull up that photo again, would you?"

We looked at the photo of me and Eric enjoying the Hot Tub one last time before swimsuit season was over. Master Joey loved taking photos of his servants and their masculinity-- all of our phones had tons of photos like this in our camera roll. Why had I been freaking out earlier?

"Sorry, Eric, I'm not sure what's wrong with me," I said, rubbing my hand over my head. Feeling the buzzed stubble always helped calm me down. Well, that and working out at the gym, but that wasn't really an option right now.

"Don't sweat it, Bro," he said, thumping me on the back. "I'm sure you'll feel better tomorrow. Anyway, it's time for our evening progress pic for Master Joey." Eric set up the timer on his phone while I peeled back my tank top. Master Joey loved getting pictures of our hot bodies each night, and we loved knowing that our master would masturbate himself to sleep at the thought of us.

A thought crossed my mind. "Hey Eric... is there any reason we don't let Master Joey have sex with us every night?

He laughed, thumping me on the back a few more times. "You know, it's funny... I was just thinking the same thing. Having Master Joey's cock up my ass actually sounds pretty nice. Should we make that our new evening ritual?"

"I think we should," I said, nodding in agreement. What was the point in having such a plump and meaty ass if no one was going to use it? And anyway, it was the least we could do for the man who allowed us to serve under him. Weird stuff has been happening all over town this week. It's a relief to know that Master Joey will always keep us safe.

[shirefantasies]

Okay this is probably a really stupid and hyper specific request, but I really want to see it.. What about the Fellowship (plus Faramir if you wouldn't mind) with a reader who's really sensitive to the cold? Specifically in their hands too.

I have a weird medical condition called Raynaud's Syndrome where, when I get cold, my hands lose all circulation and essentially risk dying from blood loss (something about the blood vessels constricting in the cold) so I personally have to wear at least 2 pairs of gloves when going out in under 50°F weather. It's annoying as hell, and I just imagine the reader on the quest trying to hide it but someone notices they're wearing like 3 pairs of gloves or how their hands are freakishly ice cold and getting worried.

Sorry if that's too specific, it's just -5°F here so I'm thinking about it. I love your blog, keep up the amazing work and take care of yourself sweetie!

Nah, not stupid at all! Besides I've seen much more specific requests and scenarios 😆 this honestly has such opportunity to be a cute imagine though I'm vibin with it~ gonna do everyone cuz, well you know 😂 I use the term frostbite a bit just because they probably wouldn’t quite have the same medical understanding/terminology in Middle Earth lol

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Aragorn

“There is no shame in it.” Starting, you peer up at Aragorn, probably looking for all the world like a spooked rabbit. “It is cold,” he agrees simply, nodding down to your hidden hands. “Yes,” you reply, wringing them and shuddering, “I suppose you are correct. Call it misfortune, but I am quite prone to its ill effects.” Immediately he reaches for your hand, brows raising at the ice he feels in your veins even through your pair of gloves. Half releasing you and gazing sadly upon your wince at the loss of warmth, Aragorn reaches into his pack and hands you a bundle with a faint sheen. Leather gloves. “These are much thicker. A bit unwieldy, yes, but I trust we won’t be doing much fighting in the snow. Take them, please, for they see no use with me.” “How can I thank you?” You smile at him, wonder coloring your eyes. “Simply wear them with joy,” he replies.

Legolas

“Do not worry,” Legolas spoke suddenly at your side, all but startling you save the sheer calm of his presence, “I have something for you if you’d like- a gift of the elves.” Cocking your head, you swiveled to face him, flushing as he stepped close enough for your hips to brush. A part of you wondered if he was doing it on purpose, but knowing him he hadn't even realized...shaking your head, you held out your hands to accept what he offered. It appeared as a kerchief, a small shroud of fabric with a faint, almost silky, sheen. "You may recall our cloaks hide us from hostile eyes? Well, this will keep the cold locked away from you tighter than anything. May I?" Such a gentleman. Smiling, you nod as he folds his gift gently over your hands, almost sobbing at the instantaneous difference. Experimentally you flex your hands, find even the strain of your joints diminished. Without thinking, you lean up and kiss his cheek, pulling away with shock to his smile. "And yet you still have a warmer gift for me."

Boromir

He sees the way you furtively grip your gloved hands, tries not to draw too much attention but gradually moves to walk at your side. “Are you in pain?” He asks with a slight nod to your hands. At that, you sigh and shake your head. “No, my hands are just quite sensitive. Since I was young I was told my risk of frostbite is great.” Eyes widening, Boromir takes one of your hands; you wince at the motion’s rush of cold only for it to melt into a smile at the way the pad of his thumb brushes over the back of it. “Why have you never told me?” “Because,” you shrug, “it sounds like I’m just complaining. My claim is not believable to most.” “Your words hold true to me,” Boromir replies with a smile, pulling a pair of gloves from his pocket, “here. You need them more than I do. Really, I insist.”

Gimli

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Chuckling faintly at the dwarf’s words, you finally break from your reverie, realizing you must have been staring oddly in a daze. The cold was getting to you and bad, snow flitting between your heads and caking onto your cloaks. The old, worn gloves you had were hardly helping, and in that moment you feared for loss of your hands to frostbite- perhaps that was the ghost you’d seen. With effort you peel your fingers from their fists and wince. “Ah! Cold, are you? Why, I’ve just the thing! We dwarves are quite thick in the hide, often hard to beat by a little snow! But that’s also because we know a trick or two,” he tells you with a wink, pulling two little sewn objects from his pockets. Resembling small pillows, they fall lightly into your hands. “Give them a shake for a bit, see if you don’t feel better! A great chemical trick from the mines, you see.” Frowning faintly, you humor Gimli, shaking his strange gifts in your hand until- warmth! Grinning, you shake more vigorously and sigh in relief at the heat and motion spreading back into your hands, which you throw around his neck. “I’ll never doubt you again, Gimli!” “Mind telling the elf that?”

Frodo

"Can we keep the fire going?" Frodo. He had made his way to Aragorn's side, and though that was all you heard beneath the wind and your premature mourning of the heat it seemed the hobbit was vying rather well, making a few gestures before the ranger gave him a nod. With a small smile Frodo returned to the log you sat upon, lowering down to take a seat at your side. "I saw how cold you are. Your hands have hardly left this fire. Aragorn agreed we can keep it so long as watch is kept," he told you, nodding down to the kindling saving your hands. "Thank you," you breathed, "I hope he doesn't think me frivolous." "And I hope you don't think me a gossip, for I told him you needed it. I-I just worried for you and could hardly stand to see you get frostbite of our accord." Endearment took over your face as you peered into the hobbit's eyes, saw the reflection of your fire flickering therein. "Oh, Frodo, I could never think that. You are no gossip, but a hero." And with that, you relinquished the fire long enough to put your arms around him, pulling him close and bringing a different kind of warmth.

Sam

“You look like you’re fit to catch your death of cold.” Turning from your focus upon your hands, you see Sam at your side and smile faintly. “Let’s hope not,” you joke back, “but I’ll be grateful for the fire once we get it started.” Digging in his pockets, Sam looks down for a moment before producing a scarf. “I figure even if I had gloves they wouldn’t fit you, but you could always wrap this around.” “I can’t take this,” you shake your head, “after all, what will you do, then?” “I’ll just sit right next to you and that’ll keep me plenty warm,” Sam responds with a sweet smile, "here." Matters settled, he winds his scarf tightly around your hands, keeping them in his for a moment, thinking, then finally pressing a kiss to them before he lets them go.

Merry

"Oh, no, you don't!" "Merry," you giggle, "I need to get my whittling knife from my pack!" "I can get it." Since the day you told Merry you were sensitive to the cold, particularly by the frost that overtakes your hands, the hobbit has quite insisted upon holding them in his at all times. Even if yours are larger, his are quite insistent and, bless him, warm. However, he barely understood that you could hardly walk with both your hands in his all the time, and the others had taken to giving you little smiles and shakes of their head and never calling one name without the other. "You ought to give up," Pippin chuckles your name with a grin, "Merry is quite used to keeping his antics going." "Antics?" Sam shoots back, crossing his arms and shaking his head fondly. "More like excuses. I know a lovestruck fool when I see one."

Pippin

“You should have told me you were cold!” Guilt flit across your features at Pippin’s words and, of course, his glance to your thrice-gloved hands. “Well, it’s just my hands, you see, I-” “Doesn’t matter,” he cut you off with a grin of warm acceptance, “no matter what of you isn’t comfortable, you have me to take care of you, alright? Now watch this.” You watched as he placed stones in Sam’s once-washed pot. “I’ve seen healers do this, usually on someone’s back but I figure heat is heat, right?” Giggling, you admit that he is right. “We’ll let these go for a bit before you grab them- can’t have you getting burned either,” he dotes, shaking his head and peering back from the fire to you with shining eyes.

Faramir

"Faramir, they'll stare," you protested as he began walking you out the door. "And when I tell them this is what the nurses ordered they shall feel quite remorseful," he joked back, continuing on your course. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you went out into the White City with one hand both in Faramir's and in his pocket. The other you kept in your own, supplemented for lack of your beloved's warmth by an extra glove. It was, in fact, not the same. "Besides, there are worse pockets for your hand to be in, no?" That comment was quite worth relieving your left hand of its pocket long enough to give Faramir a light smack on the chest. Opportunity struck, though, and he caught your hand in his free one, pressing his lips to the back of it. "Perhaps I am fonder of winter than I quite realized. Always did we prefer spring's hope of blossom to the dreary chill, but it would seem there are many advantages to take in the cold."

Eomer

“Why do you hide your hands so?” Direct. Eomer, it seemed, did not find your habit of tucking away from the cold as discreet as you did. You sighed. Fear crept along your spine alongside winter’s chill at the thought of the warrior finding you weak. Would he believe you or disregard your word like so many others? “I’m prone to frostbite, you could say,” you replied quietly, hands clasped. At that, Eomer tilted his head, fixing you as a sight entirely new to his eyes. “Let me see.” Suppressing a wince, you held out your gloved hands and tried to ignore the jolt you felt when he held them, thumbs running over the backs. Frowning, he spoke again. “This will not do.” That time, you winced, trying to pull your hands away, but his grip tightened as he continued. “The Riders have far thicker gloves. Let me fetch you a pair. Your hands are far too capable to lose, after all.” Winking, he made his way toward the armory with a smile matching the faint creep of yours upon your lips.

Haldir

"Is this why they were so reluctant to send you? I must apologize, I fought so hard on your behalf because I thought they doubted you, not this." You shake your head, eyes almost tearing up at the hurt on Haldir's face. "You could not have known. I...try not to tell anyone. They seldom believe me," you confessed, hands wringing nervously. The mission was outside of Lothlórien, away higher into the mountains where the chill could affect you. Of greatest concern to you, though, was how Haldir would react to a perceived weakness. His grace had you taken aback, though, as he held your hands, never pushed you, ensured you felt able to fight before sending you into the fray. Even when you stayed behind from danger you couldn't help but smile as his words. "This will never happen again. All I want is to keep you safe."

Eowyn

“This is beautiful, thank you,” you breathe, pulling a short length of luxurious fur from the box with wide eyes. This could not have been an easily attained gift. “You like it?” Eowyn smiles, enraptured at your joy and the way you eagerly nod. “Do you know what it is?” Grin fading a bit, you shake your head, regretting your ignorance especially if it is to come off as ingratitude. It does not, though, or such only fuels Eowyn’s glow further as she extends a hand over it. “A muff! See here!” Plucking it from your hands, she slides her own inside the fur, revealing its tube shape. Alight, you immediately stick your own hands in there, sheepish at the way Eowyn starts at the cold of them before holding them together beneath the warm, fluffy layers. “This is perfect,” you thank her, your head falling to her shoulder.

Arwen

"Your hands are cold!" "I-I'm sorry," you pull from her grasp sheepishly. "Do not be," she smiles and shakes her head, "It simply came as a surprise. Mine are often the same. Rarely do I feel it so." "Prone to frostbite as I am," you remarked, "my hands are likely colder than any you have felt before." "Meleth nín," Arwen's brow creased, "why have you never spoken of this before? Perhaps we should try something." Your own brow creased with a faint frown as the elf took you by the hand, off to one of the many rooms baths were drawn in. "Oh, yes," you replied, "hot water does help." "I am sure it does, but would you be willing to try something new?" Swallowing a spike of anxiety, you peered into Arwen's blue eyes and nodded, giving in fully to your trust of her. You could tell she wanted to keep what she was doing a surprise, standing completely over the small basin as she was, but soon she was taking your hands again, dipping them several times into thick, heavenly warmth. "And now," she told you with a grin, wrapping your hands in small covers, then heated towels, "we wait." Every muscle in your body relaxed as the sensation crept through your veins, up through your loosening hands and shivering deliciously down your spine. "What is this?" You asked, almost adding magic to the end of your question but feeling a bit too foolish. "Wax of all things," Arwen giggled, "and judging by your expression, it is helping."

Elrond

"Let me feel them." Elrond's voice is commanding, but not at all harsh, as he holds out his palms and accepts your hands. Immediately his thumbs curl over them and a light frown creases his forehead. He nods. "They are quite cold." At that, it is your turn to nod as if to say I told you so. "The storm is to last for several more days. Come with me. Please." The last word upon Elrond's lips is one of the softest you've heard, drawing you up from your seat and after him without a single thought. You follow the flow of Elrond's robes down a corridor and into another room, this one with a crackling fireplace and the softest-looking bed you've ever seen. "What is this," you cannot help joking, "my winter prison?" Before you hear the lord of Rivendell, you feel him, his form drawing nearer until his chest rests against your back. "I prefer to think of it as our getaway," he replies in a low voice, hands falling upon your shoulders.

Lindir

Lindir’s face fell at the frustration upon yours, the way your hands shakily dropped from his harp. He was to teach you as you’d wished, but your hands were not cooperating with you. “You seem a bit stiff. May I?” Confused more than anything, you look up at him and nod. Reaching over, he takes one hand in each of his, brows shooting up the moment you touch. “Well, no small wonder! Your hands are like ice.” “I know,” you agree, gaze falling from Lindir’s dark eyes, “they get like this with every chill of winter.” You see the way Lindir straightens, the surprise crossing his face and creasing his forehead. “Then let us move inside,” he replies, massaging your hands gently in his, “and I will hear no more talk of lessons until we’ve drawn you some warm water.”

[gabbytbll]

~❄️Your sick darling be careful now❄️~

OOC Zayne x MC/Reader

masterlist 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭

guys i just started to play love and deep space so Zayne is going to be OOC

THIS IS A SHORT STORY!

i did not have a beta reader so mistakes will be made!

word count: 1.5k

MAJOR FLUFF!!!

Short summary:

You get sick from not taking care of yourself for such a long period of time because you were so focused on fighting wanderers and Zayne finds out when he meets u at the cafe for lunch on his day off(surprisingly) so he takes u home so u can get rest~

It was a sunny day on Linkon, the birds were out. busy people everywhere. You see a pretty young lady name (y/n) walking down the street in a (f/c) sweater with (f/c) jeans.

She looked like she was tired, but she was in such a hurry. As she walked down the street she kept bumping into people. "Sorry! Sorry!" (y/n) said in such a hurry. "Aw man, I'm so late he's going to be so mad" (y/n) said while out of breath. "If only I didn't wake up so late today" (y/n) said with a sign.

(y/n) hurries to her destination swiftly. As she approaches the cafe, she slows down to look into the window of a clothes shop. (y/n) can see a little bit of her reflection. She try's to fix her wild hair from running. "That should do it, maybe I shouldn't have ran here now I feel even worse" (y/n) said while mumbling to herself. The people who were passing by her gave her a weird look.

She walks away from the window to go to the cafe. She sees Zayne thru the cafe windows sitting in a booth playing with his Evol making a seal. She lets out a small giggle as she opens the cafe door. Zayne takes a small glace over to the door. He perks up at the sight of you, but he noticed something was wrong with you. He raises his eyebrow out of suspicion.

"Heyy! hopefully I didn't make you wait to long, I'm sorry for taking so long i woke up late" (y/n) said while walking over to sit at the booth with Zayne. "Your ok, sleep is very important for you" Zayne said in a hum. You noticed Zayne's eyes were looking all over your face. You pick up the menu out of being nervous from his eyes on you for so long. "So! what are u going to order Zayne!" (y/n) said nervously.

"I will have what I had last time we were here" Zayne said with his monotone voice. "Ah ok! I'm thinking of getting the cheese egg and toast again to! I haven't had breakfast yet Hehe" (y/n) said sheepishly with a smile. Zayne lets out a small chuckle. " I see u had an event full morning" Zayne said with a small smile.

(y/n) nods her head yes slowly. "Hello what would you like to eat!" said the waitress. (y/n) closes her menu and gives it to the waitress. "I'll have the cheese egg and toast please!" (y/n) said with a tired smile on her face. Zayne looks at you with suspicion again, but not saying anything. As Zayne gives his order to the waitress, all of a sudden you feel very tired and hot. You squirm around in your seat as you were starting to feel uncomfortable.

Zayne looks away from the waitress to look at you. "(y/n) you don't look ok, are you alright?" Zayne said in a worriedly tone of voice. You stopped moving as if you just got caught doing something illegal. " Sorry I'm just feeling a bit under the weather lately it's no big deal!" (y/n) said in a nonchalant tone. As you say that you can't seem to look in Zayne's eyes. if you do you know he will know you are lying to him..

"Come here, a bit closer" Zayne said while making a gesture to come closer. You look pale as a ghost. You lean forwards so that he can reach you without him leaning. "Is this ok here?" (y/n) said with a sign. Zayne nods his head yes while moving his right head towards your face.

Zayne's hand touches your forehead as if you're his patient. He makes a small hum while taking his hand of your forehead. "(y/n) you are burning up, why did you leave the house sick? you know how I feel about that" Zayne said in a slightly annoyed tone. You take a deep breath knowing you just got caught doing the one thing he said never to do.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't want to miss this lunch together Zayne" (y/n) said with a sad look on her face. "You barley take days off of work, i didn't want to miss hanging out with you today" (y/n) said with a sigh. You put your right elbow on the table to put your face on your hand. "Plus I wasn't feeling that bad this morning. maybe running to get here made me feel worse" (y/n) said while letting out a small giggle.

"Hi again, here is your food! all done, have fun!" said the waitress. You both take a small glance over to her retreating form. Zayne fixes his plate to where its Infront of him. You drag your plate in front of you to start eating. Zayne looks up from his plate to look at you again. "(y/n) i know how much you wanted to hang out today, but your health is more important if anything I could have come over to your apartment" Zayne said seriously while looking at your flushed face.

You quickly take a small bite out of your food before you answered him. "Yea I know and I'm sorry again! ill tell you next time I'm not feeling good whenever we have plans together" (y/n) said with a bright smile on her face. Zayne nods before he starts to eat his food.

Moving on from that conversation, you and Zayne talk about other topics while eating. By the time both of you were done eating you started to feel even worse. Maybe you shouldn't have come today.

"Ah man that was so good! I love this place"(y/n) said while leaning back in her seat while patting her stomach softly. Zayne lets out a small chuckle at your actions. "Are you ready to go now?" Zayne with a small smile. You nod you head yes as you slowly get up from your spot in the booth. Zayne lets out a small hum as he takes money out of his wallet to pay for the both of you. "My treat, let's take you home now (y/n)" Zayne said in his monotone voice.

As the both of you walk out of the cafe you start to feel hot again. You let out a small groan out of annoyance. Zayne brings you a bit closer to him as the both of you walk to the direction of your apartment.

As you get closer and closer to your place you feel sweat roll down you face. You bring up you left hand to swipe away the sweat before it got into your eye. You take a small glance up to your left at Zayne. "When we get to your apartment, I want you to rest and not strain yourself even further then you are now" Zayne said in a serious tone of voice while reaching down to hold your right hand tightly.

You hold his hand tightly as he did before you nodded out of exhaustion. Zayne lets out a pleasant hum. "I'll come by tomorrow to make sure you are better" Zayne said with a voice filled with worry. You let out a tired hum at his mission for the next day.

When you both walk into your apartment, you walk straight to your bedroom to get comfortable clothes out to get a quick shower. You go hop into the shower leaving Zayne on his own to put his belongings down somewhere. Zayne heads towards the spare bathroom to find a towel. It takes him a minute or two to find the small towel. He lets out a sign as he heads towards your small kitchen. He hears you get out of the shower. He washes his hands with soap and hot water before he wets the towel with cold water.

He walks to your bedroom and knocks. "Can I come in?" Zayne said with the cold wet towel dripping water down his hand. "Yea you can come in" (y/n) said as she moved herself to get under her blankets. Zayne lets out a hum before he opened your door. He walks over to your bed side to gently sit down beside you.

"Here this should help with the fever a little bit" Zayne says as he puts the cold towel on your forehead neatly. You shiver from the towel being so cold to your hot skin. "Thank you, Zayne I hope you don't get sick from me" (y/n) said with a worried tone of voice. Zayne lets out a chuckle at your kind words.

He moves his hand up to your face to rub at the side of your face with his thumb. "Don't worry darling I'm going to be ok" Zayne said with a smile on his face. You smile as you move to lean on the hand on your face. Zayne slowly take's his hand away from your face. "I'll let you get some rest now, you need it" Zayne said as he started to get up from his spot on the bed. "Ok Zayne, thank you for taking care of me" (y/n) said with a smile on her face as she starts to doze off to sleep. Zayne lets out a small chuckle. "You're welcome, just be careful your sick now darling" Zayne said as he walks out of your bedroom quietly.

THE END❄️

guys i finished this in one night that's how much I love this man like AHHHHHHHHH omg he's my favorite BUT! pls give me feedback as this is one of the first story's I ever made and let me know if you have any tips an tricks thank you for reading!!!

[eulaliasims]

Shep round 1, 2/2

Shep invited Derelei over to share their dinner, and she brought along another friend, Cian. It makes for a pleasant evening--this must be the highest Shep's social bar has been all spring.

Cian: Are you two excited for the spring festival tomorrow?

Shep: I don't know much about it yet.

Derelei: Oh, it's lots of fun. Dancing, food, too much drinking. You should come and we can dance together!

Unfortunately, after her friends left Shep ran outside to stomp some mysteriously appearing roaches before I could stop her. In the rain, no less. Congratulations on starting our first potential plague, Shep! 👍

Shep: Does this mean I have to miss the festival? :(

I mean, I don't know if you know germ theory yet, but I do, so yes.

I decided to take pity on her, since it's the first round and also I wanted to test the festival lot. Yes, yes, Helenet is very pretty.

Helenet: I heard from the boss that you're under the weather, Shep?

Shep: Ah, yeah, it's just a little nagging cough and fever and a little bit of diarrhea. Look at me, I'm still up and at 'em!

Helenet: ...um, right. Drink this; it's one of my family's best tisanes for the flu. Sorry, um, but I've got to go get Angus from Eisu. Also, no offense, I don't really want to bring your sickness back to Angus.

Shep: Yeah, got it. Hey, does this taste any good or?

Helenet: No.

Shep: Aw.

Shep: Bottoms up! ...Huh, this tastes like... blue raspberry? A thing that exists only a thousand, thousand years from now? Weird.

Shep gets to put on her fancy dress and met up with Derelei after all!

Derelei: Yup, no fever... just some beautiful eyes.

Shep: Eheheh--

Helenet seems pleased to see Shep having a good time and not coughing germs all over the place.

Spotted: Eisu and his brother Elmet instructing Helenet in the finer art of skittles; and I think the two Seax sister have both overindulged with the mead.

Shep manages to upset the full water basin when she's washing up for bed, which is a nice cherry on top of an up and down round.

But summer is here, and the wheat is continuing to grow, with (thankfully) no more Sheep Incidents. Soon, Shep can set her plan into motion:

Step 1: harvest wheat

Step 2: ??????

Step 3: sell beer and become, if not fabulously, then comfortably wealthy! Just gotta figure out that middle step.

[evilfloralfoolery]

Daggers and Deception- Part 6

Shit gets weirder and weirder. This part is already over 2k, so I'm gonna cut it in half.

*This is plotfuckery. There will be much more snzfuckery in other parts. As always, if you enjoy my writing and writing of my fellow plotfuckers, we kindly ask for reblogs or commentary. In particular, I wanna thank @undersixskies for being SO motivating and listening to all of my bullshit lol.*

____________________________________________

Indigo paces the perimeter of the overgrown courtyard in quiet observance.  Amongst the patches of dead grass are distinctive patterns of nocturnal creatures, the small footprints of raccoons, the familiar stamp of buck’s hooves.  

And something dreadfully familiar that has no business being there. A myriad of prints, some recognizable and some not.  A cacophony of haphazard footsteps, restless and agitated.  Indigo furrows his brow, glancing over the rims of his glasses. The threshold did not appear to be crossed and yet, it had most certainly happened.  Had the time come for more assertive measures, to ask for permission?

He tugs his phone free of his pocket and thumbs through the contacts, finger hesitating just above Reginald ’s number.  No.  Not yet.  He would handle this himself.  

For now.

The walk back to the house is a short one, the blustery wind doing a number on his unbound hair as he navigates the creaking porch and makes his way into the library.  Within its confines is comforting familiarity, the scent of weathered leather and paper, the varying colors of dull brown and blues easing his mind into a greater clarity.  He walks the edges of the shelves, reading titles, tracing fingers down aged spines.  Dickens, Hemingway, Faulkner, Fitzgerald.  All of which he knows and has read.  Some of which he’d very much like to toss into the crackling fire.

He chooses a volume of Whitman’s poetry from the shelf and settles himself into the wingback chair near the fireplace under the pretense of relaxation.  But his mind does not allow him to completely immerse himself in the text.  He glances towards the window, ever vigilant, unable to unwind.  

Vacation, indeed. Hmph.  Nonsense.   

In the doorway, the hulking shadow of a frame he has come to know quite well in the past few days approaches and Indigo flicks his gaze back to the text on the page to create the illusion of an in-depth study of the words.

“Hey.”

“Good morning,” he says cordially, turning the page with a careful sifting of fingers without looking up.

“Look,” Grimm says.  “I’m sorry I barked at you last night.”  He runs a hand through his unbound hair with a sigh.  “But you were acting fuckin’ weird, okay.” 

Indigo closes the book with a gentle thump of leather and sets it aside, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair, legs crossed, back straight, hands clasped atop his knee. An interesting way to begin an apology, but he suspects such is the norm for this man. “I explained myself and acted upon that explanation.”

Grimm has managed to dress himself in a black T-shirt with some kind of emblem stitched atop the right pec, the fabric stretched tight across his chest and arms.  The pants are equally as fitted, worn denim that has become ripped in spots, frayed at the bottoms and tattered at the seams.  And no shoes to speak of.  The man looks disheveled, yet comfortable.  

Ruggedly attract---

Mind your thoughts, Solaris.  

“A bit cold to go about barefoot, is it not?”

Grimm glances at his feet.  “You know how hard it is to tie boot laces with one hand?”

In spite of himself, Indigo chuckles.  “Yes, well. I suppose it would present some difficulty.”  He nods to Grimm’s arm, which is currently sans sling.  “How is your shoulder, then?”

“Actually feels pretty damn good,” Grimm says.  “Not sure how, but I’ll take it.”

“Perhaps,” Indigo says, “it was my ‘poisonous’ pasta dish?”

Grimm winces.  “Yeah, okay. I get it.  Like I said, you were acting weird.”

Clearly.

Indigo adjusts the height of his glasses with an unconscious push of a finger and regards Grimm through the lenses.  The man is agitated, clearly uncomfortable with whatever he might truly wish to say.  This was more than difficulty with a simple apology.  This was something altogether different.  

“You seem troubled,” Indigo says at last.  

The words are more invitation than observation and the desired effect is achieved when Grimm runs a hand through his dark hair, glancing at the rug upon which he stands.

“Not enough sleep, I guess. Still fighting this fucking pseudo-cold bullshit that can’t decide if it wants me to be sick or not.”

“And yet, you just said you felt quite well.”  Indigo clasps his hands together.  “What ails you?”

“Fuck if I know,” Grimm says.  “It’s--- nah, it’s stupid.”  Grimm waves a hand. “I was probably tired as hell.  Hard to sleep much with this damn arm.”  

“Indulge me,” Indigo says.  “I do promise not to judge you.”

Grimm hesitates, runs his hand through his hair again, and stares into the distance beyond the window.

Indigo nods encouragingly. “Do continue.” 

Grimm looks as if he would rather not, both agitated with himself and at odds with was probably a code of sorts.

“Please.” Indigo softens his tone to a more compelling manner of coaxing. “I wish to hear what you have seen.”

The other man contends with the urge to speak for several more moments before sigh-growling in defeat.

“Must be some PTSD shit because I thought I saw something .  Someone.  Standing in the corner.  The shadows and shit were just right and I could have sworn--”  Grimm shakes his head.  “Forget it.  It told you it was stupid.”

Except that it wasn’t.  Indigo sits in false expectation, poised and calm, as if he hasn’t the slightest idea what Grimm might be speaking of.  If it is as he fears, lecherous lasagna shall be the least of his neighbor’s concerns.

“Did it speak to you?” Indigo’s voice is quiet in comparison to the crackle of the fire, a coaxing gentility that seems to soothe Grimm’s concern over how ridiculous his claim might be.

“No,” Grimm says.  “It laughed.”

Indigo’s eyes narrow to slits of blue-green.  “Is that so . . .”  

The conversation has grown precarious, but there is no sense in ending it now.  If it as Grimm says, discretion will become difficult, if not impossible.  But where to begin?  How much is allowed for discussion?  The phone in Indigo’s pocket vibrates with an insistent buzz and he slides it free, glancing at the screen.

What timing.  Then again, his mentor was uncanny with nearly all things.

“A moment, please,” he says to Grimm.  

Not that it matters if Grimm will grant him permission or not.  Indigo rises to his feet and strides to the nearest exit before the other man can contemplate an answer as he thumbs the “receive” icon with a swipe.

“Solaris,” he says.

“Ah, Indigo.”  Reginald ’s robust voice is as clear and cheerful as ever.  “Have you managed a bit of rest?”

“I’m afraid not,” Indigo says.  “There have been . . . complications.”  

Glancing over his shoulder, Indigo nudges the door to the sunroom shut, closing off the curious confusion of Grimm’s face.

________________________________________

“Where you going now?”

Grimm has managed to put on his boots somehow between the 20 minutes of conversation with Reginald. He follows him out of the library and down the decrepit steps, out past the dreary fountain full of stale water and leaves and into the overgrowth of the mockery that has the nerve to call itself a “garden.” 

Indigo huffs a sigh. Despite Reginald's encouragement, Indigo is reluctant to involve Grimm in this nonsense. It is too soon to reveal that which should be tested and cultivated slowly, but time and circumstance have not allowed for these things.  And honestly, why would they ever?  Indigo grumbles to himself.  Well, the gods certainly had a peculiar sense of humor.

“Hey!”  

Grimm is now in front of him, having moved faster than Indigo could track.  He blocks the way with the entirety of his frame, imposing and immovable as any wall, shoulders squared and chin lifted.  

“You gonna stop for a minute and explain to me what the fuck is going on with you?”

Indigo comes to an abrupt halt and fixes his gaze on the other man, a hand upon his hip, lines of irritation creasing his brow.

“Whatever I might be doing is of no concern to you,” Indigo says.  “You needn't understand. Why must you be so damnably persistent?”

“Because something smells like bullshit,” Grimm says.

Indigo adjusts the fit of his glasses with the push of a finger.  “Perhaps that might be your mannerisms.”

Grimm grunts.  “You’re a mouthy fuck, you know that?”  

“And you are a tiresome meddler,” Indigo retorts in his best icy, dismissive tone.  “Now, if you will excuse me--”

“Wait.”  Grimm’s voice is fraught with defeat and weariness. He steps aside, posture assuming a more neutral stance, the flare of his energy dwindling to normalcy.  “You know what was in my room, don’t you?”

Indigo pauses, gaze steady.  “I do.”  

A rolling gesture of the other man’s hand.  “Well?”

The fact that Grimm’s awareness had been keen enough to hear as well as see “him” was troubling.  Or enlightening.  According to Reginald, it had been a sign. The sign. 

“Come on, Indy.  If there’s some weird-ass dangerous shit going on here, don’t you think I oughta know about it?”

“Indigo,” he corrects sharply. 

 It wasn’t as if Indigo hadn’t the permission to speak of such things.  The opportune moment was now his choice, but he had not expected it to rush upon him quite so swiftly.  Barely 72 hours had passed.  Hardly enough time to acclimate.  Within the tree line, wind rustles the dying leaves like a clatter of skeletal fingers, the intrusion of biting cold a warning of impending unpleasant weather. Or something altogether different.

“I feel it is my duty to warn you that all is not as it seems here,” Indigo confesses.

Grimm cocks an eyebrow.  “Well, no shit, Sherlock.” 

Indigo rolls his eyes. “Honestly, Grimm.” 

He pauses, takes a moment to remove his glasses, and slips them into the pocket of his shirt. “Very well. I haven't the time for ruminations. Before I begin my tale, I must ask for your patience while I secure a few things.  We cannot speak before it is done.  And you mustn’t interrupt, Grimm.  Allow me to do as I will, no matter how peculiar my actions may seem.  Do you understand?”

A slow nod is not exactly the firm confirmation he had hoped for.

“Your word, Grimm,” Indigo says.  “And your silence.”

“Okay, “Grimm says with a shrug.  “Whatever.”

“Not ‘whatever,’ “ Indigo says.  He fixes Grimm with his best serious gaze and extends a hand.  “Your word.”

Fingers engulf his own, rough and warm, and give his hand a firm, gentle squeeze.  The protective energy of Grimm’s grip crackles through his blood, sweeps a chill from his skin, and Indigo uses far more exertion than necessary not to gasp aloud. 

No. Surely not.

Not this crude, yet astute behemoth with tattoos covering every inch of his arms and crawling up one side of neck. Not this abrasive, blunt, and entirely uncouth man. There must be a mistake. It had to be a mistake.

But no matter how he wishes for someone, anyone else, this was the hand that had been dealt. The hint had been present upon first sight, but when coupled with a vow of sincerity for such a simple task, it is undeniable.  

And this man hadn’t the faintest idea about any of it.

Indigo very much wishes he could extricate himself from the possibility of what might be coming.

 “I give you my word and my silence,” Grimm says.

“So it is, then,” Indigo says.  He releases Grimm’s fingers with a slow relaxation of his hand.  “Now.  Close your eyes and turn your back to me.” 

Grimm opens his mouth as if to protest, but a raise of Indigo’s eyebrows sees it shut again and he does as he asked without question or protest, eyes closing and presenting Indigo with the broad planes of his back and shoulders.  

“Do not react,” Indigo says.  “No matter what you hear or what you might wish, remain as you are.”  His voice drops to a softer pitch as he taps Grimm’s left shoulder.  “Be silent.”  And then his right.  “Be still.”  He presses a palm to the center of his back.  “Be invisible.” 

It is not until Grimm’s breathing slows to a steady, rhythmic pulse that Indigo walks around him to the tree line.  He pockets his glasses and tugs the cuffs of his sleeves to his elbows.  Things must be in proper order before any sort of explanation can begin.  

(TBC....)

[ticklygiggles]

Miya&Mia's Tickletober Day 26 - Thunder

Arataki Itto x Gorou

A/N: I'm not quite sure, but I think this is the first time I'm writing ittorou? I hope you enjoy this lovely Faaaabiii ❤️

Itto could hear the soft whimpers under the blankets. It was hard to believe that the brave Gorou was shaking from the thunder outside, but the general had explained to him a long time ago that the noise was unbearable for his ears. The sound, about ten times louder than for a normal ear.

Itto knew that Gorou hated him seeing him like this, but neither of them thought that a short trip to the City of Freedom would end with terrible weather with thunder making the room where they were staying vibrate, or maybe it was just Gorou shaking in fear? 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled under the blankets and Itto gasped. 

"Why do you say sorry?! You didn't do anything wrong, Gorou! Maybe I should be the one saying sorry," Itto said sheepishly, his big hand resting against Gorou's back. ""I was the one who proposed making this trip after all." 

"Don't be silly, how could we know the weather- eek!"

"Eek!" 

Both men froze. Gorou's head popped from under the blanket and looked at his partner with curious, yet teary eyes. 

"Why did you make that sound?" 

Itto giggled, his cheeks a little blushy. "Well, when you held on to me, it kind of tickled my side, here, you see?" He explained, pointing at his bare torso, a spot real close to his ribs. 

Gorou looked at him perplexed before he chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Honestly, your shriek was so loud I barely heard the thunder." 

They giggled, but suddenly both gasped and looked at each other with wide eyes. 

"You can tickle me to not hear the thunders!" 

Gorou laughed, but when another thunder started to purr in the sky, his hands quickly latched to Itto's ribs and the oni threw his head back with loud laughter. 

"W-Wahahahait- ahahahack! I wahahahasn't reheheady!"

Itto squeaked, trying to keep his arms glued to his sides to let Gorou tickle him freely, but gah! It was so so hard. Gorou already knew his ribs were so ticklish and so, he knew exactly how to tickle him to make him shriek with laughter. 

But, even though Itto already felt tears of laughter clinging to his lashes and he was snorting as Gorou pressed his thumbs deep into the spaces between his highest ribs, he was glad his boisterous laughter was enough to make Gorou ignore the loud thundering outside, but he himself thought his laughter was way too loud and somehow felt a little embarrassed.

"How are you this ticklish?" Gorou asked tenderly as Itto threw his head back when Gorou's fingers sneaked under his arms, tickling his armpits. "Is this a disease?"

"DOHOHON'T tehehease mehehehe!" 

"Why not? Does it tickle more?"

"IT DOHOHOES! G-GOHOHOROU!" 

Gorou laughed, "if it tickles so bad, why are you raising your arms?"

If Itto wanted Gorou to forget about the storm completely, then he was more than determined to expose himself as much as possible… even when he was snorting and shrieking like crazy.

"You are so weird, Itto," Gorou said fondly, but his fingers barely took a rest as he tickled Itto more and more. "But I guess you're being more than helpful right now, I can't even hear my own thoughts."

That made Itto laugh harder and his arms went down a little, but he held himself up very well. He wanted to say something, at least let Gorou know that he was glad he was being of help, but his laughter barely let him utter a single word, so he simply nodded, laughing and shrieking and snorting as he patiently waited for the storm to fade away so his beautiful partner could stop suffering. 

He could handle a little bit of tickling, besides… it was really fun!

[dragonmaiden39point5]

No Escape (3)

Aight l waited long enough, here take this.

All characters depicted are over the age of 18

Summary: You grow tired of Bakugo's bad behavior and after 4 years as a couple, you make a run for it.

Katsuki Bakugo x Black!Reader

❗Ft. Dark!Deku❗

Darkfic. Stalking, humiliation, non-con, mild Daddy!kink. Potentially some untagged triggers.

Torino was very happy after the visit with his loved ones. He didn't say anything specific (he wasn't a particularly chatty old man) just that Toshinori-- the man who hired and paid you-- and his stepkid always knew how to put a smile on his face.

You did your standard routine of arranging his meals for the day which was made easier by he and his guests having harvested; Then you were on your way to work via your 18 speed bike.

Even though everything was following your new normal, you couldn't help but get this prickly feeling, like you were being watched. Just like before you left *him*. Customers were unusually scarce and there were dense rain clouds in the sky. As time dragged on during the uneventful shift your stomach began to tighten; It felt like the same one or two black SUVs with limo tinted windows were the only cars you'd seen driving by all day. It couldn't be who you'd thought it was-- Not this far away. Not here where you were safe and self-sufficient...It was certainly your imagination running wild. Just a bit of nerves, like when you first ran. Nevertheless, by the time you got off around 5pm you felt sick. That foreboding, doomlike feeling hung over you even after the clouds had burst and a downpour soaked you all the way through to your underwear as you rode your bike home.

When you got home, it was dark and you were supremely exhausted from riding around with such low visibility. Your clothes sagged off of you, oversaturated with the water that had just bombarded you. Entering through the front door, the cold air from the A/C made goosebumps rise across your skin. You stood there in the entryway for a moment, dripping a puddle onto the rug... "Thunder?" You called out, he didn't come.

You felt a wave of nausea and swallowed dryly; Torino hadn't answered either.

Without hesitation you sprinted upstairs, heading straight for the old man's room. He was fast asleep, under his reading light, radio very low playing on some golden oldies station. You sighed backing away as you closed his door.

Turning around you nearly leapt through the ceiling, covering your mouth in a silent scream. Toshinori's hulking frame stood behind you inquisitively, if not a bit surprised.

"Oh, Hey! You're finally home." He said with a smile, "You, look like you've seen a ghost."

"Ha-ha, hi-- Toshinori. I didn't know you'd be here today is all... I was just.. You startled me."

Toshinori eyed your soaked, trembling body briefly before he responded. "I wasn't supposed to stay, but the news said there'd be some flooding tonight and tomorrow so I decided to stick around instead of heading to my apartment... You know, you should really warm up." He said, careful not to stare and how the drenched fabric clung to your shivering form, how goosebumps were spread across your skin, and how your hardened nipples pushed up against your shirt.

"Oh, I uh, yeah-- Just... Where is Thunder?"

"In my room sleeping. Do you want to check? You seem pretty on edge."

"Yeah..." you nodded, walking carefully down the hallway to the room that Toshinori kept as his own. The door was already cracked, with Thunder laying across the foot of the large bed. As you pushed the door further open, he sat up and looked at you before lazily flopping down in place.

"See? Everything is fine." Toshinori said, from the hallway.

You sighed with some relief, but still a sick, sinking feeling in your stomach.

Maybe it was something you ate.

"I'm sorry. I just... It was a weird day." You lied; Other than a gut feeling it was pretty uniform that there were no customers before a major weather event.

"I'll go get cleaned up... Thunder can stay here since apparently he's so comfy." You forced a chuckle.

"Alrighty." He said eyes locked on you, shrugging. "Have a good night, then."

"Yeah, y-you too." You swallowed thickly, hurrying away, back downstairs.

You scurried through the first floor of the house in a blur hurrying all the way to the basement. Gripping the railing for support, you dragged your feet down to the last stair and sat on it, covering your eyes.

Near tears, you hadn't felt this way in so long. That feeling of being watched, like there were eyes on you all day made you sick. You would've thought that it was just paranoia-- An onset of your anxiety creeping up from back when you first moved, until you heard the rapidly approaching footsteps.

Your blood ran cold as you came face to face with Izuku Midoriya. As you attempted to stand on wobbly legs, he swiftly reached out to firmly grasp your arm. "Hey." He says, "It's been a while."

You couldn't find the words to respond, gulping in air like a fish out of water. Kacchan's best friend. A different brand of the same type of degenerate. He snatched you close, coiling one arm around your waist and using the other to stroke the damp skin on your cheeks. He didn't seem to care that the wetness from your clothes was seeping into his.

He looked at your face with great scrutiny, before moving his lips in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Wow. You are so beautiful up close... I can see how Kacchan got obsessed." He said, sticking his tongue out to lick the side of your face.

Heated tears began to cloud your vision as he started to kiss you. You struggled against his hold, but he owned a gym after all-- You were only tiring yourself out. "Come on now." He chuckled, lifting you up with ease and carrying over your couch, upon which you were dropped upon without care.

"H-how did you find me?" You sputtered.

He lifted an eyebrow, starting to pace; one of his excited ticks. "Funny you should ask. Toshinori is my stepdad. He married my mom before you and Kacchan started dating."

You tried to clear your mind enough to speak but couldn't, instead settling for shakily forcing yourself to stand.

He continued. "I was just coming for a visit now that I have the time but, boy I sure got lucky. Thunder recognized me immediately. I can't believe you moved into a house that my family owns!"

He laughed, almost giddy at the idea of your misfortune, before slowly falling silent and eyeing you up and down. You were trembling violently in the cold air, but you likely wouldn't have fared any better regardless of the air's temperature. He stopped pacing and turned to face you completely, harshly shoving backwards onto the couch and climbing on top of you before forcing himself between your legs. Caressing your cheeks he pressed an excited kiss to your lips, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

You tried not to react, but he was very persistent, holding you in place to let his tongue fully explore your mouth. It had been ages since you were touched in such a way, yet still the tiniest wick of fire began to slightly simmer within you.

You didn't like it.

His hasty, intense approach reminded you of Kacchan and then suddenly you felt the anchor of guilt comfortably settling in with the hyper-alert anxiety that plagued you... And that tiny ping of arousal. His intensity lessened and he pulled back a bit, gazing into your eyes as he pecked and licked at your lips.

He stroked one of the stray curls near your ear that had escaped your high puff. "Gotta get you out of these wet clothes." He said, just above a whisper. That was all the warning you got before he leaned back and snatched his own shirt off, before pulling your own above your head along with your sports bra. With tremors still running through your body, your hands flew to your bare breast to cover them but he snatched them away with a petrifying amount of force.

"Don't be shy now," he chuckled, "With all the pictures and videos of you that Kacchan has shared, I know what you're *really* like." Undoing his pants, he thick erection sprung free and he pinned your wrists, squeezing them with an excess of force until you whimpered. "Play nice." He hissed, grinding against you.

You could feel all of him, the full girth of his dick as he fucked against the outer layer of your thin workshorts. He rubbed insistently over where your clit was, precum leaking from the tip and smearing all over the black fabric, effectively soiling them. You felt the betrayal of your body as your pussy throbbed from the continuous nudging and he began to kiss you, sealing his mouth over your own.

Maybe you should've bit him, screamed, knocked something over-- anything at all-- But your brain stalled out and blanked, leaving you frozen in apparent surrender. His hands released your wrists and moved to your tits, exploring the soft mounds nearly frantically. He squeezed and pinched, teasing your dark nipples as he molded and pushed the supple flesh.

Throat tightening and eyes stinging, you moaned underneath him. Your body was not your own and moved without thought as you subtly wiggled your hips.

"That's right." He huffed, "I know you like it..."

Suddenly gripping your shoulders, Midoriya jostled you around until you were laying flat on your back and he was shoving his pants the rest of the way off. He moved to sit on your chest, dick resting right between your tits. He gripped them firmly and pushed them together as he thrusted in earnest, more of his pre leaking out to defile the tender flesh.

Your eyes burned with tears, shame flowing through your veins that you could actually feel that excited wetness building up between your thighs. You had to resist the urge to reach down your pants and pursue rubbing that nagging feeling of need until you soaked yourself with release.

Midoriya's dick was swollen to full size, ready to burst and empty on you. He grabbed you by the hair and scooted up your body a bit further, now overly urgent to chase his orgasm in your mouth. To him you were so pretty when you cried, he wasn't like Kacchan who didn't care for tears. The big sad droplets pouring off of your face only motivated him to further fuck down into your intake. He loved the way your lips strained around his girth and how you gagged miserably as your already tight throat attempted to squeeze him out. He didn't stop as you sputtered and drooled around him-- that was a part of the excitement. A woman's throat constricted on its own when she cried-- as well as her mouth being hotter and more full of drool... He took one more glance at you pinned between his legs and finally came. You choked harshly but he held your head still until he had emptied every drop of the warm semen into your mouth.

You still throbbed with unspoken pleasure, even as Midoriya pulled away his fully spent cock and collapsed into the other corner of the couch with a happy sigh and left you coughing with a mouth full of his load.

You sat up slowly, cum dripping down your front and all over your hands. A small sob came from your chest and you sniffled your runny nose.

"You know, you're never gonna get away again right?" Midoriya snarked, "What do you think, Kacchan?"

You startled, wiping the tears that blurred your vision and looked across the room. Sure enough, there was the only person who had gone out of their way tomake your life a living hell, right there on the love seat.

💥💥💥💥💥

[hermit-lover]

Hi! Could you write a romantic Mumbo x reader where the reader is Iskall's sibling? Mumbo realising that he's caught feelings for his best friend's sibling, friends to lovers type beat, inspired by Accidentally In Love by Counting Crows? just lots of fluff :))

Oh no.

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

Character: MumboJumbo X Reader

Type: Blurb (~1.5K)

Theme: Fluff, Romantic

Summary: Stealing materials from your sibling Iskall evolves into much more then you bargained for. Not that you're complaining.

TW: Innuendos, flipping someone off

A/N: I may have made reader too cocky- I just like flustered Mumbo, okay??! I don't watch Iskall much so I'm hoping this is alright, heard their character used They/Them pronouns so that's what I used :).

"Iskall!" You call, voice carrying through the warm spring air. It was excellent weather, and most Hermits were taking advantage of it by grinding out their Megabases or farms. You had joined the trend, digging into your shulkers and building as much as you could. That was, until you happen to run out of logs.

The cobblestone under your feet guides you towards your siblings base, placing your bets that they had the exact same idea as you. Buds and blooming flowers lined the path, inviting you towards the structure. You always admired their builds, but couldn't help mentally critiquing a few details. It was your relationship; advice through teasing. Helped you a ton to learn redstone. (Although there was still room for improvement). "Iskall!!" You yelled again, head tilting as voices fluttered through the space.

"Over here!" Their voice replied, and you adjusted your steps to be-line towards them. Stepping around a wooden post, you spot two figures hunched over a contraption, speaking in a low whisper. Dropping into a crouch, you take careful steps towards the pair. A smile tugs at your lips, and you have to stifle a chuckle. This was so dumb. As you draw closer you identify them, your sibling of course, and Mumbo. Perfect targets. Once you deem yourself close enough, you lunge forwards. Punching them both in one swoop.

"Boo!" You exclaim, grinning.

"OH MY-" Mumbo leaps up, straightening to his full height and then some. Nearly crashing into Iskall with the force of his reaction.

"AH-" Iskall flinches, narrowly avoiding Mumbo. You burst into laughter, doubling over from the force of it. You can hear the pair start to laugh themselves, Mumbo heaving with hand on his chest like an offended Victorian lady. The sight only makes you laugh harder. Iskall winds back and punches you, knocking you sideways into Mumbo, who struggles to catch your body, weak from laughter. "I hate you." Iskall decides, trying to push down their smile.

"I love you too." You wheeze back, clinging to the lanky redstoner for support. Its not hard to notice how Mumbo tenses up, and how he quiets down. He always seemed a bit shy around you, which was weird considering you were his best friend's sibling. He practically sees you everyday. If you said you didn't find it endearing, you'd be lying. Although it did get in the way of bonding, which was a shame considering your tiny, itty bitty, absolutely massive crush. Trying to hide it from Iskall was fruitless, they could read you from a mile away. Realizing you were still practically hugging Mumbo, you release the poor man.

"Sorry Mumbo." You grin, definitely not sorry at all. He sighs, running a hand through his hair to smooth it back into place. Cheeks flushed, avoiding your gaze. You wish you could reach up and tussle it, but you didn't want to give him a heart attack. Again. It always looked better when out of place in that messy, intimate way. A cough jolts you from your thoughts.

"Did you come over here just to stare at Mumbo?" Iskall asks, amusement coating the words. They have a hand on their hip, eyebrow raised.

"Maybe I did." You respond cockily, crossing your arms. "What of it?" Glancing back to aforementioned redstoner, his cheeks were even more flushed then before. A small surge of pride makes your own face warm.

"I'm flattered." Mumbo jokes, avoiding eye contact. You tilt your head back to Iskall.

"Besides enjoying the view-" you glance at Mumbo again to watch him choke on air. "I'm here to steal your dark oak logs." Iskall groans, turning back to their redstone.

"Just make a tree farm." A beat, "besides, Mumbo can give you all the wood you need." They wink with their one good eye, and its your turn to die.

"Iskall!" You screech, lunging forward to grab them and wrestle them into a head lock. They resist, plucking you off your feet and throwing you over their shoulders.

"I'm not wrong!" They assert, "All you need to do is-" You practically stick your hand in their mouth from how hard you grab their face. Iskall retaliates by licking your hand, causing you to jolt away.

"You're disgusting." You shoot back, face hot from embarrassment.

"And you-" They slide you off, "are incredibly annoying." You scoff, crossing your arms.

"Whatever. I'll just take the logs anyways." You turn sharply away from Iskall, holding your head high as you stalk away. They groan. "Bye Mumbo!" You turn to wave, shooting him a smile. He waves jerkily back, looking mildly horrified. Did you traumatize him with those comments? Once you make it to the corner, you hear a whisper. If it weren't for your excellent hearing you could've missed it.

"Oh no." Sighed from Mumbo's lips. Slipping around the wooden post, you pause. Pressing yourself against the wall and straining your ears. Spying was a bit low, sure. But you were curious! Plus, if you messed up and we was uncomfortable you could apologize.

"What's wrong?" Iskall asks, genuine concern tinting the words. There's another beat of silence and then Mumbo speaks.

"I-I" He tries to begin, taking a deep breath. "I think I like them." He sounds like he bracing for a hit. He...he likes you?

"Like?" Iskall repeats, now sounding more invested. "Like how?"

"Like-Like" Mumbo specifies, and you nearly laugh from the phrasing. But...he likes you. In the same way you like him. Excitement brings a grin to your face, pumping a fist in the air. Yes! You had a shot! Iskall's laughter brings you back to reality.

"Dude, you're just figuring this out?" They manage between pants. You can practically picture the scene, Mumbo standing too-stiffly as Iskall throws their head back howling.

"W-what do you mean?" Mumbo asks, genuine offense in the tone.

"You've been my friend how long? Of course I noticed you eyeing up my sibling." Their phrasing is more crude then you would've put it. But the point remains.

"I was not!-" Mumbo goes to defend, voice raising in octaves.

"Chill- I totally support you." Thats a relief. By now they have calmed, probably relieved they don't have watch the pining any longer

"Really?" Hope coats his words. Gosh you adored him.

"Yes. Now go get 'em. I know you're listening!" Iskall raises their voice and you jolt. Oh shoot. Rounding the bend once more, you hold your hands up in surrender.

"In my defense, talking behind someone's back is rude." You offer a sheepish smile. Mumbo stiffens, eyes wide. Iskall nudges him, and he breaks from his trance, stumbling towards you.

"I- um..." Mumbo rubs the back of his neck, eyes locked to the ground. Shoulders tense, legs locked. Poor man looked to be in fight of flight.

"Relax." You command, reaching a hand forwards to rest on his shoulder. He slowly relaxes. "I wont bite-" a cheeky grin, "unless you want me too." Mumbo sputters something and you retract your hand to cover your mouth as you laugh. His face practically glows with blush, small beads of sweat cling to his hairline. His tie is askew from nervous habit, and he has ditched the suit jacket. The sleeves of his shirt are stained red from the electric powder, some clinging to his cheek stubbornly. "sorry sorry-" you offer him a more genuine smile, admiring his features. "In all seriousness, I think you're incredibly cute, and smart, and uh-" you cant help but be slightly nervous. "I feel the same way." His eyes snap up to your own.

"Oh-" He deflates with how he relaxes, relief evident. "That's- that's good!" He smiles, nodding once. Unable to hold back any longer, you reach up to tangle your fingers in his sleek black hair. Shaking your hand vigorously back and forth to displace as much as hair as possible. It falls forwards on his forehead, creating that impossibly adorable look you hoped it would. Suddenly your stuck by how intense his gaze is, brown eyes glittering with what you could only describe as love. You lean forward boldly.

"So what now?" You murmur, staring up through your lashes. His blush turns impossibly darker.

"I um-" he fumbles only a moment. "May I kiss you?" His voice is husky, hope and affection spilling from every word. You sharply intake a breath. You hadn't expected him to be so bold. It was adorable.

"Of course." You reply, leaning impossibly closer. Your chests bump, and you link your arms behind his neck to pull him in.

Sparks fly, completion exploding in your chest. His lips are soft, and oh so gentle as they barely brush your own. Longing for more, you tug him more. Connecting them harshly. He hums surprised into the kiss, but melts under your touch. His mustache tickles, and sort of gets in the way. But its so charmingly Mumbo you wouldn't have it any other way. His arms are firm around your waist, shirt soft wherever it makes contact with skin. You want to kiss him until breathless-

"Get a room!"

You just flip them off.

[whumpbug]

Hi Bug! It's Christmas anon again. So you know when I said I was working on a new fanfic? I'm not gonna spoil it too much, but let's just say it has to do with a torture/hostage situation and the hostage in question may or may not be Archie...

So here's why I'm in your askbox now: I'm running out of torture ideas. What are some things you think would be fun to torment Archie with? And I'm mostly talking about physical torture, not psychological.

Also, I should probably mention that he doesn't have his enhanced senses / most of his regular powers because he's been dosed with this superpower-suppressant thing

Get back to me when you can? Thanks!!

anon!!!!! hello!!!!! its so good to speak with you again!!!!!!!!! and oh my gosh this is so exciting???? i am personally SO excited for any fanfics from you because your writing is AMAZING. AND its a hostage/torture fic???? ohohohohoh

as for ideas: i have a few but mind the content warnings so see below the cut!

cw: starvation mention, hand trama mention

✮⋆˙

starvation. strength suppressants or not, archie would still need to eat a lot to maintain his metabolism just based on the nature of how his powers work (and permanently altered his body) and though starving him might not have lethal effects right away, the poor boy would be *miserable.* he would suffer. it would be horrible for him

hand trauma. make sure to cw this as needed but its canon that archie has weird feelings about his hands getting hurt (for no particular reason but its a character trait) so break his fingers, stab his palms, wrap his wrists too tight in restraints, etc etc. poor boy would hate it

the classic is drugging/sedating him. archie is so high energy usually that feeling so sluggish out of nowhere would really scare him and freak him out.... especially because of the horrible sensory experience unrelated to his powers

and this is a bit niche but i also love the trope of someone already being sick/coming down with something before they get held hostag so theyre feeling under the weather on top of getting totured and its AWFUL. (thought if you've already wrote most of the fic this one might be hard to implement so no pressure!!)

don't feel pressured to include any of these in your fic!! just ideas that i think poor archie would suffer from (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

i look forward to anything you make anon!! and i'm sorry for being so absent recently!! going to try to get some asks soon! have a nice day/night!

[elkkiel]

“shy” anon,

im gonna play a little bit of catch up here, cause theres some things i missed in previous messages. either the tags or in the replies under them lol

i would love if you drew something for me *flustered noises* your kitty art is my favourite. if youre curious or if it will help, iv is so heart eyes.

ill have to take the time to write out the blondie recipe for you, and ill get back to you with it. ill make sure to include some secrets and tricks in it ;)

as for my project, it is an original work. i cant give you any details about plot. but its a part of a very large series that im working on, like 12 part series (<- that is something i havent told anyone on here, so youre special for getting to hear about it).

weve interacted…id say a semi-decent amount, but id say we’re only acquaintances at most. you definitely know who i am though lol. its fine that you dont want to figure it out, makes it more fun >:)

FINALLY

KITTY. CUTE KITTY. HELLO BEANS *frantically waves* YOURE PRECIOUS. I MUST BOOP. she has such a :3 face. i want to squish her so bad. *cute agression noises*

the weather here has been…idk, alright i guess. we only have a few inches of snow here, but the temps are supposed to drop like -20 something in the next couple days and im NOT looking forward to it. i am so not a cold weather person.

eeooguh texture…its the thing that can ruin super tasty food so quickly.

i dont have any pets at the moment, but ive had lots growing up. dogs, cats, horses, even chickens at one point when i was really young. a pet that i want to get is a Maine Coon.

aside from sleep token, what kind of other music do you listen to? i dont remember seeing you talk about other bands/musicians on here before. second question, if youve gone to any, what was your favourite concert youve been to?

oh goodness, we've got quite the conversation going now, huh? definitely not complaining, though :3

I certainly do feel special getting those ✨exclusive details✨ hehe ^//w//^ that's such a big project wow!!!! have you made any headway on writing it yet, or are you still in the planning phase? how long do you think the finished series is gonna be, like are they short stories or multichapter stories? good on you for committing to something that big lol, I'm a little intimidated just thinking about it

oh, so we ARE a bit more familiar with each other then... well isn't that fun for you? since we've interacted before, and will almost definitely interact (off anon) again. I'll admit that I love me a little game of cat and mouse, especially when only one of us knows who we're playing with *//w//*

chickens!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! there's a backyard hens program in my city and that seems like so much fun!!!!!!!! and a Maine coon would be so so nice 🩷🩷🩷 a big fluffy friend 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

okay!! q&a time!!

I listen to a bit of everything, but I definitely hit metalcore/djent the hardest—it scratches my brain really nicely lol. For the same reason, I like a lot of electronic music too (I'm in a weird, on-and-off drum and bass phase right now) and more experimental alt pop.

bands/artists I like: thrice (beggars album and earlier), spiritbox, jinjer, alpha wolf, thrown, electric callboy, vukovi, ice nine kills, poppy (her heavier stuff), polyphia, mothica, nothing but thieves, etc etc lol. Sorry for the grocery list of names :P

and I've never actually been to a concert before! I'm seeing killswitch engage in Calgary next year, so that'll be my first one!

again, I'll hit you with an uno reverse and pass the question back to you :3 what's your taste in music look like? you're already into sleep token, so I'm sure it's *chef kiss* lol

[impishjesters]

Under the Weather

Rhett (tadc OC) x Sick Reader

warning(s): none, just sweet cute shit A/N: I forget how we got on the topic, but my friend and I were chatting about a sick reader and Rhett feeding them soup and this... was just so fucking funny to me I had to write it. His first debut and I'm already bullying him, I'm sorry my dear. (Also hehe, the reader got a lil virus, you poor baby)

“A-a-achoo!”

A dribble of snot ran down your face and was quickly wiped up with a tissue. “I know you caught a little bug, but I’m starting to think it might be a bigger bug than Caine anticipated.”

“Nuh-uh..” You sniffled, gently batting his hand away to take the tissue. After blowing the gunk away and bundling the tissue up, Rhett extended his hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust at the idea of putting your snot-filled tissue into his hand. “I’ll be fine.”

Rhett looked you up and down, taking in your disheveled appearance. “Clearly.” You gave a weak swat to him and he easily caught your hand, stealing the icky tissue and tossing it in the bin. “How about you lay here and rest, and I make you a nice bowl of hot soup, yes? It’ll help soothe your throat, give you something light in your tummy, and help get all that icky snot out.”

Some soup did sound pretty good right now. You aren’t sure about how well it would help. The bug part was quite literal after all, so unless that soup had some magical bug-be-gone data in it, it wouldn’t do any good. But your boyfriend was being such a gentleman and it was clear as day that he wanted to take care of you—like he always did.

Maybe you’d humor him this one time and let him pamper you.

“Okay,” his center eye widened in surprise, you usually put up a fight.

“Okay?” he repeated.

“You can make me some soup and I’ll lay back and rest.”

The pupils in two of Rhett’s eyes turned into hearts, doing a silly little side-to-side dance before returning to normal. It was weird when you first saw it, his eyes acting so independently from one another—as if they had a mind of their own. Until it happened again, and it only took a bit of piecing together that it was a happy reaction.

With a lack of face to show his emotions, his eyes would quite literally be the windows to his soul—and emotions.

You still aren’t very proficient at reading him very well though.

He moved the tissue box closer and pulled the blankets up and under your chin, tucking you in. “I’ll be back before you know it.” The lower eye closed as he leaned down, giving you his version of a pseudo kiss.

Rhett left, leaving you alone in bed with the lights dimmed.

You drifted on and off until the sound of the door woke you up, your boyfriend’s body creating an unsettling headless shadow that nearly startled you. Still getting used to that.

“Ah, I’m sorry did I wake you, dear?” One hand held a bowl of soup while the other closed the door behind him before making his way toward your bed. “I tried to be quick, but you know Bubble trying to help only to further prove a nuisance.”

A hoarse little giggle left you before making you cough. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

He set the soup aside and sat on the bed, fluffing pillows up behind you before helping you settle into them. Once you sunk back into the pillows he simply sat there for a moment, taking in how cute you looked before snapping out of it. Right, soup first, admire later.

Rhett grabbed the soup, stirring it before lifting the spoon full of broth. A classic chicken noodle soup, if your nose can be relied enough on to go based on smell alone. He held the spoon up ready to blow on it and froze, was something wrong? You whisper his name, throat too sore.

The spoon was placed back into the bowl and brought back up, he froze again and all several eyes stared intently at the spoon in hand. Each eye was wide, staring at the spoon as if it threatened to kill his dog.

“Rhett…?” He was starting to worry you now. “You don’t have to feed me I can—”

“N-nonsense..! It’s still hot after all.” he cleared his throat, central eye focused on you while the other continued to stare intently at the spoon. “I-I’m sorry my love, I.. I seem to have made a slight miscalculation.”

“Miscalculation?” You sat up slowly, using the pillows as a crutch, and glanced at the seemingly normal bowl of soup. “What’s wrong with it? Did Bubble do something?”

“N-no..” Rhett shifted uncomfortably when your gaze moved from the soup to him. Lowering the bowl to his lap he looked away in a way that could only be conveyed as nervously. “I wished to feed you the soup but.. it’s hot..”

“Well yeah,” you grumble, clearing your throat. “It’s soup, fresh soup… it’s gonna be hot. I don’t—”

Hot soup. Feeding you. His words repeat in your head again and again, he wanted to feed you but it was too hot—oh. That poor baby couldn’t blow on the soup.

“I-I can feed myself, it’s okay!” You push forward and reach for the bowl just for Rhett to pull it just out of reach. “Sweetie, it’s okay. Really.”

Rhett doesn’t look at you, in fact, none of his eyes are looking remotely in your direction. He didn’t think this out—he of all people didn’t have the foresight to realize the error in his romantic gesture. He failed to take into consideration that with no mouth it meant he couldn’t simply blow on the hot soup before feeding you every spoonful.

While Rhett was having his moment, you cautiously took the bowl from his hands and set it on the side table. One eye flicked to you before immediately looking away, okay so he was slightly aware despite having his little realization.

He moved before you could, turning his back to you and face-planting directly into the bed sheets. You expect his groans to be muffled but they aren’t, he’s just groaning and muttering to himself along the lines of ‘how stupid’ he is.

It’s a little dramatic but he is a romantic. So he puts his heart into everything when it pertains to you or the ones he cares about. But you can’t help but find a bit of joy in his torment, the usual big-hearted gentleman reduced to whines and groans all because he couldn’t blow on your soup.

What a fuckin goober, god you love him.

“Rhett… Look at me.” He groaned, refusing to move from his little self-pity moment. “At least give me one eye?” Another groan but this time one of his eyes looked your way. It was creepy watching the eye completely rotate around like that, at least he did what you asked.

“You know I don’t think less of you for this right? Not being able to blow on my soup, it’s not the end of the world.”

“I know dear, I just—it was such a perfect plan. Spoon feeding you soup until you were full, then watching you get sleepy with a full tummy.” Was he describing a kitten or a person? “Then I’d just climb in bed with you and hold you close and keep watch while you rested. It was supposed to be perfect,” he whined.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware of the singular squinting eye judging your eye-roll. “So one little thing went wrong, I can still eat the soup on my own—” he whined, “fine you can feed me, I’ll blow on my soup and we can cuddle afterward. It’s not completely ruined.”

Rhett lifted his head slightly. “It’s only ruined if you let it be ruined.” You added.

“Fine… I suppose that’s an acceptable agreement.”

A convenient tickle hits your throat causing you to cough, Rhett leaps up nearly knocking you back in the process only to steady you. “I’m sorry, your throat must feel awful. Here.” The soup is back in his hands in no time, by this point the soup should’ve cooled down enough to render blowing on it pointless.

The first few spoonfuls are consumed messily, Rhett wiping up every dribble with a napkin before carefully feeding you more. By the bottom of the bowl, you felt stuffed, the soup was light, more focused on the broth than the noodles and you were grateful for it.

He gave your mouth another gentle pat of a napkin before setting the bowl aside. You lied down with his help, getting snuggled under the blankets before patting the spot beside you. Rhett hesitated before removing his shoes, slipping under the blankets with you.

You let him get comfortable before practically draping yourself over him, laying half on him with your leg thrown over his. He made your bed look tiny with his taller body, but managed to easily lift you and scoot himself further into your bed. If you were going to use him as your mattress he wanted to ensure that neither he nor you would risk falling off.

Not that he’d let you of course. You were going to rest and he was going to keep a vigilant eye—eyes, out while you rested.

Rhett let a hand idly rub at your back, his central eye gazing down at you. “Rest easy my dear. You’ll feel better in no time.”

[an-au-blog]

Thinking about Shuggy college au and got to thinking about the relative ages of other characters and now I’m thinking of end of High school aged Frobin. Robin is that loner goth girl turned popular goth girl that is still seen as a bit odd but she’s smart and helpful and has a slightly morbid sense of humor that just endears her to her classmates. Franky is that loud jock who comes to school in way too short shorts even when the weather doesn’t permit for it. You’d think he’s a huge dumbass from the way he acts sometimes but he actually knows a lot of stuff and gets decent grades and is pretty nifty with machines (Also sometimes babysitting his kid neighbor Usopp and teaching him how to not hit his thumb with a hammer). Both of them having this kind of „end of a slow burn“ relationship where Franky is trying to gather his nerves and tell his long term friend that he has feelings for her and it’s completely fine if she doesn’t, but also she’s going to move to college after the end of this school year and he’s afraid about what that means for them and not to mention he’s „smart“ but Robin is like „SMART smart“ and is going to study history and oh GOD what if this is the thing that makes them loose contact and Oh god, oh no, oh fuck.

… probably ends with her just spontaneously taking his hand and asking HIM out, completely oblivious that he has been fretting over this for almost an entire school year. Just felt like the right thing to do to her. A decision she made right that moment.

I... I never really calculated her years in the college au and at first I thought, pft, she won't be that old but then... like she IS around 10/11 years older than Luffy and assuming he's around 5/6 she'd be in her last years of school omg D:' I'm supposed to be good at math how did I not see this???

Also you have no idea how happy I am, this is my first frobin ask I was so happy when I saw it and then my happiness doubled because it's the college au hahaha :')

If I haven't given you a name, can I call you Franon? Or Fronan?? (haha cuz frobin + anon...)

(Edit: by the time I was halfway through writing this post, I realized I've written an entire subplot lol':))

Robin is definitely that weird kid in school that's a bit too smart for her own good and most teachers just think she's a smartass. The type that even though she moved schools and now she's pretty (and still a bit weird, just hides it better), she still has the outcast mentality. She doesn't know how to be herself and she definitely doesn't know what to do, react or even comprehend that someone wants to be friends with her. Let alone to be interested in her romantically.

Franky on the other hand is so outgoing because he's so weird. People will see him in a blizzard in his short shorts and sunglasses and go "how the heck are you not cold". He'd respond with "oh, I'm freezing! I have a parka and two cotton shirts under there!" and people would laugh along. The type to high-five and greet random people he's talked to once as if they've been friends for ages. I feel like he'd also kinda be the class clown but in a somewhat respectful way. There's a meme about someone calling Prometheus a mad lad and then Hermes a Chad, and I feel like that would be his vibe.

Also, I'm sorry Fronan/Franon, but I'm absolutely stealing the idea that Franky babysits Usopp and they have fun arts and crafts type of bonding. He'll need it for the stuff I've been planning for him and Yasopp >:]]]

Everyone assumes he's a moron, but it's until Robin sees him in one of his extracurricular advanced classes that she realizes he's not only smart but funny and fun to be around. It turns out that they also have a lot in common and quickly become friends.

Also him overthinking it and her asking him out is so on brand imo and I absolutely love it. And maybe here comes into play the fact that he's so friendly with everyone so he automatically assumes people like him so he doesn't know what signs for romantic feelings look like? And how she doesn't think anyone could like her in that way? I can imagine him trying to talk himself out of it because she's going places and what could he give her to make her be with him anyway. While she's sitting next to him already planning a schedule for their talks for their long distance relationship.

And of course, their long distance relationship works very well. They both love each other so much they try their best to have at least two or three nights to talk. In fact, their relationship has a very strong foundation of getting to know each other because of the physical separation.

Or so I'd like to think hehe :')