#he's like. so silly but so fucked up. i hope the hopeless actually comes out i want to see how he deals with that crushing grief. i mean wh

[automatonknight]

OH I WILL ! CHECK OUT THE VIDS WHEN I HAVE THE CHANCE.. [the horrors of having no free time nowadays] and. looks at you with my big autistic eyes. tell me more about benny? :0

YAHOO!! I HOPE YOU'LL HAVE FREE TIME SOON ALSO YOU DESERVE A GOOD LONG BREAK!!! STAY STRONG OUT THERE BOSS YOU GOT THIS!!! ok ok so benny AAUGH benny. AGAIN SPOILERS ahead. i guess it's convinient, he has like. probably the most fletched-out story out of all the characters since he's the one you control, even when rodriguez, who is normally the leader, joins your party. although in the rodriguez route benny doesn't reflect all that much on his life from what i remember. speaking of reflecting on his old life! if rod dies and the story kind of, goes how it usually goes, at certain points you get flashbacks to benny's life before the flash. he worked at a burger place with his friends (clyde and liam) where rod was their manager. besides the two guys he was also friends with a girl named amy (at least i'm pretty sure that's her name, based on the fact that a joy mutant called the same thing uses the move "familiar cry" which implies that you knew that person, but also in the hopeless (an in-the-works sequel to the hopeful) it seems like that childhood friend is alive?? idk i'll keep calling her amy it's shorter). she's stated to have friendzoned him and (as i interpret it and i might be a little biased as someone aroace) if im being honest he doesn't really look like he cares that much? if anything clyde and liam (the latter actually called her out for "leading benny on" once) seem to care way, way more.

^i like this dialogue (it goes clyde, benny, clyde btw) i think it's funny but it also serves as an example. he doesn't even get what they're talking about, i think he just doesn't give a shit about "getting their relationship to another level", thruthfully. ok benny aroace icon headcanons to the side, coming back on the tracks um. so benny's like, well he's trying his best as a leader if rod dies, he's pretty much the sole party member to try and support his friends and cheer them on. he tries to help lanks after what happened to him when they got captured by the lovelies at the beginning of the game, even though he doesn't exactly know how to do that. in, geez i think clyde's route? he gets shot through the eye, which either turns him into a joy mutant or eventually kills him later on. i can't for the love of me remember what happens in liam's route but he for sure dies, since it's not his route. in rod's route they just all die at the end. NOW. in benny's route at the sportsdome, he gets shot in the knee, lanks gets taken and clyde gets set on fire but survives (if he isn't joyed). they fight on a little more but both of his friends eventually end up dead, so he tracks the lovelies down and kills them. the final boss is in every route, a guy named hart, the leader of the lovelies. beltboy's run actually has one of the more difficult versions of this fight BUT what is interesting is that for the first part (before hart turns into a joy mutant, beginning a phase 2 of sort) liam and clyde actually ARE THERE TO HELP!!! like. in benny's spirit. this doesn't happen for liam or clyde, they're stronger because of their anger and grief, especially liam, but i think what allows benny to win is his kind attitude and frienship, which is really cheesy but idk what other way i could interpret that. THIS also. allows him to survive in the end! as five is relieved that he's approached her like a normal person and gets him patched up. idk idk he makes me feel so many things. kind of unrelated and again, i'm probably biased cuz i love projecting, but i think reading him as an aroace man like. makes sense. i see a lot of how i think in him. he does make comments about "getting the girl", yes, but i think that's more to like, please his friends and keep their spirits up or whatever. other than that he seems disinterested in a romantic relationship with amy, it doesn't bother him at all it's not sexual or anything, he tells five that "he needs a friend" when he stumbles into her hideout half-dead after the fight with hart. aroace guy TO ME!!

^me right now as we speak btw. more dialogue propaganda also

and he loves his friends!! ok i think that's all i can recall

#ask #i'm sorry this is more like. a ramble i have troubles with not trailing off and shit #i have a few additional notes about the game i typed out to kind of organize my thoughts about it but i think they're a tad #too personal for me to share them here. i'd be happy to dm them to you on discord or tumblr though if you wanna!!! #AND ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU SO SO MUCH!!! benny's my darling sweet boy i want to lift him up and spin him #long post #he's like. so silly but so fucked up. i hope the hopeless actually comes out i want to see how he deals with that crushing grief. i mean wh #said that

[lovings4turn]

જ⁀➴  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋  . . .  (𝐆. 𝐑.)

— two things are definite: you like george, and george likes you. unfortunately, you two seem to be the only ones who don't see it.

+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! love this song and i was so excited to use it for a george fic, so i hope you enjoy <3

“oh mate, you’re joking.”

“shut up!” george huffed, running the palm of his hand down his face in exasperation. “it was not that bad.”

he could defend himself all he liked, because in spite of that, george knew it really was.

this was possibly the third time this month that george had fumbled his chance to ask you out, and alex was beginning to grow tired of his friend’s constant pining and lingering stares. 

“here’s what you’re gonna do,” alex said, his voice growing more serious as he looked george dead in the eyes. “you’re gonna ring y/n, and you’re gonna tell her you forgot something at her place. a shirt, socks, anything.”

"but i haven't?"

"not the point," alex groaned. "you're gonna tell her that, so you have an excuse to turn up there. this is your chance. don't be a stupid. tell her you think she's cool, that you like her, something to charm her."

george still wasn't convinced. his brows were pinched together as he ran over alex's plan in his mind, able to find a thousand different ways it could go wrong for him.

"right. and what happens when she realises that i haven't actually left anything there, and i just look like a massive twat for showing up?"

alex wasn't sure that he could take any more.

"mate, you can't just sit around and wait for some sort of fairy tale ending to come out of nowhere for you. at some point, you're just going to have to confess to her."

though he was being assertive, alex was still trying to be supportive, laying a hand on george's shoulder and delivering a friendly pat of encouragement.

"i can promise you she's probably thinking the exact same thing right now, anyways."

george scoffed, his answer hanging in the air unspoken. as if.

unbeknownst to george, alex was a lot closer to the truth than even he may have realised.

the events of the afternoon were playing on a loop in your mind as you tried to dissect every last piece of your interaction with george, from how he'd greeted you - a brief side hug and a smile - to how he'd said goodbye - a weak effort to get you to stay and a silly, yet endearing, wave.

was this your life now? driving yourself mad over even the smallest little details, all because of some stupid feelings?

when you'd first started developing somewhat of a crush on the mercedes driver, you made a promise to yourself that it would never become a thing. and you had kept that promise for roughly four months, until you made a huge error: revealing your feelings to someone else.

ever since you had let it slip to a friend that you actually quite liked george in ways that far surpassed the platonic label, you'd been - for lack of a better phrase - absolutely fucked.

now you had people to fuel your delusions, try to convince you that george had to feel the same way, and no, of course he wasn't just being polite when he offered you his jacket, you fool. outside interference and reassurance should have made you more confident in your feelings, maybe even push you to confess, but instead they'd had the opposite effect.

the weight of the word 'hopeless' in hopeless romantic had really started to resonate with you. though you weren't allowed to dwell on your misfortunes for too long.

some may have chalked it up to fate, some may have attributed it to a divine power wanting to laugh at a poor mortal, but whatever the reason, your phone rang with an incoming call from george.

the stupid candid photo you’d taken as a contact picture flashed up on your screen, and the automatic smile that painted your lips made you want to yell in frustration.

"y/n, hi!"

pathetic was the perfect word to describe you, thanks to how utterly gone you were for george, as the mere sound of your name leaving his lips was enough to make your heart jump.

"sorry, know i only saw you a few hours ago, but i just remembered that i think i left one of my mercedes shirts at yours when i was there the other day."

you didn't even think twice about it, why would you? george had left countless items at your place in the past, and he would leave more in the future.

"no problem. y'can always come by and get it, i'll try and grab it for you."

george's chest ached at how ready to help you were.

"yeah? you're a lifesaver, y/n, really. i'll set off now, should be there in about fifteen minutes."

brief 'see you later's were exchanged, and the moment you set your phone down onto the coffee table, your hunt began.

you didn't recall seeing one of george's shirts anywhere around, but previous mishaps had enlightened you to the fact that things could turn up anywhere. you'd thought that the shoes buried right underneath your bed were odd, until a sock turned up in your bread bin a few weeks later.

nothing was off limits anymore.

yet, somehow, no matter where you looked, you couldn't find the fucking shirt. frustration slowly nibbled at your mind, the sound of a knock being the only thing to break you from your frantic search.

an annoyingly attractive george russell greeted you when you swung open the front door.

in all of the years he'd known you, george thought this was the most adorable you'd looked.

your hair was in disarray, the strands unkempt as though you'd been running your hands through it over and over again. your face shone a little, and you were clearly a little out of breath, if the small, panting gasps you took were anything to go by.

your apartment was a mess, and george quickly realised that you'd turned your entire place practically upside down to try and find a shirt that wasn't even there in the first place.

guilt began to bubble up in his throat, and george hoped that, after today, it would all be worth it. he only had one chance, and he wasn't going to fuck it up.

before he could allow doubt to creep into his mind and sow seeds of regret, george lifted a hand to cup your jaw. the feeling of your soft skin against his palm elicited a gasp to slip from his mouth. the parting of his lips provided you with the perfect opportunity to meld your lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

feelings went unspoken, for now. time would grant you the chance to properly word every last affection you harboured for one another at a later date.

besides, george was a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words, and this kiss was living proof.

george forced himself to pull back, his forehead resting against your own, and he believed that to die like this would be a blessed fate. because you were definitely going to kill him when you found out the truth.

"i lied, by the way. there was no shirt," he mumbled, blue eyes meeting yours with a wince.

"you fucking dick."

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 becca's 'be my valentine' special #george russell #george russell x reader #george russell x you #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Part 8

Part 1 Part Seven Part Nine Link to Ao3

Step 8: Let Him Fail

Babydoll. 

Babydoll?!

What. Was. THAT??? 

Eddie Munson had always been a flirt. A shameless, hopeless, flirt. All of his friends knew it, and they all accepted it with a modicum of grace. They were used to Eddie spontaneously proposing marriage, or declaring to duel for someone’s honor. 

It was one of his self defense mechanisms, a way to hide in plain sight. No one knew when he was actually getting crushes on people- Well no one but Gareth-  because if you flirt with everyone, then no one suspects you’re actually serious when it’s them. 

But this was the first time someone had ever flirted back. 

Eddie now finally understood why Jeff still turned into a blubbering mess anytime Eddie whipped out a shitty little ring he had made out of a wrapper from a stick of gum. He was pretty sure his brain was never going to come back down to Earth now that Steve Harrington sent it to the heavens with three stupid fucking syllables. 

BA-BY-DOLL

It wasn’t even- it had no- it didn’t even make sense! 

No one used the term babydoll except for middle schoolers who were on their first date and eighty year old men talking about their wives. Eddie should be cackling right now, laughing about how utterly ridiculous that little pet name was. It should be silly. It shouldn’t mean a damn thing. 

So why was it working for him?

Why did Eddie want to push Steve up against a wall right now and kiss him silly?! 

Why was his mind letting itself hope that maybe Steve…was being serious too? 

No. Eddie needed to get himself together. That was not happening. That should not be happening. That literally could never happen, and the sooner he accepted that reality, the better.  

This…this whatever this was, was nothing more than Steve teasing Eddie the way Eddie always teased Steve. That was all there was to it. The flirty freak was finally getting a taste of his own medicine from the teenage heartthrob of Hawkins High. 

Nothing more. Never. 

There would be no serenade from the balcony, no racing heart, no chorus of angelic voices harmonizing as Steve cupped his cheek and pulled him in for a kiss. And, most importantly, Eddie was absolutely, definitely, without a doubt, not about to have his crush on Steve Harrington come back in full force. 

Oh, who was he kidding? 

Eddie was pretty sure he had never been more screwed. 

Eddie was so preoccupied with trying to wrap his mind around what the fuck had just happened that he completely missed the small child sitting in his throne, and sat down right on top of the kid. 

“Ouch!”  

The tiny cry from beneath him jogged Eddie out of his fog, and the entire room began to try and hold back chuckles as he looked around confused until his eyes spotted Mike glaring up at him. 

“Steven? Why is one of your children sitting on my throne?” Eddie wondered aloud, asking a question that was far easier to answer than the rest that were currently taking up all the space in his brain. 

“Mike,” Steve sighed from his place in the doorway, hands automatically falling on his hips as he shook his head, “Move. Now.” 

“I like this seat,” Mike said with a bratty little smirk towards his babysitter. Steve rolled his eyes in an extremely theatrical fashion, tipping his head back and exposing the long pale column of his neck. 

Oh, it would be so easy to kiss right on his pulse point, wouldn't it? Steve would probably love that. He seemed like the type to be hyper sensitive, and he would make the most sinfully delicious noises as Eddie’s teeth scraped against-

Nooooooooooo. No no no no no. 

Eddie. Get your shit together. Now. 

“Jackass, you’re gonna get us kicked out,” Dustin said as Eddie mentally began to stab himself in the head. Mike replied by sticking out his tongue, and Dustin’s face screwed up into a kind of adorable scowl. 

“Mike, come sit with me,” Will offered. Mike grumbled, but immediately got up, scurrying over to Will’s side and sharing the chair he had dragged in between Kaiden and Gareth. This was the second time Eddie had seen Will act as the mediator for their little group, and Eddie had a feeling that it was a pretty regular thing. 

Now that his throne was once more vacant, Eddie sat down heavily, blowing all of the air out of his lungs in one big gust. He looked around the table, observing the changes that had been made to the layout. 

Eddie had expected the kids to find a corner to sit in, but instead they had taken the liberty to bring over chairs or scoot in with Hellfire members and start talking with them. It was shocking to see a group of preteens have no hesitation about throwing themselves in with, but Eddie had to hand it to them. It was damn brave.  

The thing that was more surprising was how happy the rest of the club seemed to be with this latest shift. For a group of people who had fought him tooth and nail on allowing Steve into the club, they seemed all too happy to accept the kids. 

Janet was sharing her seat with Max, their heads close together as they snickered about something that was definitely going to be exceptionally devilish. Eddie didn’t know much about Max, but he had a feeling that those two would be a match made in hell. 

Given the look Steve was giving them, Eddie had a feeling he would agree

Dustin had plopped a chair right in between where Frank and Steve were supposed to be sitting. He and Frank were loudly discussing the pros and cons of different character classes, both of them swinging their arms around to and fro with wild facial expressions. Jeff and Lucas were on the other side of the table, talking much more quietly and looking at something on his character sheet. 

Even Gareth seemed like he was into it! The second Mike sat down next to Will, Gareth coaxed him into a conversation about the campaign. They were both looking down at the table, an easy smile on his best friend’s face as Mike’s eyes sparkled with glee. Kaiden and Will were watching the two with soft little smirks, sharing amused eye rolls and gentle exasperated head shakes. 

Eddie’s heart ached ever so slightly as he watched Gareth patiently explain something to Mike, pointing to the map on the table as he spoke. Mike replied with enthusiasm, and Gareth threw his head back, laughing. 

That was the Gareth Eddie loved. 

Some of the tension in his shoulders fell away watching his best friend be the person Eddie knew he was. Gareth had somehow become a stranger almost overnight in so many ways, his vitriol against Steve poisoning his relationships with all of them. It was hard to be around him when he was like that, and an uncomfortable strain had come up between the whole club. 

The strain was gone right now, and Eddie was absolutely elated. 

“Sorry about the kids,” Steve said with an embarrassed smile, “They have no concept of boundaries,” 

“No, this is awesome,” Eddie replied immediately, “You should’ve told them weeks ago,” 

“Dunno why I made it such a big deal,” Steve murmured, his cheeks dusted with a soft rouge. 

“Can we get back to playing now?” Rocky asked impatiently, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him. 

The entire room turned their eyes towards Eddie and he made a show of stretching, settling himself back into his role. His audience had just doubled, but that only made him more eager to get started. Besides he had a feeling Steve’s kids would be expecting quite the show, and Eddie wasn’t about to disappoint. 

“You all tremble in fear as Kris Kringle decides your fates,” Eddie begins in a growling whisper, slowly raising his voice to a loud shriek, “Naughty…..Naughty….Naughty, Naughty, Naughty!” 

The kids began to quietly giggle, and an eager joyful energy swept through the room. Eddie cracked a devious little grin.

“There’s no hope for you now!” Eddie boomed in an over the top accent, “The only way off my list is DEATH! Give in and I will make it quick and, somewhat, painless.” 

The club shared a look. 

“Never!” Hellfire declared as one, and the game was on. 

Having the kids with them only added to the experience. Now that they had an audience, the club members were really getting into their characters. Even Steve was starting to open up more. 

The kids had been sworn to silence, not allowed to make suggestions or tell their respective Hellfire members what they could do, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t react. So react they did, shouting in anger when the party stumbled, giving victorious high fives when they dealt a blow to their holiday themed foe. 

But Eddie was crafty. Anytime Hellfire took a step forward, he would push them back two more, determined to give them an epic fight. 

Maybe a little too epic. There was still one whole final battle to get through according to Eddie’s notes, and it was nearly 7:00. Almost all of the party had escaped the toy factory, but Ex-Prince Stefan was still running around being chased by evil Santa. The ones outside were being swarmed by living snowmen controlled by Kris Kringle. They were throwing snowballs filled with razor blades at them, and the group’s luck was starting to dwindle.  

“We’re getting nowhere,” Janet groaned as Steve rolled a three, once again missing his chance to get out, “Let’s go back in and help him there instead. The snowmen will melt when Kris is dead.” 

“If any of us try to go back in, then Kringle’s lazer beam of pain will vaporize us instantly. You can only get out, not back in,” Kaiden glumly reminded her, looking down at the map where the six of them were surrounded on all sides by little paper snowmen dolls with tiny angry faces.

“If you all try running through at the same time one of you might survive,” Eddie snickered, tapping his chin in mock consideration and loving the glares being shot his way. 

The kids, who had all been starting to squirm around, groaned as a collective. Dustin reached down into his backpack, bringing out a notebook and beginning to furiously scribble something down. As the club continued to try and strategize, Dustin lobbed the paper ball over to Lucas, who caught it midair and studied what Dustin had written down. 

Eddie hummed to himself, watching the kids and wondering what exactly they were planning. 

“Steve- oh sorry- Stefan you just have to try again to get out again,” Jeff decided with a sigh, so preoccupied with their predicament he missed Lucas slipping out of the chair next to him and sneaking over to Will and Mike to show them the paper, “When we’re all out, we can attempt to run,”

“Run?” Steve repeated incredulously, as if the thought of running was simply incomprehensible, “Why?”

“There’s no way we’re getting out of this alive, newbie. Better to live and try again another day” Frank replied, patting Steve’s back and giving Eddie an annoyed look. Eddie shrugged, watching as all four boys ran over to Max and dragged her into a corner of the room, all furiously debating.

“No shame in running,” Eddie offered, wondering how Steve would take it. He didn’t seem like the type to run, but he was also used to Steve surprising him. 

“Why are you all quitting?” Steve said with mild disgust, obviously disappointed by the party’s lack of fortitude, “I’ve been being chased around all alone for like five turns straight, and I still think we can win!”

“We’re quitting because we have nothing,” Gareth snapped back, pointing at the board. 

“Dungeon Master?” Mike said, interrupting the spat before it could become an actual fight. The group turned as a collective to stare at the kids, seeming to only realize now that they had been plotting in the background this whole time. 

“Steve’s Child Number Three?” Eddie responded, watching Mike’s face instantly sour.

“Three?” He shot back instantly, “You think I’m third out of four?”

“I’m organizing you by height, small fry. Except for you Little Red,” Eddie tacked on, adoring the completely cute smirk that fell onto Max’s face when he said it. 

“Could we potentially give Steve just one single suggestion?” Dustin asked before Mike could open his big fat mouth and ruin their opportunity, “Just one. Not even a suggestion, really! Just an… an observation,”

An observation. In any other situation, with any other person, it would be an automatic no, but Eddie was intrigued to see what might come of this unexpected turn of events. 

Still, appearances had to be maintained.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, stretching out the last word as far as it would go, “I don’t remember Stefan’s character sheet including any ghosts of Christmas’ past, present, or future.” 

“Oh c’mon, Babydoll,” Steve said with a far too adorable pout. He made his eyes glisten ever so slightly, which was an entirely unfair move, propping his chin up on one fist and giving Eddie the most perfect sad puppy face he had ever seen, “You still owe me,” 

“Fuck you,” Eddie said immediately, trying to ignore the sharp sudden race of his heart and the way that even his ears were warm at this moment. He threw himself into the scolding mother goose role, knowing that if he stayed as Eddie Munson, he would not be able to resist kissing the tip of Steve’s nose.

“I am your Dungeon Master right now, Stefan, and you will treat me with the respect that comes along with that title,” Eddie said, wagging his finger at Steve and pretending like his hands weren’t shaking ever so slightly. 

Steve chuckled softly, dipping his head down towards his chest bringing just his eyes up and giving Eddie a bashful grin. 

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. He clasped his hands over his heart and began to plead. 

“Pleaseeeee, oh wise and smart Dungeon Master. Please let my brats give me just a single clue.”

The rest of Hellfire began to share glances, some hiding smiles behind their hands. The kids however had all seemed to focus on just a single word of Steve’s begging, and not the absolutely sinful sound of his voice. 

“Brats?!” Lucas scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Never mind let him die by Evil Santa,” 

Eddie snorted, shaking his head. There was a heavenly glow in his chest, and the entire room felt like it was flooded with light. 

“Go ahead,” He sighed, nodding towards the kids. Steve beamed, practically skipping over as the kids reached up and yanked him down to their height so they could whisper in his ear. Eddie watched the sweet sight for a second before someone clearing their throat to his right caught his attention. 

The rest of the club was looking at him with raised brows. The glow disappeared, and the light vanished. He threw them a quick bird, hoping they would just fuck off. Janet shook her head subtly pointing towards the kids and Steve, her eyes wide. 

Oh. Not towards them. Towards the chalkboard that they were standing directly next to. 

Jesus F’in Christ. Eddie’s heart was running for a completely different reason.  

“Really?” Steve said out loud, straightening up and looking at the kids. The boys nodded together and Max shrugged. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Okay,” Steve said in a dubious voice, coming back to the table and waiting until the kids were back in their appointed seats before turning to Eddie. Oh god. This was it. They had been caught. 

“Eddie- sorry Dungeon Master, is Frank’s telephone spell still active?”

“Bard Franklin Fitzman’s telepathic tune is available for 3 more turns.” Eddie corrected with a breath of relief. Steve hadn’t found out. Then his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what the kids had told Steve. 

Why would they care about Frank’s spell? 

“Uh Stefan? That was to try and control the snowmen, and it didn’t work. Their intelligence is ‘too low to be manipulated’,” Frank explained, using air quotes around the last part saying what Eddie had told him word for word when he had tried to control the snowmen and failed. 

“Technically we’re creatures aren’t we? Use the telepathic bond on me,” Steve said, his tone naturally slipping into a leadership role. It wasn’t exactly a command, but it wasn’t quite a suggestion either. 

Eddie half expected Frank to bristle at that, but Frank just nodded along. 

“Am I allow- you know what? Yeah. I use the telepathic bond on Stefan,” Frank agreed, throwing up his hands.  

Well, did that count as progress? Maybe. Eddie doubted that he would have listened to Steve’s suggestion before today. But it might’ve just been because this was the kids’ plan, not Steve’s. 

“Roll a d8,” Eddie said, shrugging. This was unprecedented, completely off script, but interesting. Fine. They could do it, but it would take a lot, “You’ll need at least a 7 to make this work though, it’s a highly unusual way to use the spell,” 

Frank grabbed his die and rolled it across the table. 

Seven. 

Damn it.

“Unexpectedly, Stefan begins to hear a familiar voice in his head. He ducks under another red and white pillar just as Kringle’s sword hits the wood right where his head just was.” Eddie said, rubbing at his temple. He had no clue how being able to communicate telepathically was going to help in this situation, but sure. Whatever. 

“Stefan, I’ve connected our minds. You can speak to me, and I’ll relay whatever you want to say to the rest of the party. Kris Kringle won’t be able to hear it!” Frank declared.

“Perfect. The kids reminded me of something, and it gave me an idea. Oh I mean uhhhhhh the memory of my former subjects came to me and it inspired a plan of action,” Steve said, stumbling over his words as he tried to stay in character. 

“We’re your subjects?” Dustin fake whispered to Steve.

“I’m not good at the improv part of this,” Steve hissed, pushing his chair back and standing, “Team huddle where Eddie can’t hear?”

“It’s a Party Gathering, Steve,” Will called out from where he and Mike were sitting. 

“Fine. Party Gathering then,” Steve amended with a roll of his eyes, waving a hand and bringing the rest of Hellfire into the corner. 

They leaned down low together, arms around shoulders to hide their faces and muffle any words that might have come out louder than intended. Try as he might to eavesdrop, Eddie couldn’t make anything out. He turned a shrewd eye to Lucas, then Dustin but they both just shrugged and gave him shit-eating grins. Even Max seemed unbreakable, miming a zipper over her lips and locking them shut, throwing the fake key over her shoulder. 

This was not going to be good. 

Before Eddie could think too much more, Hellfire returned. Kaiden looked put out, Janet and Frank were contemplative, and Rocky was staring resolutely forward with determination. As usual Jeff was impossible to read, but it was Gareth that worried him the most. 

Gareth looked positively gleeful, which did not seem good given the current situation. 

“Why do you look…happy?” Eddie muttered, narrowing his eyes. 

“Stefan has had a brilliant plan. It had to come from the gods of old,” Gareth replied in his dwarf drawl, “A true hero move,” 

With that incredibly cryptic answer, Eddie finally turned his eyes to their newest party member. Steve was positively gleaming, a shine of victory making his eyes sparkle. 

“It’s my turn, right?” Steve asked, biting at his lip and doing absolutely nothing to hide how excited he was. Eddie cautiously nodded and Steve clapped his hands.

“Okay, I roll to lock myself and Santa in the factory with the magic padlock I found during the Eggnog Trials,” Steve stated. Mike and Will exchanged a high five, and Dustin happily smacked his hand against Steve’s arm. He waved the kid off, waiting expectantly for Eddie’s answer. 

“Use two d8. You’ll need at least a ten,” Eddie said, thinking on the fly. He could not come up with a single reason that Steve would want to stay stuck in the factory, but maybe it was something about sneaking through one of the broken windows or something. 

When Eddie saw the seven and six on the table, he took a deep breath, making a note in his book. The door was now locked, and the padlock was charmed to never be opened again once it was shut. Nothing would open those doors, not even a nat 20. 

“You manage to evade Kris’s grasp, gaining a minor lead in the chase. It’s just enough time to make it across the factory and slam the door shut, locking it tightly.” Eddie narrated, getting back into the swing of things, “Hohoho! All you’ve done is seal your own doom!” 

“Not exactly, Kris,” Steve, Stefan, shot back, looking like the cat that had caught the canary. 

“Jun Iper what’s your move?” Eddie said, turning to Kaiden. 

“I cast a defensive shield on me and Boz,” Kaiden promptly responded, already picking up his d20. He didn’t need a high number to succeed, Kaiden’s defensive magic was almost at maximum level, so despite only getting a nine, it was successful. 

“You both have a medium amount of extra protection. Boz?” 

“I hand Goren the Great my heavy armor,” Jeff replied, clapping Gareth on the shoulder. 

Gareth put the armor on, and that’s how the entire round went. One by one each of them cast defensive move after defensive move until it was Steve’s turn once more. With each move, Eddie’s worry only increased. 

“The rest of the party is as protected as possible for Sir Stefan’s next move. Kris is right on your heels, hungry for the flesh of those on his naughty list, starting with a certain exiled royal,” Eddie said, giving Steve a look. Steve innocently whistled, not keeping eye contact. 

Well. Two could play at this game. Time to raise the stakes a little. Eddie carefully moved his notes to the side before jumping up onto the table, startling only Steve and the kids. The rest were used to Eddie’s dramatics.

“Well well well. Looks like you’re serving yourself up as a present just for me,” Edddie said in a menacing voice, crouching down and getting in Steve’s space, “That’s nice, but not enough to save your life!” 

Steve kept eye contact, staring Eddie down. He still had that twinkle in his eye, and Eddie knew he was done before Steve even spoke.  

“I attempt to throw my dynamite candy canes into the generator and blow up the whole factory,” 

“What?” Eddie said, rearing back and nearly losing his balance. He wobbled at the edge of the table, his arms windmilling as he fell. But, just before the point of no return, a hand shot out, clasping tight around Eddie’s wrist and pulling him back upright. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, concern coloring his tone as he slowly let go of Eddie. 

“Fine,” Eddie replied breathlessly, hoping Steve just assumed it was from almost falling and not because Steve had touched him. He shook his head, climbing down off the table and sitting on his throne. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked, breaking character, “You’re the one saying you want to blow everything up. You’re going to die if you do that. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, but the rest of the party should be safe, right? And Kris will die too, so the snowmen will be destroyed,” Steve said as if it was simple, laying it all out like it made sense. 

The worst part was, it did make sense. It was brilliant. Everyone else would be perfectly fine, losing one single party member was actually a great way to end a one shot, and they would have all of the loot because the stockings were fireproof. 

But Steve dying meant that he wasn’t going to cross that first barrier. He needed to live for this to count towards the JRP. It all clicked into place now. That was the reason Gareth was so willing to follow along with Steve’s plan. 

Damn them! Damn Steve for going for it! 

“There is zero chance of your survival. Are you sure you wish to proceed?” Eddie said, trying again to stress just how much Steve was going to die, “There is no avoiding being killed if you choose this,”

“Don’t worry,” Steve said, lowering his voice and ducking closer so only the two of them could hear, “I already forgave you for earlier,” 

Steve thought Eddie was worried about what he had said earlier. It was so sweet. It was so misguided. 

Eddie was so gone for this beautiful brave boy. 

“Roll the d20. You’ll need a 17 or higher for this batshit, absolutely insane, courageous as fuck move to succeed,” Eddie said, resigned to the inevitable, “As you hold up your red and white crooks of fury, Kringle’s face drops from glorious mayhem to complete terror. His sword clatters to the ground as he rushes towards you, trying to stop your frankly crazy plan from succeeding. The entire world seems to hold its breath as you toss the candy canes towards the main generator. They spin in the air. Will they land where you want? ”

And, sure enough, Steve managed to get an 18. It was the highest roll he had gotten the entire game. 

“Party wins,” Eddie managed to say before the room erupted into cheers. Everyone jumped to their feet, crashing into each other with heavy back slaps and high fives. The kids clustered around Steve, all exclaiming about how ‘cool’ and ‘badass’ he was, and Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair, turning back to give Eddie a brilliant look of joy. 

“Happy Christmas to all!” Rocky declared, throwing his character sheets in the air

“Except Stefan,” Janet pointed out, holding up her first and shaking her head, “Gone but never forgotten,”

“You know I’m right here, right?” Steve pointed out as he started to gather his things, looking at his watch, “Shit. Guys, get your stuff. We’re keeping someone waiting.”

The kids scrambled to get their things, packing up lightning fast, still happily babbling about the game. Steve threw one backpack strap over his shoulder, turning to Eddie and ducking his head. 

“Not too bad for my first time?” He asked, seeming suddenly shy. Eddie grinned, unable to stop himself

“Do you guys hear something?” Eddie teased, cupping his ear, “I think someone is reaching out to me from the great beyond,”

Jeff and Frank both cackled, and Steve rolled his eyes, shoving his shoulder into Eddie’s. A bloom of fire started from their point of contact, traveling all down his arm and into even the tips of his fingers. 

“You did great, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, trying to still sound joking, but knowing it came out far too genuine, “Never could have expected that,”

“Blame the kids. They’re the ones that told me that the party would still win even if one person died,” Steve replied with a shrug. The kids were clustered around the doorway, blocking the exit for the rest of Hellfire and shouting at Steve to hurry up. All of a sudden they were in a rush to get going. 

Steve waved, stepping back as if he was about to leave. Eddie gathered his wits and took the leap, remembering what Kaiden had told him before the meeting. 

“Hey,” Eddie called, grabbing both Steve’s attention and his wrist. He quickly let go when Steve stiffened up, putting space between them. He wasn’t sure if he had just moved too quickly, or if Stve didn’t want Eddie to touch him, but he still wanted to respect boundaries. 

“I still wanna make it up to you for before. Since I ended up having to kill your self-sacrificng ass, what if you came to my show on Tuesday?” Eddie asked, twirling a curl around his finger and chewing on the end. God, he was acting like a lovesick little kid. This was so pathetic. 

“Your show?” Steve asked with a quirk of his head. The kids, done with being ‘patient’, came over and began to tug on his hands, trying to push Steve out the door. 

“Guys, quit it,” Steve said sharply, turning his attention back to Eddie, “Is this a drama thing?” 

“Oh, um, no,” Eddie said, hating how much he loved that Steve remembered he was in the drama club, “It’s a show for our band? Corroded Coffin? We do metal covers and some originals and stuff at the Hideout,” 

There was a brief pause where Eddie’s entire life felt like it was ending. This was the stupidest thing he had ever thought of. Steve Harrington? Metal? The only way those two fit in a sentence together was if you put the words ‘doesn’t like’ in between them. 

There was no way Steve would want to come, and now Eddie was going to have to admit defeat on not just one, but two hurdles for this stupid experiment he had let the club start. 

“I’d love to,” Steve said in a rush, nearly stumbling as his brats continued to push him towards the door. “Guys. We will leave in a minute, Jesus. Should I meet you there?”

“Come to my trailer and you can drive with us! Tuesday at 8 don’t be late,” Eddie offered, mentally screaming at himself. Steve lived in Loch Nora, he probably didn’t even know where the trailer park was. 

But Steve was nodding along, like there wasn’t anything different about Eddie telling him to come to a trailer instead of an actual house. 

“I’ll look for the one that has your van in front of it,” Steve called over his shoulder, finally letting the kids tug him away,  “Can’t wait! Bye!” 

And then he was gone, leaving Eddie alone with his terrible treacherous heart. 

God. What was he doing? 

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

#Steve joins hellfire au #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #steddie au #steddie ficlet #st #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things au #post stancy breakup #post s2 #Steve and eddie #st au #stranger things 2 au #ptsd Steve harrington #Steve Harrington has ptsd #steve harrington #eddie munson #Steve and the party #max mayfield #babysitter Steve harrington #mom Steve harrington #Lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #Mike wheeler #will byers #Gareth stranger things #Jeff Stranger things #hellfire club

[kingprinceleo]

BET YOU DIDN'T EXPECT ME SO SOON

I did the dessert vampires playlist first since it was the shortest!

Stampede- very good interplay with the characters. Gives the vibe of I respect you but we fundamentally disagree on some big issues. Would be fun to play in the background of like a joint operation scheme? like they've gone undercover at a fancy party and this is them working together during it

Vulture- this is such a Shadow backstory song like- i don't know exactly what happens with GUN and Maria in this au but THIS is the song you play to express his feelings. The first verse at least low-key also sounds like Knuckles during or immediately post transformation to Rouge. He's very angy

Welcome to the Circus- a jaunty little tune. bar/saloon coded, probably plays wherever Amy works i think?

Recommend songs for this playlist: Desperado by Rhianna and maybe the entire Anti album based on vibes alone.

Blood Like Lemonade- strong vibes

Trouble Valerie Broussard- more Rouge centric i think

For other playlists:

Like a Vampire Catrien Maxwell, for vamp au Sonic

A Little Wicked - im thinking of Rouge for it but if it fits a different character i wouldn't be surprised

Little Girl Gone Chinchilla - very vamp au Shadow coded imo

Eve Precious Pepala- Shadow coded

All up in your mind- feels like Shadow thinking about Sonic's effect on him in vamp au

Hope these are good and have a nice timezone 🫶🏽. I go to sleep now

~🩸🎵

welcome back fhbghbjfdfdg !!

This playlist is a little more tough to explain bc i havent shared the major plotpoint that changes the whole title of the au fjgfjghf, but ill get there eventually !! Stampede- idrk know how to explain this one beyond its just Them, their conflicts their compromises, how the two are trying to work together in the situation theyre in, big time agree on the respect with huge disagreements tho, thats one of their major sticking points Vulture- RAHHHHHHH THIS IS IS KNUCKLES @ SHADOW !!!!! the entire time its knuckles rage and defiance !!! and im slamming my head into a wall so fucking hard i prommy it makes so much sense when i share the plot Welcome to the circus- its a rouge @ knuckles song ! like i said the subject itself is kinda weak but it hits on some of their core dynamic pieces --- Desperado- this one i could see being very rouge @ shadow but its a bit too forward and honest ! rouge would defo more take the angle of "im following you bc ur hopeless without me <3" Blood Like Lemonade- strong vibes on its own but doesnt particularly fit with anyone at least right now, i might come back to it after fleshing more people out (also i am sadly biased against songs that are kinda slow sob. i need that constant stimulation music {i almost didnt include vulture in the playlist bc of its speed but it was just too accurate and picks up with some heavy hitting stuff near the end}) Trouble- very correct w the rouge part !! defo eying this one up in consideration

---

Like a Vampire- defo not vampire au sonic , it actually lines up more with desert vampires rouge (i adore the singers voice btw omg) idk if its going in any of the au playlists but it sure is going in mine ! dfhhdfhg A little wicked- shrug tbh ! i see it for rouge but it feels like its missing something, her spunk, her 4kids saxaphone (im assuming if you dont specify an au you just mean for the canon gamers !) Little Girl Gone- THIS IS SO VAMPIRE AU SHADOWCORE LITTLE UNHINGED BASTARD !!! the blood on my teeth line caught my attention....and then the screaming part sold me HDSHDHF hes sooo silly <333

Eve- im so sorry im really biased against love songs so i dont see it personally !! esp not for shadow </3 All up in your mind- eeh there are a few lines there that work, but overall just misses slightly. big fan of the idea that shadows just making up all those lines tho and sonics never said any of it, thats funny fdgjfjdgfg i feel bad for not enjoying all of them wahh, but i am just really picky tbh,,, its gotta bounce the braincell right... but i appreciate the suggestions sm!!!! tyyy!! have a good sleep !!!

#my asks #music tag #long post

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 11

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Confession time!!

Author’s Note: ;3 Almost up to the spice. Enjoy x

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3! 

Prev | Next

When I first got to the mountains, Robin was basically all, “Hey girl, did you fuck my son last night?” She just wants her Sebby to find a nice person to settle down with, understandably. And that person happens to be me. It’s whatever, it’s fine, I’m quite obviously not complaining.

But I am going to complain about this:

My back is pinned against the armrest of the couch, Seb caging me in place with one arm and holding my face close to his with the other.  Not doing anything scandalous, basically just absorbing the essence of one another. Deciding whether or not it was the right time for bustin’ moves, if I had to guess what the hell was going on…

And Robin just fucking barges in on us, no knocking or warning or anything. We don’t even hear her come in. Seb mentioned at some point once that she always knocks before entering, at the very least – not this time, that nosy bastard!

We’ve only been like this for, like, a minute or two, maybe less. I dunno, everything feels like slow motion. What are the odds she decides now is a good time to come in? Was she eavesdropping? 

“So,” she startles us, “you kids having fun down here?”

Seb jumps back and yells, “Ma, what the fuck!” as I let my body fall limp over the edge of the couch, hand over my heart. Staring at the wooden ceiling. Wondering, why?

I hear a feminine giggle. “(Y/n)?” Robin calls out to me, leaning around Seb, who’s standing in the way of our line of vision with his hands on his hips.

“Yes, Mrs. Byrne-DuBois?” 

I only address her by last name (she just had to hyphenate Demetrius' onto the end of her’s… that lady loves being difficult in every possible way) when I’m annoyed. She knowingly chuckles at this, that little shi—

“Sorry, sorry, nevermind!” She puts her hands up, defensively.

I lean up fully. “No! Please! Continue!” I urge her.

“Nope! Have fun, be safe, love you!” She laughs making her way to the door. 

Before he can shut her out and as I call out to her again, wanting to hear what stupid little comment she has up her sleeve, she makes sure to remind Seb that he needs protection. He practically shoves her through the doorframe.

“I am so sorry oh my fucking god,” he breathes, leaning against the closed door.

I can’t help but laugh. “Y’know… maybe it’s for the best that she rammed her way in here,” I admit. 

He tilts his head, looking a little hurt. “Why, what d’you mean?”

I breathe heavily, preparing myself for a big ol’ ~official~ confession of sorts. I’ve done this plenty, bless my poor, hopeless romantic heart. Still isn’t easy though.

I cross my legs, nerves catching up to me. “We’re moving kinda quick, don’t you think?”

Seb sits back down in front of me, nodding. “Are you against moving quickly?” he asks.

“No, it’s really exciting actually,” I blurt out. “But I don’t want to, like, mess anything up, or whatever.” 

Seb reaches out for my hand, which I carefully place in his, intertwining our fingers. He props his elbow onto his leg and brings both our hands to his face, leaning his cheek onto them, his eyes still focused on me.

“I fucking like you, dude,” I mutter shakily, refusing to look at him directly. “Like, a lot. I started crushing on you the day we met and I knew it was silly since I didn’t even know you then but it just kept building up into this.” The more I talk, the faster my words spill out.

I uncross my legs and tuck them into my chest, hoping to find safety in hiding behind them, but not wanting to remove my hand from the comfort of his. 

“And I don’t expect you to feel it too. It’s totally okay if you don’t. But, like, if we were to just go ahead and kiss, or more , ya know... or… whatever the hell we were going to do there, I don’t want to get hurt because I’m the only one who–” 

I trail off from my tense rambling because he just kissed the top of my hand oh my god? It’s a tiny gesture, but my heart skipped a beat.

He leans his face back onto our woven fingers, smiling so sweetly, so genuinely, before placing another kiss, this time against my palm. When he departs, he leans down to my hand with his forehead, almost nuzzling into it. 

My eyes are brimming with tears, not like I’m hurt or something, but because I’m just feeling so much right now. Embarrassed? Absolutely. Loved, but also like I’m falling in love, really fucking quickly? Maybe! I don’t know what to say, so I wait for him to break the silence.

“(Y/n),” he eventually beams, “That’s so fucking cool.” He laughs into my hand. As if he, like, worships the damn thing. 

I obviously haven’t known Seb for long in the grand scheme of things, but I haven’t felt this safe with anyone , friend or romantic interest, in years. Maybe over a decade. And not only does that person feel safe with me too — the highest honor, to be honest — but it seems like he reciprocates these stupid little butterflies, the dumb serotonin hits when we’re together, and all that other lovey-dovey junk too, if his reaction is anything to go by.

Probably too good to be true, but hey, I’m fine with riding this out. 

I start fucking crying like a big dumb baby, not knowing how to handle these feelings. Seb looks worried when he sees the tears rolling down my face, but I shake my head, smiling, and just lean forward into the crook of his neck for comfort. 

“You ok?” he asks as he pulls me in closer. I untuck my legs from my torso and retuck them underneath myself.

A muffled “yeah” spills out of my mouth as I continue to shove myself into him, not knowing what else to do with myself. “Overwhelmed,” I sniffle. I feel him chuckle.

“How much time do you have to hang around?” 

I wipe my eyes before looking up at him, in a haze, shrugging. “Not like I have anywhere to be.”

That’s a half-lie. I was still considering going to the saloon, but after all this emotional overstimulation I’m dealing with, I don’t know if a lot of people and loud noises and boozy drinks are a good idea.

“How do you feel about bikes?”

I furrow my eyebrows and sniffle. “Like, bike bikes, or motorcycles?” 

“Motorcycles.”

”They look scary. Never been on one.”

“Do you trust me?”

So much. I simply nod.

“Cool, c’mon,” he gets up, returning his hand into mine to pull me up with him. “I wanna show you something.”

__________________

My legs feel absolutely boneless as I step off of the motorcycle and onto the dirt clearing Seb drove us to. I use his bike for support, while he laughs at me. I probably look ridiculous — struggling to find my land legs, wearing his helmet, which is far too big for my head.

“Not a fan?”

“No, I am, that was fun,” I shakily reply, “just uh… new.”

He’s visibly amused, but looks ready to help me anyway. Not this time, buddy , I can handle myself! I take off Seb’s helmet and carry it in my arms. I imagine that, to him, it probably and unfortunately looks the same as when you go to a state fair or something, and spot a bunch of kids carrying gigantic prize plushies that their parents likely won them. 

I look around, not seeing much. Just trees, some lightning bugs emerging into the young night, and other forest debris. All I can hear is crickets singing and some distant frogs croaking. Hmm…

“This is sketchy, no?”

He slowly begins walking up the small incline we’re on. I take a big step to catch up, now syncing up with his relaxed strides.

“Absolutely, it is,” he agrees. “ Perfect spot for me to kill you .”

He whips out an evil laugh. It’s pretty good, actually. Gave me goosebumps, but not from fear. I mentally spray myself with water. No horny, (y/n)!

“Impressive,” I chirp out. Fuck.

“Oh, that earned me one of your squeaks?”

I bring the helmet to my forehead for a moment, in lieu of a facepalm. He takes it from me while I have it lifted, and replaces it by weaving his fingers into mine. I look at his face, sassily squinting my eyes — but his view stays forward. He has his signature look , clearly proud of his influence on me. Ugh.

“Bro,” I complain, “I can’t help that I’m easy to read.”

“It’s not a bad thing. Quite helpful, actually.”

“Helpful how?”

He doesn’t answer. Another, more calm but just as sinister, chuckle escapes him. 

“Asshole…” I mumble.

“Yeah, but you love it.”

“Whatever.”

“You ready?” he asks, coming to a halt in front of a bunch of bushes. Ready for what, I think to myself? Leaves and twigs and bugs?

I go along with it, morbid curiosity taking control. “Sure…” 

He steps through a small gap between two of the hedges, clearing the way so I can get through more easily. When we emerge, we’re on a cliff, overlooking a distant Zuzu City. 

“Holy shit, Seb,” I whisper, taking in all the lights speckled across the horizon. 

He lights up a cigarette and gets himself cozy on a nearby log, invitingly patting the spot next to him. I join him. 

“I can’t believe I lived there… feels strange. It’s kinda sad to look at, almost.” 

“I feel the same.” He puffs out some smoke, making sure to blow in the opposite direction. What a sweetie. “I come here to clear my head, usually. Think about life without the distractions of other people around, if that makes sense.”

I hum and nod.

A few moments of silence go by, he finishes his cigarette and puts it out in the dirt before storing it in his pocket. I nagged him for littering his cigarette butts in front of the Stardrop once. I meant it mostly jokingly, but as far as I’ve seen, he’s actually making an effort not to do it anymore. Maybe it’s for me, maybe it’s for the environment and the frogs, but I’m not mad about it either way.

“I don’t normally bring girls here…” he speaks quietly. “Don’t think I’ve brought anyone here, actually. You’re the first.”

I tuck my feet onto the log and my legs into my chest, resting my chin on top of my kneecaps. “Yeah?” I smile.

He nods. Breathes out. Does that thing where he gets nervy and picks at his nail polish… I want to hold his hands, maybe calm him down, but if he’s peeling off the paint because he needs to fidget, I don’t want to interfere. I wonder if he’d let me give him a manicure sometime?

Seb looks up at the sky. Not sure if I should look at the sky with him or at the city, I look at Seb, instead. I hope I don’t seem creepy. He’s a prettier view, so it’s really not my fault. 

I observe the curve of his adam’s apple, the point at the tip of his nose, the light stubble from a patch he seemed to miss while shaving, the dark bags under his eyes that give a little extra edge to his aesthetic… aaand, he caught me. My eyes go wide as his narrow.

“(Y/n),” he sings teasingly, in his stupid seductive tone, with his stupid eyebrow wiggles.

“Sebastian,” I challenge pointedly and with confidence.

He scoots closer to me, and I match his movement so that I can lean on him. I’ve come to the conclusion that Seb’s shoulder is my favorite place. He puts his hand on my lower back, and I can feel him fidgeting with the fabric on the hoodie I’ve tied around my waist.

“I… fuck,” he laughs. “This is hard.” 

I smile and nudge him with my head a little. “What is?”

This would be the perfect timing for a “ Haha is it you? Are you hard right now?”, but I exercise restraint.

He stares at me, gnawing at his lip. My eyes dance around his face, eager to find out what he’s going to say. I’ve never seen him look so nervous. 

“You… you meant what you said earlier, right?”

“What?”

“Sorry,” he nervously laughs, “about your feelings for me, I mean.”

I laugh, blushing, and firmly nod. “I really, really like you Sebastian.” Does he not believe me?

“C-cool,” he mumbles quietly under his breath, looking away for a moment, with a smile creeping up on him.

When his eyes return to mine, he tries again. “I’m, like… uh… fucking… oh fucking god damnit are you kidding me Yoba why can’t I fucking speak right now?”

He puts both hands behind his head and stretches his back. I feel bad for laughing, but his frustration is adorable. So many profanities. So little time. 

In the midst of his frustration, he cups my face hard, turning it up to face towards his. Gets my body tingling a little bit, to be honest. He doesn’t say anything, and I’m trying to figure out if I should say something. I put each of my hands on top of his corresponding ones, not quite knowing how to handle the situation. 

He exhales and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m freaking out so much.” 

“It’s okay,” I giggle. 

After another few breaths, he says, “I have something important to say and I’m just...” he grunts in place of words.

I pull my hands away and reach one up to brush his hair out of his eyes, gently cupping his sharp jawline for a moment after. “Take your time, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

He rests his forehead against mine. I gasp. My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my frickin’ chest. I reach back up to his cheek again, pacing my thumb across his skin.

“You… you know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?” he pleads, as I feel his face heating up beneath my touch. 

“I think so, yeah,” I whisper. He visibly relaxes, closing his eyes again. When he opens them, his attention directs straight to my lips. When he refocuses onto my eyes, there’s a glimmer of hope in his own.

“(Y/n), can I kiss you?” he whispers.

I nod, and barely a second later, Sebastian’s lips collide with mine.

_______________

“I’ve been falling for you so hard, you have no idea…” Seb happily whispers onto my lips between kisses. He begins to kiss a little harder, feeling bolder, weaving some more compliments together when he can. “You’re incredible,” “This is so sick,” “I can’t believe you feel the same way that I do.” Etcetera. Stroking the shit out of my ego.

“Hard to believe you were struggling to say anything affectionate just a few minutes ago,” I muse, my lips still brushing his as I pull away briefly.

“Whatever, nerd,” he growls, tugging at my lip with his teeth to reel me back in. Once he’s got me, he slowly lowers my body against the log so that I’m lying beneath him. 

My fingers tangle through his hair as he licks my bottom lip, hinting that he wants in. I oblige, like the good gentlewoman I am, and bro, I’ve never felt so much bliss from tongue-wrestling someone in my life. 

I don’t know how long we’ve been wrapped up in each other on this log, but it has to have been a bit. Now that our feelings are out in the open, it’s like we’re both lingering onto every second that passes, not wanting to risk it coming to an end.

Seb trails his fingertips from the back of my head to the front of my throat, and clamps his hand on with a light squeeze. Luckily, I quietly moan instead of my usual squeaky tic. Still embarrassing, but at least I don’t sound like a frickin’ dog toy. Plus, if his pleased humming is anything to go by, he enjoyed the reaction. Yoba, I don’t want this to end… 

As if the universe is telling me to go fuck myself, Seb groans into my mouth in frustration and pulls away, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulls me into his lap as he answers the call. Rather than waiting patiently, I decide to play his game. I want a turn to fluster him for a change. If that’s even possible. Only one way to find out!

I lean my head into the crook of his neck, and just when he thinks I’m simply getting comfy, I lift my lips to his jawline — I swear, this shit could cut diamonds — and trail soft pecks down to his neck. I feel his hairs raise and he breathes in heavily, promptly clearing his throat to sound more natural in his conversation. 

I smile against his skin before giving it a lil’ bite. The ol’ razzle dazzle. But before I can sooth it with another kiss, he takes a tuft of my hair and tugs on it. I guess it’s time to stop. That was nice while it lasted.

I rest onto his shoulder and fiddle with the same loose thread I’d played around with while on his couch earlier. This time, I tear it free, and zone out on the sky while twirling it around between my fingers. Following what seems like an eternity, but was likely closer to a few minutes, Seb hangs up, and rests his head onto mine. 

He whines. “Sam and Abby are pissed that I ditched them.”

“You didn’t tell them you weren’t going tonight?” 

He shakes his head, “I was just… really excited to spend some time with you.” We both chuckle. “Fuck, that was cheesy, wasn’t it?”

“Way too cheesy.”

“Fuck you.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing!” I defend.

He gives me a suspicious look. I return it. He rolls his eyes and delivers a big smooch to my forehead. I go back to work on his neck while he has it in the open again, attacking it with more kisses. 

“Having fun?”

“So much,” I admit, smiling against his goosebumps. “I can stop if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, actually,” he challenges, pulling my face up to his and giving me a short but passionate snog. “My turn,” he mumbles as he kisses his way down to my neck.

I roll my head to give him a bit more room, subconsciously rubbing my legs together. I don’t notice this until he does, his hand gripping my thigh; and predictably, he has something to say about it.

“You like that?” Seb seductively murmurs against my skin. He swiftly figures out the spot I respond to most and sucks there, hard — that’s gonna leave a mark, but I couldn’t care less right now.

I nod and hum a quiet “mhm” at his comment, not trusting myself to be able to form words while he does this to me.

“Seems unlike you to not even try denying it.”

“Don’t wanna,” I blissfully sigh, “Feels nice.”

He laughs while leaving another love bite, and because I’m extremely A Bottom, I moan at merely the feeling of his voice reverberating through my body.  I didn’t think I could ever be this ravenous, but I am, so I change my position from being politely seated in his lap to a full straddle.

As my crotch makes contact with his hips, he audibly swallows. I squeak when I notice the hard-on beneath me, ‘cause holy shit that thing might be huge. I wonder if he can feel my wetness through our jeans…? I don’t think I’ve ever been that soaked before, but there’s a first for everything. 

Cupping his cheeks, I hone in on his mouth, ever so slightly gyrating my lower body in his lap. I’m not wonderful on top, which he may unfortunately discover soon enough, but I can at least act as a good tease. I open my eyes and inhale in shock as I feel him slide his hands from my lower back to my ass. He plants his palms against it, hiding them in my back pockets and holding me in place.

Seb pulls away from our kiss. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I’ve never seen his eyes look this dark. He’s clearly enjoying this just as much as I am, which on its own is exhilarating.

I grin and coyly ask, “What do you mean?” as I move some hair out of his face.

He narrows his eyes at me, starts going to town on my neck again, and harshly grabs two large fistfulls of my butt from within my pockets. He lifts me up slightly, adding a little more force to his squeeze, biting the skin where my collarbone meets my shoulder hard enough that he might’ve drawn blood. Fine by me, I think to myself, sighing in pleasure.

Seb weakens his grip when he’s satisfied, gravity forcing my body back down to its original position. In unison, we make a small noise in response to the feeling of our clothed cores crashing together.

“Holy shit, (y/n),” he rests his forehead against mine, his chuckles dusting hot breaths onto my face. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“In, like, a good way?” 

“The fuck do you think?”

I chuckle menacingly, giving him a soft peck on the top of his nose. A dreamy – albeit mischievous – smile forms across his face.

“What?”

He goes in for more kisses, and I happily accept. “You’re adorable,” he murmurs against my lips. “Makes me feel guilty about all the thoughts I’m having right now.” 

“Not my problem,” I tease.

“It’s about to be,” he threatens. 

“What do you mean by that?”

Seb stands, lifting me with him, and gently plants my feet back on the ground.

“Time to go!”

…

What?

“What?”

“You said something about us moving too quickly this afternoon,” he smirks.

Oh, you bitch!

“Well, yeah, but—”

“But nothing.” he shoots finger guns in my direction. 

“Ugh.”

He starts walking back to where we emerged from, and I follow. “Do me a favor, darling?”

I’ve never been one to find that term of endearment very… endearing. But oh my GODDD when he says it, it’s a whole new story. 

“W-what’s up?” I fucking stutter.

“Think of me while you take care of yourself tonight, yeah?” He smiles wide . Little bastard.

“Sebastian.”

“Yes?” 

“Fuck yourself.”

“Gladly,” he looks back at me and waggles his brows. Grabbing my hand and directing his attention to his pocket with the other, he continues, “Speaking of which, I’ll delete that picture of you now, before I forget to.”

I think for a moment. It is risky to tell him not to, but… the fact that he’s openly implied that he’s going to use it to jerk off makes my heart race.

“Nah, keep it.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Really?” 

“Mhm,” I hum. 

“Is there a catch to it?” 

“No, I just…” I trail off, realizing I was about to say something scandalous and feeling my body physically stop me from doing it. Why am I so bad at this shit?

“Just what?” Seb prods.

I take a deep breath. “I, uh… it’s really hot to like…” I stumble over my mumbled words a little more, of course. “Imagining you getting off while looking at me or thinking of me or whatever is really sexy,” I blurt out, chest puffed like I just earned a medal or some shit.

He laughs , hard. Oh no. This is painful.

“Dude I’m bad at this dirty talking shit or whatever, leave me alone!” I defend myself as we approach his motorcycle.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“That laugh said it all.”

“I was laughing because I was surprised . Didn’t expect such a bold statement out of you,” he says, settling his helmet on my head and tugging me onto the bike behind him.

“‘Didn’t expect such a bold statement out of you’ shut the fuck up.”

#sebastian x reader #sebastian #sdv sebastian #sdv #sdv rasmodius #sve magnus #magnus rasmodius x reader #stardew valley rasmodius #sdv sebastian x reader #stardew sebastian #sebastian stardew #sebastian headcanons #stardew valley #stardew #sve #sebsatian sdv #sdv wizard #stardew wizard #magnus rasmodius #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley sebastian x reader #wizard x reader

[snarky-synesthete]

"Love is an Action Verb" Chapter 7 Teaser

Crowley closed his eyes, traffic be damned. He had the Son of God in his fucking car. If he’d been worried about the Apocalypse before, it was nothing to what he knew was going to happen now. Even if Yeshua the Anointed One was currently besties with The Beast, Destroyer of Worlds, it didn’t matter. There wasn’t any hope for humanity at this point. What was he doing, coming back here, bringing these kids? He felt as hopeless as he’d felt during the Flood, hiding in the belly of the Ark with a handful of rescued children, miracle-ing food and clean water for forty days and forty nights, convincing his corporeal body that it was fecund and female enough to produce milk for the twin infants he had grabbed, and wondering for the hundredth time why God was so intent on destroying Creation so creatively.

He let his head fall to the steering wheel. The Bentley carried on driving. (She knew where she was going, after all.) With the windows up, the boys’ fidgeting and shifting and reaching was very loud and irritating. Crowley felt the car slow as it pulled up to the curb. The steering wheel turned his head gently. 

“Well,” Lock piped up, “If you’re gonna just be a bitch about it, then we’ll fix whatever is wrong by ourselves.”

Crowley thought of smiting the little shit with lightning, just for old time’s sake. (“Smitten, I think,” he remembered Aziraphale’s voice softening, inexpressibly fond, “You’re being silly!” Crowley pushed the memory away.) Crowley slowly raised his head off the wheel. Instead of maiming the boy, however, Crowley actually half-smiled: a tired, broken thing.

Lock was wearing a pair of Crowley’s glasses, smirking at him from the passenger seat. The glove compartment was open, filled with dozens of Crowley’s extras.

“Warlock, now…” Crowley started, rolling his ‘r’ a bit, reverting by habit to the scolding tone he had used during his Nanny days.

“It’s Lock, actually though, mate,” Greaz said from the back.

Crowley turned around. Lock had handed back dark glasses to each of the other boys in the car while the demon was having his crisis. Greaz and Adam were trying not to grin.

Crowley schooled his face back into something more menacing. “Those are my glasses,” he hissed.

“You sounded a lot like my old Nanny for a second there,” Lock said, cocking his head. “Maybe she could tell us what your problem is…?”

“Can we just go talk to this angel, do you think?” Crowley asked sarcastically. “Since we’ve driven all this way?”

“Do you reckon we can keep the shades, then, Mr. Crowley?” Greaz asked, hopeful.

Crowley got out and slammed his door. The boys heard him muttering a string of words in a language they didn’t know. They did know, however, with the canniness of teenage boys, that they were all quite bad words indeed.

You can read chapters 1-6 here! Chapter 7 will be up tomorrow. ^_^

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #crowley #warlock dowling #adam young #greasy johnson #my fic #fic teaser #nanny ashtoreth #the bookshop #the bentley #good omens 2 #go2 #fix it #good omens fix it

[jazwritesalot]

Mocha Choco Latte - Chapter 4: Caramel Latte

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou/Bakugou Katsuki, KiriBaku Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia Rating: Teen & Up Audiences Current Word Count: 21,000 Tags: Aged-Up Characters, AU- College/University, AU- No Quirks, AU- Coffee Shops & Cafes, Barista Bakugou, Actor Kirishima, slow burn, background IzuOcha, mentions of Bakusquad, rated for language, Bakugou Katsuki swears a lot, Bakugou Katsuki is bad at feelings, drinking, house parties

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter summary: In which Katsuki finally takes the plunge

Katsuki was losing hope and losing it fast. It had been a little over a month since the Tape Deck debacle, and he had yet to see Kirishima come through the doors of Sugar Rush. He finally swallowed his pride and had unblocked Kirishima’s number from his phone, but he had yet to actually send him a message. Every time he drafted one, he found himself hastily deleting it as the image of his disappointed face flashed across his mind. Nothing he could say over text seemed like it would be appropriate enough to express how much he had royally fucked up. Sending him a message also slipped to the back of his mind as work became more chaotic since Deku was off work, which left him working with Dunce Face, as much as he loathed it. The other man was a disaster in the kitchen, so Sato had reassigned their positions—Katsuki being back in the kitchen gave him a small reprieve from the other’s idiocy. Though he did feel a pang of sympathy for Kaminari when Jirou finally snapped at him for his outrageous flirting, which left the other man sulking for weeks. 

Deku had been back at work for about a week now, with Kaminari suspiciously absent more and more—which was really starting to piss Katsuki off since he was having to pick up some of the slack—and Katsuki forgot how much he hated working the front counter. At least in the kitchen he was able to ignore the stupidity of people. He was silently fuming at the small, half-caff, soy latte that the customer stated that it needed to specifically be heated to 49 degrees. He quickly shot a glare over the counter at the obnoxiously tall, blond man who looked like he walked off the closest runaway in a designer denim suit—pompous asshole—when the bell chimed for the next customer coming in. 

“Small latte for Hakamada,” he grit out as he forcefully placed the drink on the counter and turned to the register. He nearly tripped over his feet, however, when he came face to face with none other than Kirishima standing on the other side of the counter, a bashful smile on his face. 

“Y-you!” he stuttered out while mentally kicking himself. There was so much he wanted to say to the other man, yet the only thing he could do was make a fool of himself. 

“Heh, yeah it’s me,” he chuckled while scratching at the stubble on his chin. “Sorry man, it’s been super busy these last couple of weeks. I meant to stop by, but time got away from me.” 

“Tch, it’s whatever, Shitty Hair. What can I get for you today?” he asked, adamantly ignoring the blush he could feel heating up his cheeks. He was Bakugou Katsuki and damn it, no silly crush was going to get the best of him. 

“Could I get a large caramel latte and a couple of the red bean mochi please? For here,” he said, gesturing to his backpack. Ah, must be another study night, then. Katsuki could feel eyes burning a hole in the back of his head as Kirishima paid and he got him the pastries. As soon as Kirishima walked off to find a seat, Katsuki whipped around, glaring at Izuku, who had a sly smirk on his face. 

“What do you want, you damn nerd?” he griped, grabbing the milk. 

“Kacchan, you’re hopeless,” he chuckled, and Katsuki could feel the vein in his temple throbbing already as he prepped the espresso machine and started steaming the milk. “You keep beating around the bush with him, which has been leading you to missing the mark each time.”

“How is writing my phone number on his cup ‘beating around the bush’?” 

“You could have just given it to him like a normal person, but instead you had to be extra. And look where that got you,” he said with a pointed look. “You just need to be straightforward with him—go ask him out to dinner. Can’t be more direct than that.”

“And why should I listen to your advice, huh? It took you months to work up the courage to ask Round Cheeks out. So what makes you suddenly be the expert on love?” he asked while aggressively piling on the whipped cream and caramel sauce. 

“Just the fact that he’s totally checking you out right now while your back is turned to him.” 

“Really?” he asked eagerly, and Katsuki could feel his cheeks flaming again as the smirk returned to Deku’s face. Way to keep it cool, Katsuki. 

“Would I lie to you, Kacchan?” The arched eyebrow and otherwise unimpressed look on Deku’s face made Katsuki visibly deflate. 

“No. You really wouldn’t,” he sighed. “But what would I even do? Just walk up and be like ‘hey Shitty Hair, let’s have dinner?’”

“Well, maybe without the Shitty Hair part. I still think there’s only so long he will allow you to call him that before he gets annoyed with you.”

“It just adds to my charm,” Katsuki grinned.     

“It’s a charm that I will never understand,” Izuku chuckled with a roll of his eyes. “But seriously Kacchan, go for it. You’ve been working your ass off the past month and a half. You deserve a break. That, and you deserve some happiness.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me, Nerd,” Katuski grumbled. “I guess I’ll go on break a little early then.”

“Oh no you won’t. You’re leaving now. I got you covered for the rest of the night. It’s the least I could do since you’ve been footing the bills while I was out.” He brandished a spatula like a weapon, daring Katsuki to challenge him. And while normally he would take the bait, this time he realized there was something, rather someone, more important waiting on him. 

“I owe you one, Deku.” He quickly poured himself a caramel latte to match and grabbed the mochi out of the pastry case while Izuku came out of the kitchen and took over his place at the register. He gathered the drinks and food, and with a deep breath to soothe his frayed nerves, not that he would admit to them being frayed, that is, he walked over to where Kirishima was sitting with a false sense of confidence, sliding into the seat across from him and placing the two drinks and the plate of food on the table with a smirk. 

“Uh dude? I think you made a mistake? I only ordered one drink?” Kirishima questioned, blinking back the surprise of seeing Katsuki sitting across from him. He did, however, pluck a mochi off the plate and chomped on it. 

"I don’t do things I don’t wanna do, Shitty Hair. One’s for you and the other’s for me. Since my shift ended a few minutes ago, I figured why the hell not? Gotta see what makes you different from the other extras that frequent here. Gotta see why I’m so drawn to you.” The sly smile on his face quickly fell as Kirishima choked on the mochi he was eating. “Shit are you okay?” he asked, jumping up while Kirishima pounded on his chest before taking a large gulp of his latte. He ignored Deku’s look of shock from the counter in favor of making sure the man in front of him was alright. 

“You can’t do that to me,” he whined as the coughing subsided. Bakugou cautiously sat back down and sipped at his own latte, feeling self conscious for nearly sending the other man to an early grave. “Also, I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended,” he chuckled, shyly pushing a lock of hair behind his ear as he finally made eye contact with Katsuki. 

“I’m hoping you go for being flattered,” Katsuki mumbled into his drink. At Kirishima’s quirked eyebrow, he cleared his throat. “I’ve been going about this the wrong way. I���m going to be blunt—I like you Shi- er, Kirishima. I want to get to know you better. So, I’d like to take you on a date,” he finished, cheeks flushed as he avoided the incredulous, wide eyes staring back at him. 

“I think that’s the first time you’ve used my name,” Kirishima said in a breathless whisper, and Katsuki had to fight back the urge to bare his teeth at him. As quickly as the shocked expression crossed Kirishima’s face, it was replaced with one of the blinding smiles that Katsuki had grown quite fond of. “I would really like that, man!”

“Bakugou.” At Kirishima’s confused glance, Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me ‘man.’ You can call me Bakugou.”

“Oh? So you’re the only one who can get away with ‘endearing’ nicknames around here?” Kirishima snarked back and Katsuki felt his jaw drop. Cheeky bastard. His bravado disappeared as quickly as it came, his cheeks reddening as he gave Katsuki a soft smile. “All joking aside, I really would like that, Bakugou. What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Uh…” Well shit—he actually hadn’t thought that far ahead. He was lucky that the guy was even giving him a chance after all the bullshit he pulled the last few months. “How about a nice dinner?” he suggested, hating how uncertain his voice sounded. 

“Oh, dinner sounds fantastic! Got anywhere special you like to go?” If Kirishima had a tail, Katuski was certain that it would be wagging right now. It was so cute to see how excited he was over the prospect of a single dinner with him. 

“How about you come to my place and I can cook for you? I bet it will be better than any restaurant you’ve ever been to,” he grinned. This was perfect—he could talk with Kirishima without having to worry about Deku’s prying ears. Not to mention his bank account was currently lacking from the dent of the bills from the past month. It was a win-win. 

“Already trying to get me to come home with you? How scandalous,” Kirishima smirked and it was Katsuki’s turn to choke on his drink. Damn that shitty-haired bastard. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. That sounds like an amazing first date.” The way he said it made it seem like he was anticipating more dates, which made Katsuki’s heart soar. 

“Whatcha say? Wanna ditch this place and start our date at my apartment?” 

“Sounds much better than sitting here and failing to study,” he laughed, zipping his backpack shut. 

“Oh wait, before I forget,” Katuski started, fishing his wallet out from his pocket, “here you go.” He passed some bills over to Kirishima, who cocked his head to the side in confusion. “The drink and mochi are on me today. Let’s just say we’re starting this date early.”

“Bakugou, I can’t accept this,” Kirishima protested, but Katsuki continued to hold the money out for him, challenging him with a glare.

“If you don’t take it, I’m just going to shove it in your backpack, so might as well make this easier on both of us,” he warned. Kirishima sighed, taking the proffered money, shoving it in his pocket. He quickly scarfed down the other mochi, chasing it with the last of his latte before gathering his stuff and sliding out of the booth. Katsuki was quick to follow, his grip on the to-go cup he used for himself tight at the prospect that this was actually happening. He saw Deku shoot him a quick thumbs up, which he responded to with a roll of the eyes and shooting him the middle finger, and then he was following Kirishima out into the chilly November night. 

“After you,” Kirishima smiled, and Katsuki felt his face flame for what had to be at least the fifth time as Kirishima walked beside him, humming an unfamiliar melody. His hand was clutching the strap of his backpack and Katsuki desperately wanted it to be clutching his own hand, despite how forward that would be. Kirishima followed him diligently, and whereas the silence would normally be suffering for Katsuki, there was no awkwardness to be seen. It was as if they were meant to be together in any sort of capacity, previous embarrassments aside. In no time, they were stepping through the threshold of his and Deku’s apartment, changing out their shoes for house slippers and Katsuki’s heart was on overdrive. 

“You okay, man? Your face is about as red as my hair,” Kirishima noted as they moved further into the apartment, depositing his backpack on the ground before sliding into a seat at the kitchen table. Katsuki, on the other hand, was standing in the middle of the kitchen trying to not have a heart attack. 

“I’m fine. I’m just nervous,” he gritted out finally, fighting back the urge to kick the redhead out and go hide himself away in his room for the rest of eternity. Instead, he put forward his energy toward making the two of them a simple fried rice for dinner. The silence stretched between them once again before there was a scraping of a chair against the tiled floor, Kirishima appearing to Katsuki’s right. “What are you doing, Shitty Hair?”

“Ouch, back to Shitty Hair, huh?” Kirishima chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck before washing his hands at the kitchen sink. “Believe it or not, I’m also nervous, man. You’re like, super hot to the point that it’s unfair. And it’s been a while since I’ve put myself out there relationship-wise. So I get it,” he explained, drying his hands off on a towel. “But I think, if we’re going to make this work between us, that we need to be equals. So, let me help you make dinner for our first date?” he asked and Katsuki could only gape at him as he tried to process what was just said. 

“Fine, you sap,” Katsuki snorted. “You can help by chopping up the veggies.” He knew his face was still scarlet, but at this point, he didn’t care. It was like Kirishima had been able to pick up on all of his insecurities and turn them on their head without even trying while simultaneously baring his own for Katsuki to see. And he found that way more endearing than he probably should. They worked together seamlessly, which was a relief compared to the disaster that the kitchen could be with Deku in it with him. Despite being a decent cook, the two of them could not sync up to save their lives, causing one too many blow ups in the kitchen that resulted in them having take out for dinner. 

“Wow Bakugou! This looks fantastic!” Kirishima exclaimed as they sat down to eat. 

“Idiot, you helped too,” Katsuki grumbled, the praise too much to handle at the moment. His mind was still reeling from the earlier confession of him being “too hot” for Kirishima, so any other praise that was piled on was just overkill at this point. 

“Still! You’ve got mad skills in the kitchen. I could most definitely learn a thing or two from you. My roommates can’t cook well to save their lives, and with me gone long hours, I’m eating out way too much and they’re left fending for themselves.”

“Sounds like a them problem, if you ask me. They’re adults—they should be able to feed themselves.” Hearty laughter was the response he got to that. “As for you, I guess I don’t mind showing you some tricks and easy meals to make.”

“You’re the best, Bakugou.” The smile on Kirishima’s face was so sincere that it left Katsuki’s stomach in knots, face flushing for the umpteenth time tonight. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Kirishima,” he smiled back. “Let’s get cleaned up and then I can show you around, I guess, before we decide on what to do with the rest of the night.” There were no arguments from Kirishima, the two of them washing up and leaving the dishes out to dry. “You’ve seen the living room and kitchen already, so I guess that all that’s really left is to show you my room.”

“On the first date? Scandalous,” Kirishima teased, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Oi! Shut up, asshole,” he grumbled, half-tempted to leave Kirishima in the living room and lock himself in the bedroom. He took a steadying breath, instead, and led Kirishima down the hall to his room, silently hoping that he wouldn’t get judged too hard for the All Might movie posters hanging up. 

“An All Might fan, I take it?” Well, there went that hope. 

"What of it?” he asked defensively, ready to throw the redhead out if needed. 

“Nothing’s wrong with it! I love the comics, but I’m more of a Crimson Riot fan myself. Hell, Arakatai Kureno was the reason I got into acting—his portrayal of Crimson Riot was phenomenal! Really inspired me to want to better myself and try something new.”

“Guess it worked out for you, considering you’re now Red Riot.” Katsuki was glad that Kirishima seemed to be just as much of a fanboy as he was, even though he himself was more closeted about it. 

“Heh, I guess it did,” he said bashfully. “What about you? Why All Might?” 

“All Might was a badass hero in the comics and I loved that he didn’t let anyone bring him down, no matter how dire the situation would be. It’s just a shame that Yagi got injured and had to retire early.” Katuski was trying his best not to pout, he really was, but seeing his hero and idol have to go into an early retirement due to a set accident left a sour taste in his mouth. Who knew how many more All Might movies there could have been if that never happened?

“Yeah, it is a shame. From what I’ve heard, Yagi is a delight to work with. But still, gonna have to say that Crimson Riot is a far superior superhero.” Katsuki snarled at the snarky smile across Kirishima’s face, instantly rising to the bait. 

“I’ll prove to you that All Might is better! Come on, jackass, we’ve got some movies to watch.” Kirishima’s boisterous laugh rang throughout the halls as he followed Katsuki to the living room, earning the two of them a bang against the wall from Katsuki’s neighbors. 

“Keep it down!” a crabby voice called through. 

“Sorry!” Kirishima called back while Katsuki rolled his eyes. That old man could bite him for all he cared. He’s spent many a night listening to him yell at his microwave for not heating his taiyaki properly, so the old geezer could deal with Katsuki’s company. They settled on the couch, Katsuki brazenly snuggling into Kirishima’s side, which was met with an arm draped around his shoulders, pulling him close to the redhead. As Katsuki pressed play on the movie, snuggled up to the man he had been crushing on for months, he realized that maybe things were starting to look up for him after all.

#jaz writes #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kiribaku #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #long fic #chapter 4 #mocha choco latte #On the Rocks #also on ao3

[luveline]

in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

-

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #harry potter imagine #fred Weasley imagine #fred Weasley x reader #reader insert #reader has acne #reader is an unreliable narrator #reader x fred Weasley #fred Weasley fanfic #fred Weasley fluff #hurt/comfort #Fred weasley x reader

[atsumuahh]

“ SECRET LOVER ” dreamwastaken

characters !

dreamwastaken, wilbur’s twin!reader, technoblade, philza, tommyinnit, wilbur soot, karl, sapnap, georgenotfound, drista, tubbo.

summary !

when reader chooses the dsmp high everything seems to be great, but things gets complicated when her brand new crush turns out to be her oldest brother’s rival. it gets even more complicated when he asks her out.

warnings !

swear words, usage of dream’s real name

notes !

dream as a football team captain rent free in my head... and i’m also sorry that it took me so long to write… its almost 3k words and not proofread!

taglist !

@wilczachannn

it was easy to assume that you had been in your brothers’ shadows. techno, wilbur and tommy were talented, football players with great, great achievements. the only thing you wanted was a big change in your life, so when you graduated from the middle school and it came up to making a big decision on choosing high school, you chose the dsmp high – school located an hour away from your house.

you remember your first day at school. the day started awfully. tommy woke you up with a loud yell at – as you rightly guessed – wilbur, who stole his phone and texted to his crush. it turned out that you had twenty minutes left to get ready and leave for bus and not be late. well... you were late on the bus, but thankfully your dad promised he’ll drop you off at school.

phil couldn’t be more proud of you. for real, he knew how hard it was for you to choose different school from techno, wilbur and tommy (everyone know he’ll go after his brothers). you were miserable through your whole middle school, because no one ever noticed you as your own person, only as wilbur’s twin sister, techno’s younger sibling or the only sister of tommy. it cause you to slowly losing yourself and becoming a female version of your brothers. so when you spoke to him about the idea of the dsmp high, he couldn’t get happier.

fortunately, dad dropped you off fifteen minutes before your first period started. wandering around the new school, looking for people you had classes with. you looked at your phone and accidentally bumped into a tall, dirty blonde guy with painted nails and purple sweater.

“oh no- i’m so sorry!” he spoke kind of afraid he might hurt you. “you alright?” a worried ask left his mouth as he put a hand on your shoulder.

it turned out that his name is karl and you took same classes as him. well in fact the boy seemed to be pretty nice, chill and funny. you two were on your way to the biology class and jokes were in the air. you felt so delightful that you messaged wilbur and techno a small text saying you just made your first friend. as no one responded you hid your phone.

“don’t worry, bestie.” he beamed at you. “i’ll meet you with my other friends, if that’s okay. they’ll love you and you won’t have to worry about making ones!” karl whispered into your ear and you couldn’t hide a soft smile that formed on your face.

as he said, he did. it was your lunch pause so he led you to the cafeteria. the idea of sitting at the table with people you didn’t know was.. terrifying but at the same time, so exiting. you felt like your heart skipped a beat when a guy called dream showed up with his best friends george and sapnp.

he was so handsome that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. looking at him was just so pleasing that you were kinda mad that he was karl’s friend so you couldn’t really sigh over him. surprisingly, he turned out to be a nice guy as well. you expected dream to be a completely jerk and an arsehole, but well you started to feel like you’d fall for him.

well… you were right. you fell for clay so deeply that just being around him was… stressing you out. he always cared about you, through your whole freshman year he was so cute and it was hard not to fall.

sophomore year started in a very… unexpected way. you hadn’t seen your friends in weeks, because you have lived so far away, but it didn’t make your brand new friends group to fall apart. you wouldn’t be so surprised if they organized a meet after classes but… well it was a meet, but only with clay. in a shortcut – he took you on a date.

“i missed you so much, y/n/n” he smiled as he shyly took your hand and intertwined your fingers with his. a small, timid smile formed on your blushed face. “fuck… i like you, i have a huge ass crush on you, okay? i-i just don’t wanna mess up our friendship… so please tell me if you don’t feel same” clay spoke with shaking voice, not giving you a sight.

maybe it was the adrenaline that boosted you up, or your inner self just wanted to do it, but as his confession ended, your lips gentlt pressed his. clay was… well shocked is a good word, clay was shocked, but he pulled you in even closer and that’s how you ended up making out in the park.

you were thrilled to the gills and you almost told your brothers about clay. almost, because you heard techno’s talking about a match against the dsmp high. well it wouldn’t be such a big thing if you hadn’t heard dream, and well oh well. words weren’t too nice.

“hi… are you free?” you said softly, sitting on your bed. you were frightened – what if they don’t like each other? what if… wilbur and tommy also don’t like him? “you know techno, right? technoblade minecraft?” a quiet ask left your mouth as you sat under the tree in your yard.

“yes, unfortunately.” his response made you thought that you had annoyed him. “wait, why you’re asking? did he hurt you or something?” dream didn’t let you answer as he added i’m gon’ kill him under his breathe.

“noo, don’t worry” you clutched your head and sighed. “he’s… my brother, older brother, actually”. silence between you two were clearly killing you, but you couldn’t be one to break it. he had to say something.

“oh my fuck” you heard his shocked voice and chuckled in response. “it doesn’t matter. you’re the one i fell in love with, not he. i know you’re worried, but everything will be alright.”.

“i hope so” his laughter calmed you. “i’ll call you later so we can fall asleep on call okay? dinner’s ready”.

”it’s kinda forbidden love, isn’t it?” george laughed as he wrapped his arm around you with a cute smile. brown haired boy was waiting along with you at your whole friends’ group. “y’know… techno is your brother and also a rival of your boyfriend… it’s exciting”.

you almost gasped at his words. it felt so silly and people would probably find it meaningless, but you couldn’t hide a smile that appeared on your face. he didn’t say techno’s sister like everyone from the middle school would say, george said that he’s your brother.

“as long as i love her, nothing else really matters to me” clay’s voice was so sweet that you almost melted under it. he was right, there’s no reason to overthink – you love him and it’s the only thing that matters.

“yeah, you should definitely tell him that at the match on saturday.” oh my fucking god, a match. the elimination match between the dsmp high and the lmanburg high. you were completely between a rock and a hard place.

“fuck, i forgot about it.” wrapping his arms around your body, dream felt how stressed you began to get. he also felt when your body unwittingly started to shake. “he’ll hate me, so will wilbur and tommy.”

“aren’t they already hating you? like- you barely talk to them at home, so… what’s the problem?” sapnap asked shrugging. well, he was right – techno lost his interest in talking to you and unfortunately wilbur and tommy took their cue from him, and the only person you had talked to was your dad.

“you’re coming to our match, right?” karl asked with a nervous smile forming on his face. it was his first match ever on the team – you couldn’t not be there. “it doesn’t who will you cheer for, just be there, okay?”

“karl, of course i will be there” you smiled at him, trying to hide your increasing stress that almost made you pass out. “please win this, okay? it’d be too hard to look at your miserable faces.”

tommy had always been your favorite of them all. as a child he wouldn’t let you go and sometimes it was obviously burdensome, but you loved it. you loved how he cared and now you missed it. he wanted, but he couldn’t talk to you, techno and wilbur would be pissed if he did.

he wondered about telling you how well he made friends in high school along with tubbo. about all of the funny jokes he made. he just wanted to be a teenager that shares cool memories with his older sister, but for now his brothers were too proud to apologize.

“wil, are you sure we should do that?” he asked, uneasiness appearing on his pale face. he genuinely missed his big sister that always helped him with his homework, with choosing cool outfits to impress girls, helped him, when he argued with tubbo. “she looks so miserable. even dad is worried!”

“we have nothing to do with her miserableness. she left us first. now, she can go and fuck herself” wilbur had never acted lke that before, so surprised tommy just frowned at him and shook his head in hopelessness. something was off and he would like to know what. to repair it.

his stomach rambled and it was time for a snack. tommy was about to came in, but he heard a bit of a conversation between philza and his only daughter.

“yeah, they do kinda hate me” she shrugged, not letting her tears fall. “uhm… clay proposed that i could stay at his. you know, dad. until… they start talking to me again.” long sigh left her mouth as she clutched her head in hands, right before he noticed tears. tommy couldn’t do more, so he got back to his room not letting anyone in later that evening.

it’d be a lie if someone said that tommy wasn’t stressed out. his first game was in a few minutes and his sister was nowhere to be found. “she has better things to do, i disappointed her - i shouldn’t be so shocked.”

when he saw her, he felt relieved. she was there to support him in his first game in high school ever, but as he watched her, slowly drifting away, looking for someone different in the crowd of people, he was hurt.

“i can’t believe you really choose to avoid the affection from dream for today, because your brothers are here. you should fuck them three” sapnap laughed, looking over your shoulder at tommy. “two. he looks hurt as well as you.” you know he was, but he didn’t do anything because the pressure techno and wilbur put on him, was killing him inside.

“y/n you came!” karl cried out, running towards you and sapnap. he hugged you tight and smiled softly, giggling noiselessly. “did y/n’s brothers saw it? i was literally her ride.”

“excuse me, you did that on purpose?” george laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. you joined him, but you stopped when you saw tommy’s upset, frightened face. it wasn’t only karl’s first game – it was tommy’s as well.

“i gotta talk to him” you sighed exhausted of the whole drama around you and your brothers. or just around you, wilbur and techno. your little brother had nothing to do with it. “tommy, hi” you started a bit nervous, feeling the tension betweet you two. and firstly, you thought he will just go away, but you gasped as he hugged you tight.

“i missed you so much” he whispered so anyone could hear but you. soft smile showed up on his face, making it way more brighter. “thanks for coming here, i know it’s rought between you and wil. he’s kinda mad but everything will be fine, i know that.” you wrapped arms around his torso and smiled widely.

“you’ve got this, okay tommy?” you brushed his hair. in response you got a growl and loud laugh after. “if you win or if you lose, it doesn’t matter, because i will still love you, but i’ve gotta go back to my friends.” you beamed and left tommy as soon as you saw wilbur storming towards you.

me: can’t wait to see you on the field :)

you felt like melting, when dream looked at you with his happy, excited face. you were so proud of him – he was the captain of the school football team and it was known that he has a sport scholarship. despite your brothers’ presence, you planned to show clay some support and you painted a medium #21 on your black, denim jacket.

clay: can’t wait to see you on my bed, right next to the trophy i’ll get as a captain.

he hadn’t lie. you sat on his messy bed, in his messy bedroom, talking to his younger sister drista. she was adorably bewitching. she was a bit younger than tommy, but thankfully she wasn’t as loud as him. you laughed after hearing her awful joke.

“so… you’re living here by now?” she asked curiously, frowning. her eyes scanning your, now, blushed face, waiting on the answer. “please, i cannot stand his my-girlfriend-lives-so-far-and-i-can’t-sneak-into-her-room-and-kiss.” she rolled her eyes, but smile widely.

“oh, yeah.” you blushed even harder as she laughed at your already blushed face. “i’m just worried if he’s okay with us hiding, you know? i mean– he could be with someone else, someone… someone better.”

drista didn’t know what to say and you knew she didn’t have to. you were scared – because of your situation that had place in middle school – he will just leave your for someone better, someone prettier, smarter, cuter.

unfortunately for you, clay had heard your every single word. he coughed, letting drista know that she should go. girl smiled at you before leaving you two alone. him, standing in front of you with only his sweatpants on. “y/n” he started as he got closer.

“i- i- can not tell i know how you feel or how you should feel. and-and i genuinely do not care about anyone else but you. i love you, okay dumbass?” he sat as close as possible and beamed softly.

“you won’t replace me?” the whole thing between you and clay was terrifying you so much. is he lying about his feelings? is he really in love with you? or maybe you’re just a bet? you almost shook your head as the thoughts began to overwhelm you.

he wouldn’t do that. and if he would, some of his friends (yours as well) would kill him. you couldn’t be more happier at the moment. your boyfriend had just told you that he loves you for the very first time, you made amazing friends that would kill for you and vice versa, but there was one thing you had to fix. the relationship with techno and wilbur.

“i could never replace you, love”.

“you sure you wanna do it?” clay asked, gently rubbing your thigh with his thumb, sitting in the front seat of his car. you were about to tell your whole family that clay dream is your boyfriend. the guy your older brother claimed to hate. lots of fun, right?

you nodded unsure, getting out of the car. it was your first time seeing your brothers in over a month and – boy, oh boy – you were terrified. did they miss you? did they even notice you were gone? you wished they did. you weren’t even able to ring the doorbell, because tommy opened the door with a huge grin.

“i’ve been waiting for you.” he confessed, closing you in a tight hug. he let you off as soon as he noticed smiled dream standing right behind you. “and who are you, mister?” suspicious question left tommy’s mouth.

“i’m y/n’s boyfriend, clay” dream beamed at tommy as he let you in. shock finding their way onto his face was… quite hilarious. he mumbled something under his breathe, but you couldn’t catch it.

as soon as you got onto the dining room, you saw wilbur, techno and dad setting the table. tommy coughed, couldn’t hide his happiness. his sister is back and he can’t let her go ever again.

“hi…” you started, your voice getting shaky. “i wanted to explain some things and it’d be a pleasure if you would accept my new boyfriend, especially technoblade.” dream took your sweaty with nervousness hand to calm you. he knew it was tough for you, knowing that him and techno are rivals. “this is clay and i know you know him, and you’re not on the good terms, but please just… finally talk to me, because i miss both of you and i’d love to have either my brothers and boyfriend close as possible.” you finished glancing at techno and wilbur.

“y/n, i’m just sad you didn’t want to go to same school with me. you had never told me why, we were inseparable and everything changed within days.” wilbur was first to answer you. his dejected voice made you crying. you missed him, his voice, his advices, his presence around you. “everytime i woke up, you were already running on the bus and we didn’t have a chance to talk.”

“i- you- you’re right. i should’ve told you why did i choose the dsmp high. i did, because i began to lose myself, everyone saw me only as your sister and i started to think that i do not matter anymore. i had to change it and i had to show everyone that i’m not just yours and techno’s sister, but i’m my own persona.” wil stood up and got closer to you. your tears convinced him that you weren’t lying and he felt bad that he didn’t realize it sooner. “i’m so sorry”.

“no- no, i’m also sorry. i’m the one that should apologizing. you were just choosing your own path and i was mad at you, because of that. ‘m sorry y/n/n.” you smiled through tears and hugged him as tight as you only could.

“there’s no much drama between us” techno chuckled quietly, watching you and wilbur cuddling. “i already knew what’s going on between you two at the match. i just took wil’s side.” he shrugged and you laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “well, it doesn’t mean i like you” he claimed glaring at your boyfriend. “i can tolerate you as long as you’ll treat y/n the best you can, otherwise i’ll kill you”.

“i agree and so does tommy” your twin added, looking dream dead in the eyes.

“maybe we’ll stop the death threats here and start eating?” your dad proposed with a cheerful smile. his kids were finally getting along again, he couldn’t be more proud or happier than at the moment.

“it went so well” you whispered delighted. you were snuggling with dream on your bed, some time after the dinner ended. phil suggested that he could stay for the night, so they can get to know him better.

tommy was thrilled to the bones about the fact that now, he has a new friend, older than him, and also a captain of the football team, so he could teach him how to play better. wil was… well wil. he made sure that dream didn’t have any wrong intentions and techno just couldn’t care less if you were happy with him. he even suggested that they should bury the hatchet and move on.

“i haven’t said that to anyone yet, but i love you” you said, almost skipping a bit when he held your head and gently kissed you.

“well, you already know that i’m head over heels in love with you. and it won’t ever change” he said and kissed you one more time.

#maks’ collection #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dream smp x reader #mcyt fluff #romantic mcyt #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken x reader #dsmp #dsmp x reader #georgenotfound #dnf #dream #dteam fanfic #dream x fem!reader #fem!reader #dream smp #dream mcyt #mcyt x fem!reader #sapnap #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x platonic reader #tommyinnit #sleepy bois family #sleepy bois inc #crimeboys duo #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x platonic reader

[toxic-gorgon]

Yandere Dio Brando x Reader: Useless

Synapsis: You are one of the last hamon users and while the practice itself has died along Lisa Lisa, except for a tiny handful of users. While most are willing to allow their gifts to die out and go about their daily lives, you want to put yours to good use and join the crusaders.

Content Warning: Extremely dark themes, click the read more at your own risk! Non-con, blood, yandere Dio, depression/hopelessness, corruption kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, talks of su*cide, violence, and extremely spicy themes. 18+, minors DNI! By continuing to read, you understand the risk.

When you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, you knew the chances of you dying for Mr. Joestar’s cause was almost inevitable. Your gifts were nothing compared to the powerful and unique stands that you came across during the start of your journey. You were one of the last remaining hamon users, but instead of allowing it to fizzle out like the others who trade their gifts for normal lives, you wanted to help and be useful! Lisa Lisa long passed and you heard stories of how hamon saved the world. Allowing hamon to die was allowing a part of yourself to die. 

Hamon was useless against stands, but worked wonders against humans and vampires. However, you primarily used yours for healing and support! The crusaders could use all the help they could get, so it made sense when the directors approached you for the task. Their lives are in your hands, and if it means to put an end to the vampyric Dio’s reign, then you’ll do your part and make sure these boys stay alive.

That’s what you thought at the beginning, back before your days meshed together and all time seemed to stagnate. 

You weren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in this suffocating manor in Cairo. The dark and coldness inside the manor contrasts the warm and vibrant colors outside your window during the day. You were ever the spunky one when you first arrived, you knew your friends were well on their way and you had no problem voicing that fact loudly in Dio’s presence. He would scoff, flashing you an amused grin, after all you were (as what he puts it) like a fangless, clawless feline. You don’t pose any real threat, but it’s cute to see you try. 

Dio is every bit what the rumors said. His raw charisma and power alone should frighten you, but that’s just one piece of the puzzle that’s Dio Brando. His beauty was truly breathtaking, much more so in person, his shirtless form proudly displayed like a painting hung carefully in the Louvre. His voice charmingly suave, almost a mesmerizing melody that beckons you closer like a siren’s call that you can’t block out. Worst of all was his eyes, that piercing gaze of his that can see right through you, all your worst fears and highest hopes, nothing can be hidden from this man. 

When you first arrived at his mansion, you were awestruck. Cat-got-your-tongue indeed as you drank in the imposing monster of a man, your enemy. What could he possibly want from you? His smirk makes your chest clench as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You wanted to run, and you would’ve if it wasn’t for you being so goddamned weak. You were completely at his fucking mercy, all he had to do was give the word and you would meet your end. You expected to die right then and there, surely a man like Dio would take out his enemy while he had the chance, just so later down the line it won’t bite him in the ass. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or amusement, but your death never came. Instead, the cocky asshole smriks and gives you his blessing to tour his home. Hell, he even allowed you access to his library, on the grounds that if you did decide to run, you would be all too easy to catch. You were convinced this man had no real plan for you being here, besides making things much harder for the crusaders by stealing away their healer. 

You were determined to keep your head held high and wait for your knights in shining armor. 

But now, you’re just a shallow husk of despair. All the hope and conviction you had died little by little as the days went by, as those dark thoughts that Dio would mock you with began to take root. There’s no point in brainwashing you when your conviction can be shattered so easily. During the day, Vanilla Ice and Pet Shop watch over you. You absolutely loathe Vanilla Ice. His blind devotion towards his master churned your stomach, all the while he’s looking down on you and lack of stand ability. His words stung, but now they mirror static, background noise for your chaotic thoughts. 

Pet Shop was your preferred caretaker. He’s a bird, so he can’t talk like your other wardens. However, you could’ve sworn you saw that bird smirk once or twice, and his steely gaze mirrored his cocky yet powerful master. Perhaps the bird was silently judging you, even mocking you for being more caged than he was. After all, Pet Shop was allowed to move past the mansion’s windows and enjoy the fresh air and sun, even though he stayed within his bounds. A murder hawk has more freedom than you do.

The nights are always the worst. Screams of ecstasy or pain, you weren’t sure which anymore, filled the halls. After a while of being imprisoned, they all sound the same. How long before you’re next? You felt like it was any day now, and eventually your captor will grow bored of your constant banter. Perhaps that would be for the best, you’re dead weight anyway as long as you remain here.

Your friends were on a mission to save Holly, which you admit is more important than rescuing you. You knew the risk after when you joined this crusade, you just didn’t think it would end here in the lion’s den. You contemplated jumping out the window, not caring how painful the initial impact would be. You always decide against it, and instead sit and wait, chalking it up to being a coward as well. Everyday when your saviors hadn’t come, the little bit of hope inside was crushed gradually until barely anything was left besides tears of frustration and a luxurious queen sized bed to help you sleep.

Since you’ve been here, Dio took the liberty of making sure you’re fed three five star meals a day and accompanying you with a wine glass of blood. Such a gentleman, he even made idle chit-chat while you refused to take a bite (no matter how many times he told you it would be a waste poisoning you). Dio boasted about his many achievements, including how he stole Jonathan Jostar’s body, which you weren’t sure if he was just bragging or making sure that even in a casual setting, the threat still lingered. Was this supposed to impress you? Because the only responses you ever gave him were snide remarks and silence. Sometimes he would treat this like a silly game, but on days when he was more temperamental, you wisely chose to nod your head and actually eat what’s in front of you.

He made sure you were treated well, despite your situation. You bathed in a tub fit for a princess with fancy soaps and perfume, and was dressed in the finest of authentic Egyptian gowns that money could buy. All of which were gifts from Dio. He even took the liberty to do away with all your drab belongings and anything that didn’t fit his opulent aesthetic. He even gave you art supplies once. Whenever he gave one of these gifts, he always made sure to attach a rose with it. You always throw them out.

To occupy yourself when your host is gone and taking time for himself, you like to venture to his library and thumb through his vast selection. You’re sure you read over half of his stock by now, but something new always catches your eye to pass the time with. Usually you would saunter off into your room, avoiding the underlings as much as possible, but tonight was one of those nights where Dio met you there. 

“There you are darling, I was worried I missed you.” His smooth voice did little to put you in ease. 

“What do you want?” you sighed, making your way to the bookcase and browsing through different titles. Dio playfully scoffs, as always everything you say is just a game to him, and the disdain in your tone goes unnoticed. You didn’t move an inch when he moved closer to you, towering over your much smaller frame.

“You wound me dear, I only wish to spend time with you.” He leans in close next to your ear, his warm breath tickling your lobe. “Alone.” Now that’s laughable! Dio Brando isn’t a man who did anything out of kindness or ‘quality time’ without something in return. Did he run out of bodies to satisfy his hunger? What could you possibly offer him besides a snack?

“Spend time with you? I’ve seen what you do to the men and women who throw themselves at you for a sliver of attention. Their dead carcass lay about your manor like furniture when you’ve drained them.” You barely whispered. Why were you explaining his misdeeds to him like a child? You weren’t sure if you were trying to reason or reach the last thread of humanity within, but doubt was clearly written on your face. You wanted this to end.

You balled your hands into fists and shook with rage. “Just kill me and get it over with! I’m tired of you and I’m tired of being here!” 

Dio couldn’t help but sneer at your sudden outburst. How can you say these things? He’s given so much to you, and this is how you repay him? Do you not realize what you do to him? How weak he is while in your presence? How absurd. You had to have known, and perhaps you were testing his patience on purpose.

Reaching up and gripping your chin roughly, Dio kept your gaze on him. “I ask very little of you and have given you everything you could ever ask for. Tell me darling, are you truly unhappy?” his lips brush against your own, and his voice dangerously low that it sent shivers down your spine. Your voice was caught in your throat, this tower of a man standing over you so domineering makes you seem insignificant. Like a large cat ready to pounce on his prey. 

Tears run down your cheeks and you had no will to stop them. Why was he doing this to you? As if to answer your question, the blonde captures your lips and wraps his arms around your trembling form. With a jolt of energy you tried to shove him off you in defiance for your space. “Please stop, I don’t want…” you mumble. Growling, Dio pulls away and glares into your glossy puffy eyes, his brows furrowing when you don’t give in so easily.   

“Pet.” he said through gritted teeth, his hand drifting down to your neck and squeezing rough enough to cut off air supply. “You’re being selfish. All I asked from you in return is your loyalty and to surrender yourself to me.” He picks you up by your neck and amusingly smirks when you gasp and attempt to wiggle free, your hands desperate for air. Your nails grazing his skin with little scratches did nothing to phase Dio, instead he chuckles.

“Funny, isn’t it? The man’s body I’ve taken, the only man I would ever call my equal, possesses the same power as you do.” Black dots formed in your vision and your legs grew tired from flailing. He lets you drop from his grip, and while you sit slumped over and choking on air for your burning lungs, Dio looks down with his ruby hues. “Suppose my interest in you is fate, or perhaps you remind me of him.” Bending down to kneel in front of you, Dio pulls you towards his chest and picks you up bridal-style with very little resistance from you. He smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear “However, your strength will never match his.” 

Dio took flawless strides towards the desk on the other side of the room and pinned you down on your stomach against the harsh oak surface. With the wind knocked out of you temporarily, Dio traced his long nails along the soft chiffon fabric of your golden gown before tearing it to shreds down the middle, revealing your back and ass as the now useless fabric pools at your feet. Looking back at your captor’s sadistic smirk, your bloodshot eyes widen with realization. You were observant, he didn’t need to spell out what his intentions were. 

Almost immediately, Dio parts your legs with his knee and runs his fingers along your slit, examining it’s beauty before he decimates it with his cock. Squirming, you tried to push yourself up from the desk. As weak as you were, you had to try! Even though you knew Dio had more than enough strength to overpower you. As if he read your mind, he takes both of your wrists in his strong grip and pins them against your back. 

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want me to break your arms, would you?” You stopped your struggling and stilled. It was best to get it over with and maybe if you comply, he won’t be as harsh with you, right? Just let him do what he’s going to do and don’t make it worse for yourself. “That’s better!” He smiles. “Lay there and trust your Lord Dio. Don’t worry about a single thing.” Don’t worry? How can you not? But, you did as he said and Dio goes back to running his fingers along your pussy, this time his index flicking against your clit. 

Biting your bottom lip, you shut your eyes tight. Be strong….be strong…. You chanted, but the small shocks of having your clip played with after being in turmoil for so long, it was difficult to not give yourself over for anything that can make you feel a moment of blissful ignorance. You were convinced that either Dio was a mindreader, or you were just so painfully obvious, but he stops his ministrations with your heat and leans in closer, he carelessly grinds his clothed hardened cock against you. He was quite proportioned. 

“Let’s enjoy ourselves, hmmm?” You shuddered at his words (and sizable bulge), a small whimper escaping you. Pleased with your sudden turn around, Dio leans back and without missing a beat, undoes his pants, allowing his cock weeping of precum to spring free. You swallow down a moan when his cock rubs against your clit, teasing your lips. Your cunt quickly became sloppy, as you were beginning to come around and throw caution to the wind. Dio must’ve noticed, because chuckles and mutters. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me now.”

With his cock soaked with your juices, he thrusts in and you do as he says, allowing a hoarse moan erupt from your throat that’s muffled by your face against the desk. This wasn’t going to do, not for Dio. While thrusting at a brutal pace, he yanks your hair back and lifts your head so he can listen to your lustful melodies more clearly. While you pant like a bitch in heat whenever he hits that spot to make you see stars, Dio releases your wrists in favor of gripping your hip tightly, leaving bruises. 

Gasping, you didn’t move your wrists for fear of your lord stopping or worse. Pleased by your obedience, Dio’s pace quickens, just for him to slow down to a tortuous pace. Flustered you cry “W-Why? Please….please….m-more!” You try to turn your head, but his strong grip keeps you in place. What a wonderful development! Definitely a change in the right direction from how you rejected him a few moments ago. But, Dio wasn’t quite satisfied yet. He wanted your everything, not only your spur-of-the-moment submission. He’s Dio Brando, Lord Dio to his brood. He doesn’t settle for less than satisfactory.

With a grin, Dio knew just how he would achieve this. “You beg so pretty darling, I see you’re finally coming to understand who owns you. But begging isn’t enough.” When he started moving again, this time his cock kissing your cervix, your mouth hung agape in a silent scream. Your thoughts thoroughly scrambled with nothing but the pleasure that Dio was offering you. Hell, you weren’t even coherent when your position changed to you being on your back with your legs spread wide and exposed, only for Dio. 

He picks up his pace, your cunt constricting around him as he pounds into your sore pussy, his hand now free from your hair pressed down your abdomen. He felt the slight belly bulge from him delving into your sweet cunt, simply delicious. “Darling-” He said too sweetly. “- You’re absolutely stunning so full of my cock, but I have a wonderful idea. I didn’t appreciate your attitude this evening, but I know how we can fix that!” You were too fucked out to comprehend his words, but nodded like the dumb slut you were. His dumb slut. “I’m going to breed this pussy of yours, fill you up with my cum, and you’re going to take everything I give you. Wouldn’t that be great? You grow big and round while your breasts are full with leaking milk.” He pauses as his hips sputter, his cock pulsating with the vision of you growling his children within your womb. 

“Yes..I think motherhood will suit you well. Forever my ___.” 

Whimpering, you nod in agreement. Whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. You were so very close! You mumble a breathy fuck when Dio pushes your legs up to your shoulders, diving in much deeper than before. Chanting strings of curses under his breath, Dio’s hand on your stomach drifts down to vigorously rub your sensitive nub and in almost no time at all you cum around his member, your juices rushing out to soak the desk and his cock. 

“Oh god...oh god...oh god..” you chanted, making Dio’s ego inflate more if that were possible. Smirking, he lets you ride out your orgasm, before picking up the pace yet again, this time losing control of himself for once. Brutally he fucks you, his cockhead slamming against your cervix, as your pulsing walls from your aftershocks urges his throbbing shaft, begging to milk it. After a few final thrusts, Dio stills and his cock paints your womb with his seed. 

He wasn’t done yet. Chuckling at your fucked out expression, it was so much like Dio to push for more. He wanted to mark you, make everyone but mostly yourself to know who you belong to. Your chest will do and his mark will be on full display. Using the nail on his index finger, Dio carves his name into your chest, pebbles of blood dripping down your sweaty and spent body after each scrape was made. When he is done, he admires his work, his name etched into your skin almost makes his cock spring back to life. What was he kidding, he could go a few more rounds anyway. But first, he leans in and laps up the blood, waste not want not right?

“There you are, how stunning. Darling, I wish you could see yourself right now.” Your eyes grew heavy, you were so exhausted and ready for a nap. Dio picks you up and doesn’t bother to cover you with your shredded rags. “No, no, don’t pass out now. We have a long night ahead of us.”

#jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #dio brando #yandere #yandere dio #dio x reader #hamon user reader #y/n #dio x y/n #extra spicy #dark themes #part 3 #stardust crusaders #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader

[rogue-durin-16]

LIFE-SAVING SHARPIE

Summary: Despite being a muggle, Y/n's mother was an expert in divination. She tried to teach Y/n, who saw it as a mere muggle game. But, oh, what a powerful weapon a muggle game can become in the hands of the right witch.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst (w/ a good ending)

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: injuries, death(ish)

A/N: I'm not saying I'm incapable of writing an angsty ending for a Fred Weasley story, but I'd rather not do that, so here comes a stupid story that occurred to me this morning, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/l/n!" I sighed. "Is it true?"

"Your mom is into divination?" George question made me throw my head back in desperation as both twins made their way through the Great Hall to meet me.

I knew that day would be a bumpy one the moment we entered in the Divination classroom. The fact that a muggleborn aced a new subject since class one was strange.

I knew I would have to give some explanation to my friends after. Ron was particularly shocked by the fact that my muggle mother had taught me —against my will, may I say— lots of Divination-related things. I knew Ron, being Ron, would surely tell every soul that would listen about his discovery, but I had hoped for him to wait until the third period at least.

"Secrets spread like wildfire here." I said.

"Are you secretly a soothsayer?"

"Yes, Fred. You see, I have the Sight." I ironically stated, and, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to get closer to the boy I fancied, I added "Want me to read your palm?"

They shared an amused look, fully aware that I was joking. Even in the Wizarding World, divination wasn't something to believe in.

There were supposed to be people able to see the future, such as professor Trelawney, but no student had seen her predict a thing, so she wasn't the best example.

George was the first one to sit down. "Predict my future, oh, you who were gifted with the Sight." I snorted as he laid his palm before my eyes.

I picked his hand on mines, "Hmm..." Fred hovering over my form from behind wasn't ideal for me to concentrate. "Okay so..." I felt one of his hands toying with the clasp of my necklace, brushing my nape. "Will you stop touching my necklace and sit down?" I demanded.

"Yeah Fred, sit down." George reprimanded his brother. "She's trying to see my future." I heard Fred chuntering before he plopped down on my other side, leaning on a tad too close for my liking. "Alright, fortuneteller, is there a love line?"

Of course he would ask about that. "Let's see..." I traced said line, unable to remember to the T what my mom had tried to teach me. "So, the heart line is arched... Which means..."

"That you can't tell a thing?" I slapped Fred's arm.

"Which means he's balanced." I corrected him. "You're able to realize when you need to take care of yourself, and when you should let a someone in." George seemed invested. "You'll have just one serious partner, but they'll be the right one."

"Well, that doesn't sound half bad, huh?" He looked at me with a content smile.

"My turn." Fred spoke, smacking his brother's hand away and replacing it with his left one. "The line of life or whatever." He scooted a bit closer and I felt my heartbeat pick up. "What's my fate?"

"Are you left-handed, Fred?" I questioned with an eyebrow raised, already knowing the answer. "I need your dominant hand." Oh well, that came out wrong.

"Straightforward, are we?" George snorted at his brother's remark as he exchanged hands, turning to straddle the bench to be more comfortable. "Alright, what do you see?" He had leaned on to the point where he only needed to tilt his head down a couple of inches to rest it on my shoulder.

"A hand." I deadpanned, which earned a playful push from him. "Okay, okay— I see..." A puzzled frown took over my gaze. "Wait—" I turned to George. "gimme your hand."

"What?" Fred questioned, shifting his position ever so slightly.

"Uhm..." The frown grew bigger, and I had to remind myself what I was doing was a joke. "You... don't have a lifeline?" I dubiously informed. "I mean— it sorta... Starts? but then it fades away." I widened my eyes and froze, remembering what that meant.

I saw Fred tilting his head slightly. "Is it so bad that you won't tell me what it means?" He asked jokingly in order to lighten my distraught mood.

"It— well, it means that you'll die at a young age." My eyes met his and, despite the amused smile that always danced on his lips, fear slipped out of his orbs now, too.

"Wait what?" George propped himself on his forearms to see his brother's palm. "Can't be. Check mine?"

"I just did, you git." George wasn't even smiling. Maybe he did believe it. "Yours is fine."

The three of us stayed in silence for an instant. Even if none of us believed in divination, the fact that Fred had no lifeline was rather unsettling.

"It's fine." I cleared my throat, turning to my bag and leaving Fred's hand over the table on the process. "Apart from seeing the future, I can fix lifelines." They looked at each other when they saw me grab a sharpie. "Don't move." I demanded, holding down Fred's right hand before tracing a black line where the lifeline was supposed to be. "There. A long, healthy life."

When I looked back at the twins' faces, I saw them ready to laugh. Distress had already left them, and that helped my own evaporate.

"Merlin, Y/n!" Fred dramatically exclaimed. "You've just saved my life!"

"She sure did." George agreed, patting my back.

"Now go and tell Ron to shut up." I didn't want to imagine what would happen if people started to believe I could actually predict their future; the twins were sceptic and even they had somehow fallen for it.

I was so focused on George getting up that I didn't even notice Fred's hand flipping and wrapping around mine.

A soft kiss was placed on my cheek and I felt my face heating up even before meeting Fred's proud grin. "Figured I'd give my savior something in repay." His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips for a second; it's just my imagination, I thought, unaware of Fred's thumb caressing the back of my hand until he removed it in order to stand up.

Four Years Later

FRED'S P. O. V.

One second I was laughing at Percy's joke, and the next one everything was black; not only visually, everything was pitch black in every fucking sense.

I heard nothing, I couldn't touch anything, my voice was gone.

My mind was completely blank, until a thought slipped in my brain: 'you'll die at a young age'.

My head was spiralling now. I was dead. That's what death felt like? Nothing?

Y/n's words kept going on and on, frying my brain. How ironic it was that the voice I would have forever in my mind belonged to the girl I had been in love with since I was fourteen, and the words were what we thought to be her silly prediction.

I had no idea how long it had been, but suddenly I felt it; a tear running down my cheek. A flaming hot tear, burning its way off my face. Then I felt something else, some sort of rope wrapping tight around my right hand and wrist, so tight that it made my pulse speed up.

My pulse.

It dawned on me that my heart was beating fast against my chest. It was beating.

I needed to breathe.

"FRED!" Someone forced my eyes open; It was Percy. I couldn't see him right away because the lights were blinding to my eyes, but I recognised his voice. "FRED SAY SOMETHING!"

"Y/n..." I couldn't hear my own voice, but I felt her name going through my vocal cords.

"HE'S ALIVE!" Ron cried. "you're alive-" my sight was blurry but I could pick out my younger brother's crown in front of me as he sobbed over my chest.

"We gotta get him out of here right now!!" Of course it was Hermione who got everyone moving. As both my brothers managed to pick me up, I felt my eyes closing once more. Not even the fear of not waking up again stopped me from passing out.

READER'S P. O. V.

I had volunteered as Healer to help Madam Pomfrey during the Battle, that's why it was me who received two Weasleys practically dragging a third one into the improvised infirmary.

I recognised him from his jacket. "Fred..." At first I thought it was his corpse, that's how bad he looked.

"Y/N!!" It was only when Fred seemed to tilt his head up due to Ron's cry that I reacted, rushing to help them. "Keep him alive!" I only nodded, taking Ron's place as he took off.

With one of his arms over my shoulders and the other over his brother's, we managed to carry him to one of the stretchers; his painful weak groans went directly into my ear as we moved him, triggering the tears I was holding to fall.

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

FRED'S P. O. V.

"—alive, somehow." Y/n's voice, though it sounded far away, let me know she was close. "No, don't wake him up."

"Listen, you gotta get him to St. Mungo." It seemed George the one talking, but his voice was too shaky to tell. "in an hour this is gonna get really ugly, I want him out."

"George, we're besieged." Her tone was hopeless.

"Look at him, You said it— It's a bloody miracle he's still breathing." my brother's voice shattered; all I wanted was to get up, hug him and say I was okay, but I felt my brain spinning once more. "Bill and I will escort you out of the castle so..."

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

The next time I opened my eyes, terror inundated me; everything was dark again. I gasped for air and propped myself up, instantly regretting it. A stabbing pain attacked every part of my body, triggering a shocked cry out of me.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n whisper-shouted, before placing both her hands over my chest to push me back to the bed again. "Are you mental?" Her fingertips moved out of the way a bandage that covered my eyes. "Oi, listen," when she noticed my shaky hands desperately trying to reach my face, she took them in hers. "You're safe."

I tried to say something —anything—, but my throat was sore, and the only thing that was able to leave it was her name.

"Shhh." She hushed me, letting one of her hands travel to my face. "You have to rest." I would have sworn she was crying, but I couldn't tell. "Everything'll get better." Her thumb stroking my cheek was the most soothing thing I had ever felt, so it wasn't difficult for me to close my eyes, this time willingly, though I was equally scared. "I'll stay by your side." The reassuring squeeze her hand gave me, made me aware that she had noticed my fear.

Before drifting off, I felt Y/n's lips placing a chaste kiss on my forehead, making my heart hammer against my chest.

I was still alive.

A Month Later

READER'S P. O. V.

It was Ron who sent me an owl the moment Fred finally got out of the hospital. He informed me that, instead of going to the Burrow to rest a few days—as planned—, ha had gone straight to the shop.

That's how I found myself the next morning inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which was not-so-surprisingly full of people again.

Due to the huge amount of customers, it was relatively difficult for me to spot the twins.

Apparently, I turned out to be easy to spot.

"Y/n!" I turned in the stairs' direction to be met with a very enthusiastic George who, before I could even greet him, engulfed me in a hug.

"I see you can't catch a break." I observed, pulling away with a big smile on my face. That place really made the trick to bring joy to everyone.

"You can't imagine." He replied, his gaze wandering around before pulling my hand. "Oi, Fred! Look who dropped by!" He shouted over the hubbub, leading me to the till counter, behind which I saw the reason why I had come in the first place.

Just as Fred's eyes noticed me, he attempted to rush out of the till. I left George's side as soon as I realized that he, in fact, couldn't really rush out.

"Merlin's beard!" Despite he had just had to grip the counter in order not to fall, he tried again. "Take it easy, will you?" I scolded him, steadying him by his forearms and helping him step back to rest against the till. "Do you want to go back to the hospital?"

"If you're the one taking care of me, I wouldn't complain." The first time his eyes fell on my lips, I missed it because I was still securing him. The second time it was impossible to miss. "You know? Your sharpie saved my life."

I snorted at his nonsensical words. "You're delirious, Weasley." My hands finally left his forearms, just to be picked up on his. "Still suffering from the concussion?" I joked, trying to deviate my own attention from my fast heartbeat.

Another glance at my lips.

"I should get going." George spoke behind me.

"I was going to visit you tomorrow." Fred stated, his gaze now focused on my eyes.

"Sorry to break it to you, love," I pointed out, motioning at him with our hands still held. "But you can barely walk."

"Yeah, but I needed to see you." He looked somehow sheepish; I doubted I had ever seen him like that before. "I'm gonna be as clear and concise as possible—" He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at me. "I'm pretty much in love with you." I didn't know my eye could go as wide as they went. "Thing's I've known for a good couple of years now." He shrugged. "Telling you scared me, but then this happened." He gestured at himself. "And now not being able to tell you scares me even more." His eyes scanned me before looking around. "This wasn't the ideal place to tell you, but I didn't want to wait any longer."

I gulped, trying to process it as fast as possible.

"For Godric's sake, Y/n," he gently tugged my hand. "Say something, please." Fear started to take over him, even if he tried to keep it at bay. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, we can still be friends, I promise—"

"How do I kiss you without hurting you?" I questioned, already feeling the heat on my cheeks.

I could tell by his face that, out of everything I could have said, he was not expecting the answer I had given him. "Ever the caring one." He let go of my hands to cup my cheeks. "Just kiss me," he sounded so happy, it was contagious. "I'll deal with the pain later."

I listened to him and, holding onto his blazer, stood on my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his— only because I had been wanting to kiss him for too fucking long.

I got lost in the kiss and my brain completely dismissed that an entire wall had collapsed over the boy before me just a month ago; my hands went up to his neck, pulling him closer and, consequently, earning a painful groan from him.

"Shit! sorry." I was quick to let go, suddenly very aware of our surroundings, too.

He just shook his head and pulled my back to him, this time by my hips. "I said I'll deal with it later." He spoke against my lips before going in for a second kiss.

I was more gentle now, careful not to cause him too much pain.

To our dismay, we were interrupted.

"You said love confession!" George snapped us out of it; this time the groan Fred let out was from annoyance. "not snogging session in front of our customers! Get to work!"

He huffed, unwillingly separating from me. "If you stick around until lunch time, we can resume this."

I pretended to think about it. "I guess I can find something to do until then." My smile was as wide as his, and it grew wider when he pulled my into a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. "I love you too, by the way."

His laugh reverberated on his chest. "Good to know."

"Freddie! Now!" This time it was me who groaned at George's demands.

"Help me out, love." Fred requested, pulling away from me so I could help him move behind the till counter. "See you in a couple of hours?" I nodded, pecking his cheeks and walking away from the shop.

It was when I started to walk down the Diagon Alley that it clicked.

His lifeline.

The sharpie.

"OH MY FUCK—"

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred x you #fred x slytherin reader #fred x y/n #fred lives au #fred weasly x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fluff #harry potter #battle of hogwarts

[shotosprincess]

what if... — shoto todoroki

“ what if we kissed then? just to prove that we don’t have feelings for each other. “

summary: ever since you and todoroki started working together as pro heroes, your friends simply wouldn’t let up on teasing you two, suspecting that there was something between you—something that extended past the bounds of business.

notes: fluff ,, todoroki being flustered ( aaaa he’s so cute bye ) the bakusquad teasing and egging ya’ll on ( their dialogue is color coded so it’s easier to read ! ) ,, denki being a little bit of a busybody <3

“ ooooh look who it is! the power coupleeee! “ the sing-song tone of denki’s teasing rung through the hall as he spotted you and todoroki entering the building from a long day of pro hero work.

grey streaks of dust and ash littered your bodies, streaks of sweat and diluted stripes of dried crimson staining multiple sides on both your faces. his hair was tattered and slightly singed from the discord of an especially-messy battle, yours was tangled in a hopeless mess. a heavy sigh leaves you. that would be a pain to brush through later.

your numbed fingers, body exhausted and worn out, run through your hair in a wordless frustration. shoto tenses up noticeably at denki’s playful comment. “ denki. we’re not a couple. “

his lips raise into a cheeky, if not mildly-irritating smirk as he leans further into the velvet couch, draping his arms round the back. “ oh yeah? take your arm off their shoulder then, shoto. “

your partner’s face lights up with a rose so brilliant, it almost even matched with the rubied strands of his hair. his lips tightly purse together, sliding his arm, which was, in fact, casually resting on your shoulder, off with a hurried swoop.

“ shut it, kaminari. “ he huffs in a low, almost even threatening tone as he walks past the energetic blonde at an increased pace. you frown. he seemed so worked up over it, and for what? it’s not as if this was the first time someone had poked at you for being a “ couple “—which you were not, but you were never the one to readily disprove their remarks, though delivered in a joking manner. it’s not as if you felt anything of the sort for him...right?

so then why was it so hard to admit that you weren’t anything more than what you were on the field? it was the truth, after all.

“ jeez, what’s with him? i was just kidding. “ sticking a lollipop into his mouth, he turns to lay down fully on the couch, stretching his back out with such leisure.

your eyes followed him as he disappeared past a corner, shaking your head in confusion. “ no clue. “

it was just one of the countless circumstances in which people had poked at the two of you for your not-so-platonic habits with one another, habits which, admittedly, hinted at something...more than friendship. more than a partnership. this was nothing new.

but of course, you pushed it all away, allowing the rumours and silly hashtags and fanmade edits and youtube compilations to completely ricochet off of you. however, the same couldn’t exactly be said for todoroki. shame.

you didn’t quite know why, but he always got so unexplainably tense about it whenever someone brought the topic up. he’d curl up his fists so aggressively it’d leave crescent marks the next day, rearrange his face into a scowl—it was clear that he hated it, joke or not. honestly, you didn’t have the guts to attempt to make them stop, for you knew that if you had, you just knew that the public would somehow find a way to turn it into “ proof “ that you were dating, all because he got so riled up and flustered. which was silly, really, since it was a perfectly normal human reaction to something like this.

though you can’t help but wonder if, perhaps, he did feel that way about you, and maybe that was the reason he—

no, no, what were you thinking? he couldn’t possibly...right? you were just partners. nothing more, nothing less.

but if he did think of you like that, would you want something more?

“ oh come on, just admit it! if not to the public, then to us at least. aren’t we friends? “

“ yeah, icy hot. i mean, seriously, have more guts— “

“ ...how many fucking times do i have to tell you, bakugou...we’re not a couple. denki, stop playing around. you’re egging him on. “ shoto’s harsh tone cuts sharply through the banter between denki and the overly-intense ashen blonde, bringing it to an abrupt end. it didn’t exactly last very long, though.

“ yeah, yeah. that’s what i said about that dumbass deku, and look where we are now. “ he rasps, a knowing smirk playing on his face as he pulls his now-blushing boyfriend close.

“ not everything is about love, bakugou. “ he smirks.

“ yeah, who knew you’d be the one to turn out to be such a romantic? “ denki laughs, earning a solid punch to his arm.

“ owww! that actually hurt. “ his lips jut out in a pout, rubbing over the blooming patch of light purple.

“ oh, shut up, idiot! “

“ you know what? fine. y/n? “

you pause, perfectly still and unmoving as the coldness of his eyes burned his unknown intent into you.

“ y-yeah? “

he strides over to you, appearing only inches away within the briefest of seconds. one of his hands quickly finds a home against your cheek, tilting it to look up at him. your heart pulsates at a nearly impossible rate.

“ kiss me. “

“ what? “

“ just this once. to prove that we don’t have feelings for each other. “ he says, rolling his eyes at denki and bakugou, who were futilely trying to cover their smirks.

heat rises to your cheeks, cauterizing them with an unfamiliar flame. “ oh! uh! i—sure.“

what other choice did you have? after all, you did want to prove to everyone that there really was nothing between you and shoto. or maybe, just maybe, you were also trying to prove it to yourself?

no, no. that couldn’t be. it couldn’t.

he wastes no time. his skin, cold and smooth, fingers like porcelain streams, grasp your chin with a fast-paced elegance which sends a prominent shudder down your back. his lips hover just above yours, and the tension buzzing between you is ridiculously electric. he’s so close, your heartbeat rings in your ears and his breath shallowly fans upon your face as he peers into your eyes with his own. you allow them to fall closed.

as if on cue, his lips meet yours with a gentle, albeit fairly aggressive peck. but as soon as they do, your chest spurns with the fibres of your heartstrings, embroidering them tightly into the knots of his own tangled past. you know what he said. you know what you said—it was all to prove that you didn’t feel anything for one another.

but then why did it feel so oddly...right?

he pulls away, and your lips suddenly feel empty, deserted. the electric thrum still prickles at your lips, wanting, no—needing, more. you hate how much your body craved him, how desperately you wanted for his arms around you again. there’s too much emotion, an overwhelming influx. it is near impossible to even articulate it, at least not in a way which could ever hope to properly encapsulate the undeniable magic of the moment. you were being so damn melancholic, and that was saying something, even for you.

when his lips leave yours, you cannot help but be frozen in your simple state of bliss, utterly dazed with hazy remnants of how annoyingly addicting it was. your eyes gloss over with a sense of want, sparkling with the same glitters his icy eyes met yours with. his hand remains on your cheek, but his touch softens against yours.

your silent stare prolongs for more than just the fleeting moment, as if you were subconsciously grabbing at it with invisible arms, reaching desperately to bring each other back. that was when it hit you; the blinding realization that you did, in fact, want this. want him. and yet, you couldn’t help but hesitate. what about him? did he want this? no, no, he couldn’t possibly. after all, this whole kiss situation was only because he wanted to prove that explosive idiot wrong, that there was nothing between you two but teamwork and good quirk compatibility.

your heart stings at the minor epiphany, the thoughts piercing at your head in an endless swirl of emotions. second-guessing yourself, wondering why you even cared whether or not he thought of you that way. or at least, how he didn’t think of you that way. the tiniest shine of a tear begins to coat your lashes when—

his lips crash against yours for a second time, his hand now trailing towards your scalp, weaving through the fibres as his lips danced upon yours. your guard, your hesitation fully melting away in his arms.

but alas, you made the mistake of allowing yourself to forget that people were watching too.

“ ha! i knew it! i fucking knew it! “ kaminari’s playful voice rings like the most annoying song ( in this moment, i mean come on, you loved the guy, but right now? not exactly helping your stance of “ we don’t see each other like that “ ) as his head peaks out from the halls.

instantly you break away, pulling from each other as your hand flies to clamp over your mouth, eyes bulging wide at what you had just done. you had just kissed shoto. in front of, well, practically everyone! since when did mina and kirishima even get here?!

“ shit. “ shoto mutters deeply, thrashing his hands into his two-toned hair in frustration.

“ shoto, i—i’m so sorry, i didn’t know they would— “

“ no, no. don’t apologize. it’s my fault. i...i shouldn’t have gone for a second ki— “

“ honestly, i think i would’ve been more mad at you if you haven’t. “

“ WHAT?! “ your little audience shrieked. your palms clasped right over your mouth after the admission, face burning with embarrassment. the words left you before you could even think them through. had you really just said that? in front of everyone? how carefree can you be?

you stare into the ground, focusing on literally anything but him.

“ hey. look at me. “

you refused.

“ y/n. “ his hand goes up to your chin, making you look up at him. the pout on your face is so plainly obvious, it makes his heart twitch in a slight pain. you could almost swear you heard mina squeal faintly at the boldness of his action, considering the predicament you two were currently stuck in.

“ what? “

“ i...i think i would’ve regretted it more if i hadn’t kissed you again. “

“ you—what? “

“ i...i didn’t want to pull away. “

“ holy shit. “

“ shut up bakugou! “

“ i wanted...i wanted it to last a little longer. “

“ jeez, and i thought i was bad at confessing my feelings. pft. this is just embarrassing to watch. “

“ same here. i mean you did ask midoriya out by yelling ‘ i love you, dumbass! ‘ from outside his dorm window. “

“ hey, idiot! we don’t talk about that! “

“ shhhh both of you! shut up! we are witnessing an important romantic moment here! “

“ i...seriously? “

“ seriously. and i—i don’t know what the hell this feeling....is. but i....i just— “

“ it’s okay. “ you shoot him a reassuring smile, the same kind you always did in the midst of battle, that comforting smile that let him know you had his back. you communicated with your eyes, though usually they were bloodshot with adrenaline and smudged with ash, there truly was no need for words. not with him.

“ y/n...i— “

“ awwwww aren’t they the cutest? now kiss again! “

“ mina. “ he shoots her a lightly cold stare.

“oh come on! let us have our fun, yeah, icy hot? “ bakugou slings his arm over kaminari’s shoulder, whose grin matches that of his blonde-haired counterpart.

“ i thought i told you not to call me— “

“ shoto. “

he immediately turns to you, slipping into serenity at the sound of your voice.

“ ah shit, here they go again. we get it, you’re a cute couple! “

“ mina, i told you. we’re not a co- “ his eyes snap to yours, lips parting in a hesitant pause.

“ not a what, icy hot? “ the smirk exuding of utter smugness upon bakugou’s face only spreads all the wider.

he allows his hands to fall, taking yours within his. there is a brief, yet definite moment of silence before he speaks again. “ i mean... “

your gaze is focused on the way his hands fully envelope yours, and the unexplainable, tingly feeling you’re getting from it all. despite that, you could still very well see mina and kaminari excitedly waving and bouncing in all sorts of directions, as if they were...cheering you on? it was almost as if they were more fired up about all this than you were.

keyword; almost.

“ shoto, i— “

and suddenly his composure and poise breaks, and all that’s left is the rare sight of shoto todoroki, stuttered in a blushing, shaky mess. “ i mean, i wouldn’t be opposed to it. not—not like i desperately want to or anything, but at the same time i—i just—fuck, why is this so har— “

you rise onto your tip toes, hands encircling his neck as you kiss him. what unknown spirit possessed you with the guts to make the first move, it was fully unbeknownst to you. but you weren’t complaining, no. not in the slightest.

“ HOLY SHIT?? “

“ my baby’s all grown up now— “

“ dumbass, they’re not your bab— “

“ they’re mine. “

“ i— “

“ that is, if you want to b— “

“ well no shit, dumbass! “ you jump into his arms, squealing as you squeeze him tight.

“ good. because...so do i. “

“ i told you! “

“ shut up idiot! “

“ hey, so now can we start a fan account for you two on instagram? i’m sure it’d totally blow up! “ mina squealed with a wink, holding up her phone, already halfway through the sign up process.

“ mina! “ everyone groaned in a laughter-filled unison.

so that was it, you supposed.

you did have feelings for each other.

#todoroki fluff #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #bnha shoto #shoto x y/n #mha fanfiction #mha writing #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha fluff #bnha fic #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha todoroki #shoto x you #mha x y/n #mha fluff #mha imagines #bnha imagines

[sunookkii]

hii can i get an E2L with jake please <3

YESSS!! Thank you so much for requesting,, I really hope you like it 😋

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.enhypen imagine ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Jake Sim x Reader

Genre : enemies to lovers

Warnings : some swear words here and there.. a little scene where main character almost gets assaulted at night

Word Count : 2.4K

Requested : yess <3

(Warning : It kind of sucks, I’m not really sure if this is e2l PLEASE I TRIED MY BEST ANYWAYS)

❀ You and Jake were enemies since birth, you two supposedly hated each other’s guts since diapers. It didn’t help that your parents were really good childhood friends and would always hang out together forcing you and Jake to try and get along. Though it didn’t work.. Jake would always picked on you, weather it was calling you stupid nicknames, tripping you making you fall and land on your face or bothering you every time he had a chance. You were always his main target. To him your reaction to his mean jokes were always so entertaining. You absolutely hated him, how cocky he was, how annoying he was, how handsome, charming he was, and how he was always better than you at everything. And the list goes on.

“I hate history why do we even need to learn it” you thought to yourself. Tapping your pencil back and forth not paying attention to the lesson that was taught on the board. Out of no where you feel pieces of paper being thrown at you from behind,,,, it was from Jake. You thought that he would stop throwing pieces of paper at you after awhile but oh you were wrong. Jake laughing silently to himself thought he was sooo funny. He kept throwing pieces of paper at you until you finally had enough, you turned your body facing him and started giving him a whole lecture forgetting that there was a lesson being taught right at this very moment.

“JAKE CAN YOU STOP, YOU’RE BEING SO FUCKING ANNOYING AND IMMATURE!”

“JAKE CAN YOU STOP, YOU’RE BEING SO FUCKING ANNOYING AND IMMATURE!”

You yelled at him a bit too loud causing the teacher to hear,,”Ms. l/n and Mr. Sim OFFICE NOW!”

You groaned at your teachers words, this is all Jakes fault, if he hadn’t bothered you, you two wouldn’t have been in trouble. At this point all the teachers knew you weren’t really fond of Jake, because every week you two would always be in detention together after school.

J: “This is your fault” you turn around to look at Jake, furious, body filled with hatred and anger

Y/n: “ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU WERE THE ONE THROWING PAPER AT ME, (you breathe in and out trying to calm yourself down) if you hadn’t thrown those stupid pieces of paper i could’ve been at home right now.”

J: “woah woah calm down..” he said, that didn’t help one bit

You decided to ignore him this once because there really is no winning when arguing with him. You two finally arrive at the principals office waiting for yet again another detention slip.

P: “I heard that there was a bit of a ruckus, during history class? Care to explain why you used such vulgar language during school?”

Y/n: “it wasn’t my fault sir, Jake was bothering me and wouldn’t stop.”

P: “Mr. Sim is that true?”

J: “no sir I was simply minding my own business, until she started yelling at me for no reason.” He lied through his teeth,

Y/n: “SIR HE’S LYING” you pointed at the boy smirking at you knowing what he just did.

P: “well it seems to me that there’s a little bit of a problem and someone is lying. Whoever is telling the truth can be excused from detention”

J and y/n : “sir I’M telling the truth”

P: “Well since no one is stepping up I guess I’ll have to put both of you into detention, here is the detention slip for both of you. Remember after school until 5, if you miss it you’ll get detention for the whole week. Got it?!

Y/n: “*sigh, yes sir”

———

Y/n’s POV :

The bell rung indicating that school was over, well not for me at least. I still have to show up for detention since well you know... I arrived at the detention room that read room 206. Walking towards an empty desk, I sat on it and lied my head down.

J: “so how was your dayy :)” knowing that this was all his fault he had the audacity to ask me how my day was??

Y/n: “shut up.”

J: “ooh someone’s grumpy cuz they got detention” he laughs annoyingly at me.

Y/n: “you’re in detention too idiot.”

J: “at least I’m not alone stupid” he rolls his eyes moving away and pushing back his dark brown fluffy hair,,

Why was that kind of attractive? Wtf why am I thinking like that get out of my head!

———

❀ The bell finally rung and we were dismissed, it felt like ages~

Walking towards the the exit I see myself accidentally walking besides Jake. I quickly realized and distanced myself, the sky outside was pitch black. Forgetting that I’m terrified of the dark I quickly walk home by myself so I don’t have to be outside any longer. As I was walking towards the direction of my house I sense someone following me, my pace got faster as I was scared what could happen this late at night. I ran quicker and quicker then all of a sudden I feel someone grabbing my wrist hugging me pushing me towards the corner of a house. I try and let out a loud scream right before they cover my mouth with their hand. I open my eyes only to see Jake.

J: “boo!”

I push him off, why is he holding me in his arms like that?

Y/n: “wtf Jake! Why are you following me?” I said kind of mad that he scared me thinking I was being followed.

J: “some guy was following you when you left school and I didn’t want anything to happen to you so I kinda followed you home..”

Y/n: “oh well you can go now... I don’t need your help..” feeling a little bit awkward that he kind of cared..

J: “are you stupid or something?” He said angrily “you should take better care of yourself! The man could’ve done something to you if I hadn’t been there!”

I had no words to say, how could someone I hate so much care for me? I guess he isn’t bad after all.. but my stubborn self obviously had to snap back,

Y/n: “IDC I DIDN’T ASK FOR YOU TO FOLLOW ME, WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE IF I GET HURT OR NOT!”

J: “I DON’T, YOU KNOW WHAT! WALK HOME BY YOURSELF”

Y/n: “YOU KNOW WHAT, I WILL!”

❀ ❀ ❀

I’m not gonna lie to you I kind of regret saying that to him, it’s not really fun walking home alone when it’s pitch black outside. It was all silent walking home untill I heard something walking towards me, I assumed it was Jake so I turned around getting ready to yell at him, but to my luck it was a random man who came walking up towards me, he came over touching my waist giving me a creepy look, making me feel uncomfortable.

Stranger: “hey baby girl you look beautiful tonight, you want to come over to my house? We can have lots of fun” He winks creepily at me. Does he not know I’m a minor?? Gross.

Y/n: “get away from me!” I tell him as I walk faster pushing him off of me, he quickly grabbed my wrist and started touching me “you’re not going anywhere!”

I start to panic, not knowing what to do, I wish Jake was here I thought to myself as I’m about to cry feeling hopeless not knowing what I could do. Suddenly I hear something running towards me, a tall figure with dark brown hair, is it Jake? The familiar figure punched the creepy man leading him to fall on the ground groaning. He grabed my wrist “lets run!” He held my hand tight as we were running, his hand was soft and fit perfectly in mine.

J: “are you okay” he looks at my scared face holding my cheeks in his palms. I nod feeling a hard lump in my throat as I soon burst out crying tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay I’m here you don’t have to be scared anymore” he held me tight in his arms. Embracing me, his arms and chest were so warm something I really needed. Never in a million years did I think I’d be hugging my enemy like this. I continue crying in his chest as he strokes my hair in reassurance that I’m safe. “Y/n you’re so stupid, you could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

y/n: “I’m sorry” I continue crying

———

He walked me home safely still holding my hand, I look at him weirdly looking at him then looking back at our intertwined hands.

J: “oh right.. sorry”

Y/n: “how did you know I was in danger?”

J: “oh well it’s kind of silly actually, I was mad at you so I decided to do a mean prank to get you scared, but then that’s when I heard you scream so I ran up to you”

Y/n: “oh, well thanks for helping me I guess...” I said looking down at my fingers feeling ashamed.

J: “uhm anyways I’m gonna go home now.. gn loser” he said before he ran off putting his hood back on.

“Goodnight” I whisper, thankful that jake was there with me that night.

———

❀ The next day of school I went to my assigned seat which was in front of Jake. Then suddenly a non familiar boy comes inside the class, was he new?

T: “Class! Listen up.. we have a new student attending our school, and I would like for you to pay attention as he’s about to introduce himself.”

S: “Hi! My name is Sunoo Kim! Please take good care of me :)”

Who’s this new guys Sunoo he’s kind of cute....

T: “Sunoo you can sit next to y/n over there, y/n please raise up your hand so he knows who you are!”

S: “Hi!”

Y/n: “Hi I’m y/n, and your Sunoo right?”

S: “yess.”

The cute boy gave me a cute cheeky smile, I could tell we’ll become good friends. Class was over and it was time for lunch, I could tell that Sunoo didn’t have much friends since he’s new, so I asked him to have lunch with me. Sunoo and I talked about everything! It felt like we knew each other for so long, as if we were best friends. Jake passed by us giving us a weird glare. That’s weird I thought, he never usually glared at me like that, well I mean we’re enemies but he usually gives me a stupid teasing smile,, hmm that’s odd maybe he’s just in a bad mood.

———

School was over and it was time to walk home,

S: “Y/n!! Let’s walk home together, where do you live?”

Y/n: “oh I live near this block,, what about you?”

S: “OH really??!! I live here too, we live close to each other, lets walk home together sometimes!”

He’s so cute, charming and extroverted, we just got to know each other but I feel like we’ve been friends forever, is that weird?

Y/n: ok!

———

❀ Many weeks have passed and me and Sunoo became really close friends! Though Jake has been acting strange lately..

School ended quickly today,, Sunoo suddenly called out my name

S: “lets wak home together today!”

Y/n: “alright su-“

As I was about to finish my sentance Jake came over and grabed my hand intertwining his into mine.

J: “ahh sorry Sunoo she can’t, y/n’s mom told me to walk her home today.”

R: “ahh ok.. bye y/n I’ll see you next week!”

Y/n: “wait but but!” I wasnt able to finish my sentance since Jake already pulled me to the opposite direction. His hands... were in mine? Why am I feeling all sorts of butterflies in my stomach.. this is new, I never felt this way towards Jake before. It was kind of quiet during the walk home until the tension was broken and Jake said something as he stopped walking.

J: “lets go to the ice cream shop, just you and me.”

Y/n: “dont we hate eachother?”

J: “just shut up and come with me.”

He grabbed my hand forcing me to follow,

Y/n: “okay but you’re paying”

We arrived at the pretty ice cream place which was bright and pretty chilly. Jake went to go order the Ice creams while I looked around since I never been here before.

J: “two chocolate ice creams please”

He’s always been so polite towards everyone but me, his fluffy dark brown hair right about his eyes. He’s so cute.. why am I feeling this way towards him? We’re supposed to hate each other but here I am falling head over heels for Jake? No it can’t be, do I have a crush on him? How did he know I liked chocolate ice cream?We sat down at the near table, the place was super cute, perfect for a date. WAIT IS THIS A DATE?

Y/n: “Jake why did you take me here?”

J: “I needed to tell you something but finish your ice cream first”

Y/n: “oh uhm ok-“

J: “AW FUCK IT I CANT WAIT ANY LONGER Y/NILIKEYOU!”

I stool there frozen like a popsicle, did my enemy Jake just confess to me, this seems crazy but I think I like him too.

Y/n: “Jake I like you too..”

J: “iknowyoumightnotlikemebecausethewayItreatedyouwhenwewerekidsbutpleasegivemeachanceisweari’ll-“

Y/n: “JAKE! I said I like you too”

J: “what- really you mean it? You like me back” it was cute seeing him nervous because of me.

Y/n: “yeah I guess you’re not so bad..” I said teasingly

His worried face quickly turned into a big smile, we quickly finished the ice cream and walked outside of the ice cream place side by side. He stoped walking and looked at me.

J: “you have something on your lips” he said pointing

Y/n: “what where” I rubbed my mouth looking for the leftover ice cream”

J: “here” he grabbed my face leaning in for a deep kiss. “There all gone!” he runs away laughing like a little kid.

Y/n: “JAKE SIM I DIDN’T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO STEAL A KISS FROM ME!” I said chasing him, I guess you could say our relationship turned into an enemies to lovers type of thing.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jake #jake sim #enhypen x reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen cute #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #jake x reader #enhypen jake x reader #jake scenarios #jake imagines #jake reactions #jake oneshots #enhypen requests #enhypen jay #heeseung #lee heeseung #jungwon #i love sunoo #enhypen sunoo #sunoo x reader

[nbrook29]

Kiss or Slap

Sander doesn’t remember when exactly their group made the riverside near the Scheldt their new hangout spot, but he couldn’t be more grateful for it as a cold breeze washes over his overheated body, providing a momentary relief against the scorching heat falling from the sky. It’s probably why the park is fuller than it usually is on Thursday afternoons, packed with people spread on their picnic blankets, searching for a bit of shadow under the big trees and desperately craving a bit of wind. 

It’s so hot he doesn’t even feel like sketching, preferring to just lie on the grass without moving a single muscle, and dying in peace. Even the enticing smell of cinnamon rolls that Noor brought with her isn’t enough for him to reach out and take one from the basket, the action requiring too much movement on his part.

“Guys, come on, we have to start or we’ll never get it done! Sander, get your lazy ass up.” He grunts when he feels Leon’s merciless fingers jabbing him in the ribs.

“Can’t we wait until it gets a little less hot?”

“No, cause that’s not happening in the nearest future and we need new content,” Nathan butts in, followed by Noor, which makes Sander officially outvoted. So he heaves a deep sigh, puts his shirt back on and ruffles his hair to make himself more presentable, rolling his eyes at Noor’s appreciative whistling.

“Someone’s gonna snatch himself a bunch of kisses today with that smoldering look,” she teases, pretending to give him a once over.

“Is that your way of telling me you want one for yourself, sweetheart?” He’s immensely proud of himself when her entire face scrunches up in disgust.

“Eww, no, feels like incest at this point.” Which is kinda true given the fact they’ve known each other since kindergarten and became best friends making sand castles. He fires an obnoxious wink at her, fully anticipating a shove which comes as expected within seconds, with Noor calling him a creep in between laughter.

“Who should we start with? Senne? Wanna go first?” Sander watches as Leon takes out his camera equipment and checks the settings as the rest collects their things.

“I guess, yeah. And then Nathan after me?”

“I’m not doing it, man, you know Britt, she’s gonna flip out.”

“Be a good reason to break up with her,” Sander mutters under his breath, not really feeling apologetic when Nathan shoots him a glare. It would be a long time coming, and honestly, Sander can’t wait for that moment to come. Just being in her presence gives him chills, she’s that much of a horrible person. A few years ago, he read something about alternate universes and sometimes when he looks at her he can’t help but think there’s a history there with the two of them, in a past life or something. At least it would explain that weird energy between them.

If it’s true, he feels very sorry for that Sander. 

He roots for him to run far away from said devil’s spawn.

“I can go next, I don’t have the ball and chain,” Noor says innocently, but she’s smirking over Nathan’s shoulder at Sander who pretends to high five her in their shared hatred for Britt.

“Yeah, us lonely birds will sacrifice ourselves and take the hit for the wellbeing of our channel,” Sander laments playfully, making Senne snort.

“Dude, you’re on your own by your own choice.”

“And pickiness. Don’t forget pickiness,” Noor adds smugly.

Sander huffs in protest. “I’m not picky! I just...” He cuts off because he’s not about to just explain it all now.

“Just what?”

“Specific about what I want.”

Brown curls, brown eyes, shortish, lean, pierced ear, cute giggle, elegant hands and a smile brighter than the sun. 

To be exact.

“Yeah. That’s picky.”

“Whatever,” he replies grumpily, and decides to ignore Noor’s knowing look. Sometimes he feels like she has a sixth sense and can read him like a book. Or she’s just less oblivious than the boys in their friend group. That’s a totally possible option too.

Thankfully, she doesn’t push him further (she’s awesome like that), though Sander has a feeling she’s gonna grill him later when they’re alone. For now, she checks her lipstick in her phone as they all briefly plan the video.

Not like there’s that much to plan; a few days ago, they decided to shoot a kiss or slap challenge for their YouTube channel because it had been wildly requested by their viewers.

Sander still doesn’t quite know how he became a part of a YouTube channel in the first place, always considering himself to be a bit more, well, sophisticated than that? But Leon was into it from the beginning and made them all participate in exchange for free beer, until one day one of their videos blew up.

If you can call getting 100k views on one video blowing up. 

Anyway, they got semi-popular amongst Flemish teens and even managed to snatch a sponsorship with Mentos (however small the offer was) that paid actual money. And he had just managed to move out of his family house so any money coming his way he welcomed with no questions asked. 

So they’ve kept shooting silly challenges slash anything else that’s a trend at a given time and have been able to cover their art supply needs with what little they earned. And, though Sander refused to admit it in the beginning, it’s actually kinda fun. It’s definitely better than his part time job at Pull&Bear where he has to deal with obnoxious customers on an almost daily basis.

They record a short introduction near the river, quickly going over the rules and explaining that the three of them will be competing in who gets more kisses versus slaps. 

“Hey, you know what, this is actually unfair cause you both can kiss anybody,” Senne points out all of a sudden, receiving four pairs of unimpressed glances.

“No one’s stopping you from getting kisses from boys too, dude,” Sander is quick to shut him up, shit-eating grin on his face as he gives him his first (light) slap to the cheek. 

They follow Senne around the park with a camera as he turns on his charm and smiles sweetly at the girls he chooses for the challenge, doing surprisingly well on the first few attempts. But when they venture deeper into the park and he tries his luck with college girls, he gets 5 slaps in the row to the rest of the group’s utter delight. In the end, his results are a blow to his pride and even Sander feels sorry for him, giving him a pat on the back while trying to hold his laughter in at Senne’s grumpy face.

Noor does much better, naturally, as her upbeat personality and a wide smile have always made boys and girls turn their heads. She gets a kiss after kiss, blush after blush, and two phone numbers in the process. Senne argues again that it’s unfair because no one’s gonna slap a girl anyway, but Leon just calls him a sore loser while Noor shamelessly flirts in French with another girl right in front of the camera.

Sander’s very proud.

Taking a quick sip of water, he gives Leon a thumbs up and starts his round, coming over to three blond girls chilling near the skateboarding ramps, trying very hard not to come off as creepy and clarifying the kiss part being only a cheek kiss. The girls erupt in giggles, but they all grant him a light kiss. One of them tries to flirt with him after, but he shoots her down before she can get too into it.

“Such a heartbreaker, you,” Noor coos at Sander’s pained face when they all walk away.

“That’s you, and you actually enjoy it,” he quips back, sticking his tongue at her.

“I do not, shut up!”

Fifteen minutes and fourteen kisses later he’s officially in the lead, sealing his victory with a kiss number fifteen he receives from a cute redhead. He’s gloating in Senne’s bemused face about nobody choosing to slap him when he stops in his tracks.

It’s the proof of his hopeless infatuation that he’d recognize that laugh everywhere.

He looks around for its source, but he comes up short. Then, his eyes focus on the skatepark area and his heart starts beating faster.

Because it feels like a sign. Like the universe is giving him a chance to finally do something. Make a move.

“Hey, can we shoot one more try?” He asks the guys, trying to sound casual while glancing furtively in the direction of brown curls.

“You’ve already won, but I guess?”

Nobody questions him about his reasons, they just follow him to the ramp.

And he’s so fucking nervous. 

It’s incredible, really, how he generally has no problems talking to people he’s interested in, conversation flowing without him even trying, gaining easy smiles and appreciative looks wherever he goes, some natural confidence to him. 

But that boy. That boy is something else.

He makes him question everything he says, makes his palms sweat and makes his deep hidden shyness come onto the surface.

Sander saw him for the first time during Open Day at the Academie in may, strolling casually through the hallway with his friend, completely oblivious to the turmoil he was causing to Sander’s heart.

That was the day Sander saw an angel. 

Fate placed him on his path again sooner than he could’ve hoped, the boy participating in a 2 week film course at his school only several days after he saw him for the first time. And he tried so hard to convince himself to talk to him over that time, but he only managed a few smiles while passing him by in the hallway. 

That and that one stupid joke he said to him while they were waiting in line at the cafeteria that makes him cringe in despair just thinking about it. Seriously, it’s like his entire cool evaporates when he’s near him.

But, the boy laughed at it. So maybe it wasn’t as horrible as Sander is making it to be. Or he was just being nice. 

Robbe. 

Robbe, who he’s been crushing on ever since that fateful day in may.

Robbe, who was at the same party he was last weekend.

Robbe, who he talked to at that party and managed to calm his nerves enough to be charming and funny.

Robbe, who giggled, blushed and bit his lip at Sander’s dumb jokes that evening.

Robbe, who slipped through his fingers because Sander blacked out soon after.

He almost never drinks, but that one night he did, celebrating the beginning of summer break, and not realizing his usual abstinence meant he was now officially a lightweight. What an awful timing.

Robbe doesn’t notice him right away, having his back turned to him while talking animatedly to his friends. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile to his face to hide his nervousness, he approaches them.

“Hey guys, got a second?”

He notices the recognition in Robbe’s face right away, and Sander shoots him a quiet “hi” when his eyes meet his, an unsure smile blooming on his face.

“Hey, what’s up?” One of the boys nods at the camera.

“I’m Sander, and we’re shooting a video for our YouTube channel, the kiss or slap challenge,” he quickly explains, the boys’ faces lighting up.

“Hey, we have a channel too! I’m Moyo, this is Jens, Aaron, and Robbe.” Moyo reaches out to bump his fist with him and damn, Sander has to find that channel if Robbe is a part of it.

Jens levels him with a look. “So, you want us to kiss you or slap you?” 

“Pretty much, yeah?” Sander chuckles because he’s aware it’s ridiculous, but he’s a man on a mission here, give him a break.

“I think Robbe should represent all of us, don’t you think so?” Moyo proposes, tongue in his cheek as he checks with the rest of his friends. Sander catches the death glare Robbe sends the boy before looking back at him and crossing his arms, looking a bit out of place. And, fuck, the last thing Sander wants is to make him uncomfortable.

So he asks softly, “you’re in?” and waits for agonizing five seconds as Robbe watches him, eyes narrowed, before his features smooth out and he smiles at him.

“Sure, why not.”

Relieved, Sander lets out a chuckle and tries to keep his cool. “Okay then - kiss or slap?”

Robbe squints against the sun and makes him wait another few seconds before he answers, but Sander’s not worried because there’s a soft smile on his face and obviously his angel wouldn’t-

“Slap.”

Wait, what.

He can hear his friends bursting in laughter at this unexpected turn of events while Sander can only stare in shock because how could he miscalculate the situation this much?

Gulping, confused and heartbroken, he asks, “you’re sure?”, to which Robbe nods with a poorly hidden glee.

“But you have to close your eyes cause I can’t hit you while you're looking at me.”

Heaving a deep sigh and trying to save a face despite the humiliation flooding his body, he nods and closes his eyes, steeling himself for it.

But it never comes.

Suddenly, he feels a hand cupping his cheek and he flinches a little, but then soft lips touch his in a kiss so gentle he blinks his eyes open, not knowing what’s happening.

“That was payback for you promising to call me and not keeping your word,” Robbe whispers against his lips before leaning away, something sad and wistful passing through his face. Sander is left completely dumbfounded, ignoring the hollering from the two groups as his eyes fleet all over Robbe’s face.

It’s difficult for him to collect his thoughts because holy fuck, Robbe has just kissed him and he’s internally freaking out. He finally manages to get his bearings when the remnants of a smile slip off Robbe’s lips.

“I-, Robbe, you have no idea how much I wanted to call you, but I don’t have your number.”

“I gave it to you. At the party?” He doesn’t look like he believes a word Sander is saying.

“Um, I kinda blacked out and don’t remember much after like one-ish?”

“You saved it though, I saw you typing it in,” Robbe argues again, but this time he doesn’t look so sure. “Wait, what’s your number?”

Sander watches him entering digit after digit before hitting call. He fully expects a plain number to appear on his screen, eyes widening when he sees what pops up instead.

zk bambieys 🥺🦌👁️💘🧡💖💞 calling

“Fuck, you did give me your number.” He’s not fast enough to hide his screen from Robbe, but he can't even feel embarrassment once he notices the frown disappeared from his face.

“Bambi eyes?” There's a teasing note in his voice, but his pink cheeks sell him out.

Sander scratches his head. "I was very drunk, you can't hold it against me. Also, your eyes are really beautiful," he clarifies, winking when Robbe laughs at his shameless flirting. "Hey, I tried to find you on instagram, but nothing came up. I was really hoping we're gonna bump into each other again. Sorry for being a dumbass and not realizing I had your number this entire time?”

“It’s okay.” Robbe shoves his hand into the pockets of his jeans, swaying on his heels. Sander decides to put them both out of their misery and take the initiative.

“So if I asked you out, would you say yes?”

It looks like Robbe’s about to nod, but then he bites his lip, an almost cheeky smile directed at him. “I guess you have to call me to find out.” And then he gets on his skateboard and casually skates away to the nearest ramp, pulling a surprised laugh out of Sander.

If he was intrigued before, now he’s totally smitten with this wonder of a boy, because damn. 

Their friends finally seem to regain their voices and speak over each other at what just happened, but Sander doesn’t pay them any attention, just takes out his phone again and pressing the call button. 

Watching as Robbe comes to a full stop at the top of the ramp, he cocks his head with a grin and waits until he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Sander.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Robbe laughs into the speaker.

“Will you go out with me?”

He meets his eyes across the skatepark as Robbe makes him wait again.

Then, with a smile so radiant it overshadows the sun, the boy finally gives him his answer.

“Yes.”

#wtfock #my fics #i think i prefer writing sobbe in canon #i kinda struggle with the AU versions of them #😫

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 7

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.4k

Part 6 || Part 8 || masterlist

[a/n]

I’m so sorry for the delayed update. Things are happening in my personal life that my writing has incredibly slowed down. 

To that anon who was asking for updates, I’m sorry if I made it seem like you were rushing me (in case you weren’t). Sometimes, I just tend to feel so pressured that I easily project that to others. 

Y’all been excited for this. Here you go, a drunk Tsukishima to make up for the slow update. 

AO3 link is on the masterlist in case Tumblr crashes on you from how long this update is. 

Your eyes widen at the current state of Tsukishima. You look around warily, checking if there’s any mutual classmate you know who is around. But with how dim the club is, the attempt to do so is futile.

“Tsukishima…” you protest while prying his hands away from your waist. 

“We’re in public!” You hiss at his behavior, but he’s completely unfazed. His hands keep creeping back at the spot they were rooted at. 

His facial expression doesn’t falter either. He’s still wearing that silly grin that looks nothing like his usual ones. “So? Didn’t you hug me publicly, right in the middle of the Sendai Gym?” he counters with a cocked brow as his elated grin turns to a clever smirk.

Oh God. What has Tsukishima turned into? He’s like one of those guys who hit on you, but the difference is you’re actually flustered by it. 

Even with his hands and gaze glued to you, you turn to the bartender. “How long has he been here?” you shout. “A while now,” the bartender shouts back. 

You glance at Tsukki’s consumed glasses again. It’s only one glass and two shot glasses. How can he be this drunk already? 

You don’t wonder too long before figuring it out. Tsukishima’s definitely a lightweight, shown by his level of intoxication at the moment even though in reality, he hasn’t had much to drink.

Why did he even drink in the first place? He said he doesn’t see the point of parties. Why is he here getting himself hammered? You grimace when you realize that there’s training tomorrow. You’ve scolded members before for such behavior and now they know better than to get wasted when there’s practice the next day.

You did not expect such irresponsibility from Tsukishima, who’s always exhibited exemplary behavior.

“You should go home.” You mean to sound strict, but with his body being a bit too close, your voice falters. 

He cups the back of your head and pulls you so that his lips are ghosting against your ear.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” he says haughtily.

It’s a very familiar scenario with a very different Tsukishima holding you in place. If he’s his usual self (sober and pissed off at you), you’d be teasing him for coming to this club. Instead, you’re the flustered one as his fingers brush your nape while his breath fans your ear. 

“G-go home, Tsukki,” you stutter as you feel his grip on your waist tighten.

“But why?” His hand on your nape travels down on your spine. “Didn’t you say I was welcome to go here?” The ends of your hair prickle up as he presses the warmth of his lips on your cheek when he pulls away slightly.  

It was almost the same scenario when you first saw him in this very same club - the whispering, the closeness, the incredible urge to feel his mouth on yours. The difference is Tsukishima himself. Unlike before when you two were fighting the pull of the temptation, this time, it’s worse because of his suggestive demeanor. 

“Stop it,” you chastise him with a little bit more conviction.

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.” He withdraws until his lips are only an inch away from yours. 

You take a deep breath, collecting yourself before pushing yourself away from him. “Go home, Tsukishima. You have training tomorrow!” you shout to make sure he hears you without leaning close to him. 

He looks at you like he doesn’t understand shit. His tipsy grin is now wiped off, replaced with an  empty, clueless Tsukishima staring at you. You don’t falter though. You continue glaring at him. Luckily, it seems to  sink in his head after a few seconds as he finally stands up.

At the first step he takes, he staggers like a high school student who got drunk for the first time. You start to feel bad for him because he looks like he really is struggling with it while continuing to fiddle with his glass as if that’s the cause of his apparent dizziness.

You position yourself underneath his arm and help him balance himself. 

You groan as you wobble when he rests some of his weight to you. How can you momentarily forget that he’s a professional athlete weighing more than 160 lbs? You’re always surrounded by tall men, and this has made you think that that height is normal, when in reality they can crush you in a snap. 

You realize that Tsukishima is a lot more busted than you thought. You can see he’s actually trying to walk normally but is failing miserably. 

You’ve already talked to most of your friends so you don’t mind helping him get back home. Not that it matters. You’d still be helping him get back home even if you hadn’t. Aside from being one of your players, he’s also your study partner. You can’t just leave him be. 

With a very drunk Tsukishima on one shoulder, you hail a taxi and carefully make him sit inside. Your initial plan is just getting him a ride home, but looking at him now, you’re not sure if that’s the best idea. He might suddenly pass out. Who knows what will happen to him then?

You sigh as you get yourself inside the cab as well. 

You give the driver the address of the Tsukishima’s while he rests his head on top of yours. “This car is moving too much,” he complains with discomfort crisp in his voice. The vehicle is rather stable. It’s the alcohol in his head that’s making things shaky for him. 

Instead of letting him lean on you, you carefully settle his head against the headrest of the car seat so he’s leaning back instead of sideways. You kneel instead of sitting so you can use your hands to keep his head steady because he’s too darn tall. 

After a short while, he lets out a sigh of relief from the stability your hands provided. His features are more relaxed now that his brows are no longer scrunched up and his lips no longer pressed in a strained manner.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head a bit to look at you. He grasps one of your wrists as he gives you a faint smile that doesn’t resemble anything he’s given you, not even the dumb one he did at the club.

It’s a tender and genuine smile that softens up his usually stern face. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

Yes, you’re well aware. You hear it all the time that the word lost any shred of novelty it once had. 

But when Tsukishima says it, your heart skips a beat.  He isn’t flirting with you. He’s looking at you like he’s stating an observation he finds pleasing to him, like you’re a sight he’s truly enjoying to see.

You almost let go of his face from the uncanny feeling on your chest that’s making you uneasy, but you halt yourself when you remember that this guy’s world will spin faster than Jupiter’s rotation if you let him be.

You let out a deep sigh to calm yourself down.

“I know,” you respond firmly to hide the fuzzy mess that you are on the inside. 

“If I’m not so fucking plastered, I’d kiss you.”

You suck in a sharp breath upon hearing it, the yearning to do so creeping up fast behind you. 

You can do it yourself. You’re not dizzy. It’d be so easy. His face is already in your grasp anyways. You just have to lean forward a bit and you can easily grant him what both of you want. 

Should you?

It’d just be one of your harmless kisses, right? You’ve done it countless times before. One more shouldn’t hurt. 

“We’re here.”

You’re harshly brought back to sanity by the driver’s cue that you’ve reached his home. You’re thankful for it because you were really about to kiss him even though you’re the one who said that the deal is no more. You would have slapped yourself if your hands aren’t full.

You pay the driver and help Tsukishima get out of the car. 

You get under his one arm again and assist his steps so he doesn’t stumble. Once you reach their doorstep, he gets his keys from his pockets but scuffles trying to insert it in the keyhole. Instead of getting pissed, he laughs sardonically and faces you. 

“Look, y/n. The key is fucking stupid,” he says, completely believing that it’s the key’s fault and is actually snickering at the inanimate piece of metal’s ‘incapability’ to shoot itself where it needs to be. 

You can’t help but laugh. Even at his drunken state, he still roasts things he deems doltish. It’s funnier cause he talks a bit dopey while insulting the innocent key. He’s still failing after a while so you volunteer to do it. 

“I can do it,” he says seriously and on his next attempt, he does get it in. Then he looks at you and smirks proudly. “See?”

You shake your head and roll your eyes at how absurd he’s acting, but the grin on your face remains. He is still very much himself. It’s just that his rudeness is comically misplaced. Yet as entertaining as it is to watch, you can feel the strain in your shoulders and upper back already. 

You open the door and hope that a relative is somehow still awake to take Tsukki off your hands. Still no luck for you as you’re greeted with nothing but silence. 

“Where’s your room?” “Upstairs, left.”

Great. Can this get even worse? Your original plan is just getting him a cab. Now you have to personally walk him to his room since he’s hopeless treading on a flat surface. What more on a flight of stairs?

You ask him to close the door and lock it before you head up. “Alright, Tsukki. Let’s get you in bed,” you tell yourself as a motivational push to get the task done. 

You huff every step you take because he really is too heavy for you and you’ve had a long night already. You’ll be sure to reprimand him tomorrow for this.

“Y/n?” 

You lift your head up from wooden steps and see Akiteru at the top end of the stairs.

“Aki-san!” You can’t be more thankful upon his arrival.

He urgently goes to you, stopping a few steps up from you and Tsukki.

“What happened to him?” Akiteru asks concernedly. 

“He’s…” you try to think of a more decent word but you can’t think of any at the moment so you tell it as it is. “He’s drunk,” you admit. 

Akiteru’s expression is even more incredulous than yours was back in the bar. He’s looking at you and Tsukki interchangeably. 

“You... you got him to drink?” 

You don’t know if you’re offended or amused because Akiteru looks like he’s extremely grateful that you caused this to his brother.

“I-uh... no. I found him like this in the club. I think you should take him already,” you suggest. You’re about to lift Tsukki’s arm off of you when you feel him resist. When you turn to him, he’s already looking at you with displeasure. “You said you would get me in bed,” he states.

Is he fucking serious? Hell no. You have no reason to do so when Akiteru is here already. “Aki-san, please,” you implore while glaring at Tsukki. 

“Umm... you heard him, y/n.”

You harshly turn your head at Akiteru from disbelief. When your gaze lands on him, he’s sporting an innocent smile, a stark contrast to knowing that the intention behind it is not so innocent.

“Aki-san?” your voice rises a bit from bewilderment at what he’s insinuating. 

“Why do you call Nii-chan by his name?” Tsukki slurs as he asks. 

“Huh?” You eye Tsukki exasperatedly. You have yet to absorb what Akiteru is implying and Tsukki is already adding up to the initial question mark hanging on your head.

“You just met him and you already call him Aki-san. We’ve been working together for three years, yet you don’t call me Kei. Not even when we ki-”

You cover his mouth and laugh awkwardly and loudly. “Tsukki! What are you talking about?” You make yourself sound clueless as you give him a very subtle glare while smiling, hoping that he gets your warning.

“When you what?” Akiteru prods, his eyes still friendly, but with amusement lurking beneath them.

You form a smile but with Tsukki’s weight and his intoxicatedness that’s causing him to babble nonsense, it comes out distressed.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” you persist. “I should really go now. It’s really late, Aki-san. Please,” you press on.

“You can stay,” Tsukki suggests with a faint smirk.

“I agree with Kei. It really is late. We’d be responsible if something happens to you,” he explains kindly, but you know his concern is only second place to what he’s actually thinking. You can tell he’s rooting for you and his younger brother.

“Yeah, I don’t want to be responsible for you,” Tsukki announces with his voice a bit garbled.

Akiteru laughs at Tsukki’s remark but thwarts it immediately as he eyes you apologetically. “Sorry about my brother,” he whispers with one hand covering his mouth. 

“Just sleep with me in my room.”

Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, it does. Your mouth gapes at Tsukki from how he just uttered that inappropriate statement right in front of his older brother. 

You turn to Akiteru defensively. “It’s not what you think.”

Akiteru’s courteous smile doesn’t faze as he says, “I’m not thinking anything, y.n.”

The whole situation makes you want to let go of Tsukki’s arm and jump off the railings of stairs. Then, you’ll wake up in the morning and find that you’ve escaped this entire scenario altogether.

You sigh and wave an imaginary white flag in your head. “I’ll make sure he’s fine,” you say to Akiteru.

You see his eyes light up. Since you and Tsukki are already occupying the narrowness of the stairs, Akiteru can’t go to Tsukki’s other arm to help you. Instead, he goes back up and opens a door on the left.

He keeps it open until you reach what you surmise is Tsukki’s room.

Once you get inside, you hear Akiteru speak, “Thanks for taking care of my brother, y.n.” He closes the door before you can say anything.

Rather than minding Akiteru, you pour your attention on Tsukki, getting him to sit down with his head leaning against a wall.

You feel the instant relief on your shoulders with Tsukki’s weight off them. However, you can’t ease up yet. You have to go to their kitchen and get this guy some water.

You’ll complain later or tomorrow, but for now, you’re going to focus on getting shit done.

You’re about to head out of his room when the door opens itself, causing you to yelp from shock. 

“Sorry,” Akiteru apologizes with a hushed voice. In his hand is a huge bottle of water which he extends to you with congenial fondness. 

“Goodnight,” he says prior to closing the door.

Akiteru is pleasant, but he can’t be more obvious on how he eminently pairs you up with his brother.

You don’t delve into it further as you need to get Tsukki all fixed up. You walk over to where you seated him and make him drink the water Akiteru gave.

You need to make sure he’s not totally hammered when he sleeps. You don’t want him with a hangover tomorrow and skip training when the next match is just a week away. 

He seems in need of the liquid too since he quickly finishes the bottle as soon as he takes it. He clumsily slams the empty bottle on his desk and stands up precariously.

“Woah there. Where are you going?” you ask imperiously.

“Bathroom,” he answers. He tips his head towards you as a corner of his lip shoots up. “Why? Care to join me?”

You want to fight back with a sarcastic ‘No, thank you,’ but he still walks a bit funny so you can’t exactly let him be. You sigh as you take his arm again and aid him as he walks.

“Only until the door,” you patiently answer. 

As much as you want to be a smartass like him, you need the Frog’s starting middle blocker to never miss a training. You can’t have him tripping, falling flat on his face, or accidentally bumping on a wall. 

You let him inside the restroom. Luckily, they have one on this floor so bless your shoulders and upper back. When he comes out, he looks a little less disoriented and his sense of balance is somehow stable with how he’s standing. 

You follow him as he goes back to his room. To your shock, he immediately crawls to bed without changing. ‘Disgusting,’ you comment mentally. He came from outside, a club specifically. How could he not bother changing?

“Aren’t you going to change clothes?” you ask, your grossed out tone clearly heard.

“I’m tired and I’m still slightly dizzy,” he says nonchalantly.

He begins settling down while you’re standing there, tired and dumbfounded. “Where am I supposed to sleep?” He glances around his room, probably trying to recall where he put an extra mattress. Only two seconds later, he gives his bed one firm tap as if to tell you that you’re sleeping beside him. 

You close your eyes from exhaustion and exasperation combined. You don’t want to sleep next to Tsukishima but it has been one hell of an evening already that you’ll take what you can get. He’s already sobered up a bit anyway. You’re at ease that he’ll keep his hands to himself.

You walk to his drawers and find a pair of loose clothing he can comfortably sleep in. Then you stride to his bed and give it to him. He looks at the clothes you’re holding then at you.

On a regular day, he wouldn’t dare sit on his bed without changing after spending time outside.. Tonight is the only exception because he truly isn’t up to the task anymore. He’ll just change his sheets tomorrow. 

He only wants to lie in bed and shut his eyes already. But with you handing him a change of clothes, he has no reason to not to do so anymore.

No reason but to get back at you for giving him hell when you got yourself sick and passed out with only him present to take care of you. 

“I told you I’m dizzy,” he says without accepting the clothes you’re offering him. 

“Don’t tell me I have to change your clothes myself.” He can hear you’re about to lose it and it’s spurring him on even more. He hides his smirk and shrugs indifferently, leaving it to you to decide that for yourself.

You palm your face furiously and it’s almost breaking his resolve to keep a steady face. You prove to have a sensible amount of control on your temper as you recover after one excruciating deep breath. He’s not exactly surprised though. You’ve been a manager for three years now and handling male athletes is not exactly a walk in the park if one has temper problems.

You put one knee on his bed as you start tugging his shirt up. “Why did you even drink?” 

 “Why do you care?” He answers the same way you did when he asked why you bother going to parties.

“Because I’m the one taking care of you!” you almost yell as you dress him in a new shirt. When you successfully change his shirt, you glance at his pants then to his eyes. You didn’t have to utter a word to let him know that you don’t plan to change that particular piece of clothing.

He doesn’t falter though. If he tasted hell because he had to undress your top while you were passed out, he couldn’t miss the chance to return the favor.

“So? You didn’t hear shit from me when I had to take care of your sick ass,” he says, pouring salt to the right burn so he can push you to go along with his scheme.

You clench your jaw as you avert your eyes from his.

“You were a real handful, you know that?” he continues on. “Come to think of it. You’ve heard not a single complaint from me about that night. Should I lecture you now?” His lips betray his apathetic facade when a smirk forms on his face. 

You smile at him with utter displeasure but don’t say anything as you start unzipping his pants, your spiteful eyes never leaving his amused ones.

“I’d love it if you help by lifting your sarcastic butt,” you sound distressed as you try to pull down his pants. 

He grips both your hands that are tugging on his waistband. He props himself up a bit, leaning down and closing in on your stunned yet still delightful face.

“Why do you look so surprised? You asked me to help you, right?” he asks with a subdued voice as he tugs his pants down. 

You turn your face away from his and don't answer his question as you continue what he started. His eyes never trail off your features until you successfully take his pants off

With your face still turned away from his, you grab the shorts you took earlier and toss it to his face. “Seems like you’re not dizzy anymore,” you say as you head to his closet. 

For no fucking reason, he’s laughing elatedly. He might not be dizzy anymore but he can still feel the aftermath of the drinks he rushed drinking at the club. Is this why people get drunk? Because even the most trivial things are funny?

No. It’s because he’s drunk. It’s because of how entertaining you look when you’re a flustered mess. Before you looked away, he caught the wild blush on your cheeks, the stir in your eyes, and the way your hands trembled as you undressed him.

Initially, he wanted you to put on the shorts you got for him as well. But he figures he can show you mercy and do this one on his own since he already had his fun seeing you in a flustered state.

You open his closet and pick your own set of fresh clothes to borrow. Without saying anything, you step out of his room and head towards their restroom.

The first thing you do inside is check your reflection and goddamn it--you’re blushing like a teenager about to lose her virginity.

You groan frustratedly as you softly slap your cheek with your free hand. Tsukishima is tipsy and is just messing with you. Why do you have to be so affected? 

You turn the faucet on and hurriedly wash the heat off your face. When you feel like you’ve cooled off, you look up at the mirror to check if you’re no longer a bursting tomato.

You sigh with relief when you see that your face is back to normal. You turn off the faucet and begin changing to Tsukki’s clothes.

As expected, everything is loose. His shirt is almost a dress. Actually, it already is with how it’s draping just above your knees. You had to use your hair tie to knot a portion of his shorts’ waistband for it to not to drop on your ankles. 

It’ll be uncomfortable sleeping with lumped fabric on your hips but you’d prefer that than not wearing anything underneath his shirt.

You neatly fold your clothes and go back to his room. Another wave of relief hits you when you see him lying down with his eyes closed already. His glasses are already off too. Despite the strenuous and outrageous turn of events earlier tonight, you’re actually glad that he’s safe and sleeping soundly. 

Hopefully tomorrow, he’s going to be fine and forget the shit he pulled on you tonight. 

You take a deep breath as you sit on his bed. Fortunately, his bed is wide enough for you to have some decent amount of space away from him. He also has another pillow so you can sleep comfortably with one of your own. You just pray that it won’t be so cold because there is only one blanket.

Oh well. You’ll cross the bridge when you get there. 

You get his extra pillow and lie down. Once your back hits the soft mattress, your eyes shut close on their own. You feel the weight in your legs and back settle as your body starts to relax. You know that any moment now, you’ll fall asleep so you turn to your side with your back facing Tsukishima. 

You were right. You already feel your consciousness drifting off not long after, only to be disrupted by an arm sliding over your waist.

“What the-”

“My head hurts.” 

Even if Tsukishima doesn’t say anything, you already know how close he is with warm breath fanning your nape. You’d scoot away but you’re already at the edge of his bed.

You harshly remove his arm and face him to give him a not so peaceful piece of your mind. You toss around to face him and when you do, you forget your annoyance as you’re met with a very distressed Tsukishima. His eyes are closed and his brows are furrowed together in almost a straight line. 

“How bad is it?” You ask as you gently brush his hair away from his forehead. 

“Like someone’s driving a fucking nail on my head,” he spats out with the crease on his brows getting deeper. 

You gently slide one hand under his head and so you can massage his temples with both thumbs, hopefully it’ll soothe him even just a bit. 

Thankfully, the crease on his brows and the tension around his nose and mouth eases up. “Where are your painkillers?” I ask softly. “I’ll go get one for you.”

He opens his eyes, a certain tenderness dancing in his orbs while he stares right onto yours. “Just stay here,” he utters delicately as he gradually slides his arm back to your waist. With a firm but still gentle grip on the small of your back, he draws you closer to him until there’s almost no space between your bodies. 

This is different, way too different than he was earlier. And to be honest, you’d prefer that over this. This… it’s something even you cannot name. 

Your thumbs stop moving on their own accord as he inches his face closer. You almost gasp for air with how heavy and thick it suddenly feels. 

“Uh..,” you trail off without even saying anything. You just thought if you said something, it would break the tension. However, it only made it worse.

“Hmm?”

You seem to be the only one uncomfortable as he’s still gazing intently at you like it’s nothing. 

“W-Why are you staring at me like that?” What the hell did you stutter for? This is just Tsukishima, goddamnit.

“It hurts less when I do.” You’d think he’s joking but there’s no trace of derision anywhere on his face. He removes his hand from your waist only to rest it on your neck, his thumb grazing your jaw as he says, “I don’t like that I can’t see you clearly right now.” 

It’s too much. 

Your chest feels like it’s about to explode from how fast your heart is pounding. You want to retract your hands away from him, but you can’t move them because having them there makes him feel better. 

Then he looks down on your lips, a knowing look that you’re very much familiar with.

“Tsukki, we can’t do this,” you whisper, causing his eyes to go back on yours. 

“What are we doing anyway?” he asks as if he’s not aware of what he’s stirring in you. 

“You know what,” you insist. There’s no way he doesn’t.

“I don’t. Maybe if we actually do something, I’ll know what you’re talking about.”

You squint at him with disbelief, not buying the innocent act of him not grasping the situation when he’s the one causing it. “We already broke that deal, Tsukki.”

“Then let’s bring it back,” he counters right off the bat. 

You sigh while shaking your head disagreeably. “You’re drunk,” you state plainly, reminding yourself of this fact to rationalize the way he’s behaving, to calm the havoc that he’s inciting in you. 

You put your thumbs back to work and knead his temples again.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agrees as he closes his eyes again. He lets out a reposed sigh, then removes his hand from your neck.

You can now rest easy as the temptation backs away himself. You keep at it, observing his stern features which are getting more lax while you continue massaging him. 

Finally, he does as you want him to do: sleep and keep his hands to himself. 

So why is there a nagging emptiness brimming inside you? You’re not actually disappointed, are you? 

“Tsukki,” you utter his name in hushed tones, hoping that he won’t respond. 

With his eyes still shut, you thought he wouldn’t. Yet, he answers just as softly as you called him. “What?”

You sigh. Why is he still awake? He could’ve been asleep already or just stayed quiet and ignored you. Then you’d be able to sleep soundly knowing that you didn’t do anything that you could possibly regret in the morning. 

You stop encircling your thumbs on his head and rest your palms on his cheeks instead. You lean closer to his face. 

“If you change your mind in the morning, forget this happened,” you whisper before you succumb to the snares of attraction you’ve been running away from since you saw Tsukishima in the bar. 

You capture his lips, gradually easing into it, giving yourself time to retreat before he responds. Apart from you not wanting to, he doesn’t give you much time at all as he puts his hand back on your neck and returns the kiss with a guttural sigh.

He eagerly nips on your lips, ardently moving against them as if he’s been wanting to do this for a while already. You respond with the same passion, pressing yourself closer to feel his body firm against yours. 

He moves his hand from your neck to the back of your head, lightly gripping your hair as he coaxes your mouth open with the flick of his tongue on your lower lip. 

You immediately yield to him, parting your lips so you can have more of what he’ll give. When he slips his tongue in and grazes yours, you taste the slight tang of alcohol. It’s very subtle, barely there, but it’s causing a buzz in your senses that no other liquor has provided. 

It’s only a kiss, but you know that this is unlike the previous harmless ones you’ve shared with him. 

Your soft moans on his mouth and his lips growing greedier with each nip tells you that this is one very dangerous kiss. 

You drag your hand from his cheek to his chest to push him away, but he suddenly tugs your hair down, giving himself access to the column of your neck. This time, rather than nudging him away, you clutch his shirt tightly, feeling his mouth trail along the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“T-Tsukishima,” you whine as his hand travels down your ass, his huge palm and long fingers tugging on the fabric as he gives one cheek a firm squeeze.

“Hmmm?” he hums on your skin before you feel his tongue swipe down on your collarbone.

Your skin is on fire but you feel like you’re drowning. Everything he’s doing is compelling you to want to go further than this, to let him touch you beneath the clothes you’re wearing, to let him kiss you wherever he pleases.

Tsukishima wants nothing but precisely that. He’d blame the alcohol, but nothing’s more intoxicating than the sound of your whimpers and your body deliciously pressed against his. His clothes hanging loosely on you only adds to his delirium. 

He knows this is going to lead to something incredibly stupid and totally reckless, but stupid and reckless has never felt this delectable. How can he not indulge himself when the promise of your rapture is just within his grasp? 

He just needs to know if you’re willing to cross the obscure boundary of the deal you once had. 

He puts his free hand to use, sliding it underneath the baggy shirt you’re wearing. He carefully skims his hand up, grazing his fingers just below your bra. Meanwhile, his other hand on your bottom goes a bit further down, only for him to slip his hand inside the oversized shorts and feel your almost bare ass.

With his other hand feeling empty, he moves his palm up and kneads one supple bosom. 

“Ah,” you clench his shirt tighter as you mewl from his touch. Even though he can’t see you clearly, your voice and the way your arch your body even closer to him is enough to cause a tent to form in his shorts. 

He withdraws away from your neck and gets back to your lips. With his hand on your behind, he lugs you closer and grinds his erection on your thigh, letting you know how much you affect him, how much he wants you right now. 

Then your body stills along with the quivering of your lips. 

He pulls back to look at you and even with his blurred vision, he can sense that you’re frightened. “What’s wrong?” Just a while ago, you were melting within his embrace. Now, you’re shaking like a leaf.

“I-” Your breath hitches when you speak. “I can’t do this,” you whisper weakly even though you’re the one who instigated the kiss that led to this. 

Although he’s confused about the sudden change of heart, he doesn’t push it. He immediately removes his hands off your delicate parts and puts considerable space between you. 

“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to seem so scared,” he tells you with an insipid, yet reassuring tone. 

You are scared, but not of Tsukishima. You’re afraid of yourself, of your own desire that’s starting to get out of control. You know that one more kiss and you’ll totally cave in. 

It shouldn’t be a problem since you know that he wants you just as you want him. The hard thing poking at your thigh is enough proof. 

But what happens if morning comes and he wakes up regretting his inebriated urges? He might not be batshit drunk anymore but alcohol is still running through him. If not, he wouldn’t be openly flirting with you. 

What about you? What will be your excuse if the sun rises and he asks why you went along with his intoxicated whims?

None.

You’ll be held responsible for leading him to dance the devil’s tango when he’s not capable of consenting to it with a straight head. You don’t want that. You don’t want to see disgust and regret splashed on his face in the morning, not when you terribly enjoy his kisses and touch.

So you softly push him away. “I’ll sleep beside you, Tsukishima. That’s all I’ll do,” you say with your head down and palms flat on his chest.

“Okay,” he obliges right after you said it. “Do you want me to turn away from you?”

Your eyes shoot up and meet his somber golden ones. “N-no. It’s fine. I’ll do it,” you stammer as you shift your position so your back is facing him. You take a while before you feel your heartbeat getting steady again as the temptation dwindles down. 

You’re about to close your eyes when a gentle hand lands on your shoulder.

“Can I hold you like this?” he asks, his voice a bit farther than it was a while ago. You can tell that he’s maintaining his distance this time. 

“Just like this,” he reiterates with his hand squeezing your shoulder to let you know that his hand won’t drift anywhere else. 

You shut your eyes with a faint smile on your lips. You place a hand over his and give it a light squeeze as you murmur, “Yeah.” 

Your hand starts to slip down when tonight’s events offer you a last surprise. As your hand glides down while you’re starting to drift off to sleep, he laces his fingers with yours to keep it in place. 

You hum peacefully with a gratified smile fully forming on your lips. 

You allow yourself to have this. 

What harm can come from holding hands with your tipsy blonde middle blocker?

--

You wake up a bit refreshed. However, you can still feel the aftermath of Tsukki’s heavy figure slouched on your shoulder last night, or was it morning already? You try to massage your shoulder but as you move your hand, you feel someone else’s intertwined with it.

You press your lips together to prevent a smile when you realize that you two slept together. It’s nothing. You shouldn’t be smiling because of it. It’s just a tiny gesture of reassurance that things are okay between you two despite what almost happened.

You carefully untangle your fingers from him before you sit up. You glance sideways to see if you woke him up. He shuffles a bit but doesn’t seem to have been disturbed. 

You look out the window and see that the sun has barely risen, meaning you haven’t gotten enough sleep. You know it’s no use getting back to sleep since your mind is already fully awake. You wouldn’t dare get out his room but you’re parched and you need to use the restroom. 

You step out of his room and gently closes the door. After you finish using the restroom, you carefully go down their stairs. You take a peek if any of his relatives is up and are relieved when you see that their kitchen is empty. 

You saunter your way to their kitchen, remaining as quiet as you can be while you fix yourself a glass of water. 

“Morning.”

You flinch and almost drop the glass you just finished when you hear the unexpected greeting. You look at the source and see Akiteru, leaning sideways against the fridge with an amicable smile. 

“Oh!” You exhale a huge breath of relief as you put down your glass on the counter. You turn to him to greet him but when you face him, he eyes what you’re wearing. You follow his gaze and realize that you’re wearing Tsukki’s clothes. 

‘It’s not what you think,’ is what you want to say, but you already said that at the stairs. If you repeat it again, you’d seem more defensive than you already were. But how else would you explain yourself?

You look at him with pleading eyes and a weary smile. “I swear, it’s really not what it looks like,” you insist weakly. “I just had nothing to wear,” you add to your defense. Akiteru laughs and waves his hand considerately.

“Don’t worry! I believe you, y/n,” he says with his honest, kind smile. “It’s a bit early for you to be up though,” he remarks. 

“Yeah. My mind is all...” You hover your hands on both sides of your head and shake them while you roll your eyes inanely. 

He chuckles from the antic you didn’t even realize you did. “Wanna chat for a bit? Since you’re all,” he imitates what you did with your head but quelled and contained. 

You smile from how pleasant he is despite teasing you so much for taking care of his brother. “Sure,” you answer kindly. 

He walks towards their dining table and offers you a seat. You follow curtly and sit across him. He regards you decorously, making you feel at ease even though he’s practically a stranger.

“I have to ask, y/n. There’s really nothing between you and Kei?” he asks genuinely. You can tell that he’s looking out for his younger brother, hence the straightforward question. 

You shake your head with a courteous smile. “Nothing. I don’t know if you know, Aki-san, but I’m also his manager.”

His eyes widen.

“You’re the Sendai Frogs’ manager?”

He’s seen Kei’s games but didn’t really have the chance to meet those who stayed on the bench. In one game he has watched, he heard some people beside him saying how blessed the Frogs are for having a ‘hot’ pair of coach and manager. Although he glanced very briefly because of his curiosity, he didn’t really see much of said pair for he was too far away in the stands. You beam proudly at him as you nod, confirming that the other half of the duo is indeed as lovely as the rumors he heard. “For three years now.”

Akiteru scans your face and can’t help but feel like he’s misjudged you a bit. He thought you’re a university student who likes going out and enjoys the most out of college life. He didn’t think you’d be working as a manager for a team. “I was just making sure he got home okay because we need him for practice. The next game is already next week.”

“Isn’t it tough to be his manager?” he asks, curious about what you think of Kei as an athlete. 

“Not really. I like everyone in the team. To be honest though, he was a real pain in the a-” you cut yourself off and clear your throat. You must have realized that you’re talking to him, Kei’s older brother. Although, he wouldn’t really mind if you continue what you were about to say. It amuses him actually. 

“What I mean to say was he was a bit difficult at first. But over time, I got used to him and actually found him nice to have in the team. He’s very smart and very disciplined. Even if he’s apathetic and sarcastic at times, I know he loves being part of the Frogs,” you explain.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says truthfully as he sees that you’re fond of Kei when your eyes shimmer a bit brighter when you talk about his brother. 

“Sometimes people misunderstand him because he acts detached. The truth is when he starts caring about something, he cares deeply. That’s why he has that cool, uncaring facade,” he adds as he stares at the surface of the table. 

When he raises his gaze to you, you look a bit mystified. 

“I’m sorry! I rambled a bit there, didn’t I?” he laughs tensely. 

You smile graciously and wave your palms. “No! It’s fine. I just wasn’t sure why you’re telling me this,” you admit with an apprehensive simper. 

He grins warmheartedly. “I just felt like sharing,” he answers even though the real reason is because he’s convinced his brother likes you too and you might need to know that aspect of him.

Kei wouldn’t have allowed you to take him home no matter how drunk he is if he isn’t comfortable with you. The entertaining exchange you three had on the stairs was another clue. Lastly, Kei let you sleep in his room and you’re even wearing his clothes.

“Has he always been like that?” you ask. 

“Not really,” his smile fades, for he knows that he’s a big factor why Kei is extremely apprehensive of getting too passionate about something. He brushes it off and continues, “But he’s always had that sarcasm ever since he was little.”

You giggle at his answer. “Why am I not surprised?” you say amusedly before your eyes wander to the window. 

“The sun’s up,” you announce softly. “I should go back to Tsukki’s room. I need to change and leave soon so I can attend my earliest class.”

“Of course! Thanks for the small chat, y/n,” he says dearly.

“Any time, Aki-san,” you respond buoyantly then stand up. Instead of going back to Kei’s room, you head to the fridge and get a bottle of water. 

“He’ll probably be thirsty as f… hell when he wakes up,” you explain, receptive of Kei’s condition even though his drunk brother must have given you a hard time last night. You bow thoughtfully then head up. 

He watches you get back upstairs, careful not to make so much sound from your steps since it’s still early. Then he walks to the kitchen to get him some coffee while thinking how well you suit his younger brother. Part 6 || Part 8 || masterlist taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai  @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu @expectonothinfromme @finnydraws @namelessidentity @hqbeesun @yatoatyourservice @mrkozume @suzuyamitsuki @celestialarchiveshq @yongboxerrr @gomenpudding @kutiekoge @fizzfrick @flamingosis @korean-bbq @ihaterainbowsprinkles @red-lint @backtonormalthings @borpcorp @lonelyheartxn @venomouscreatures @lucyrocks86 @shawtiie @honestlysora​

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima smut #tsukishima kei #haikyuu x reader

[valdomarx]

Anon requested: Person A thinks that a proposal would be a great way to get out of a jam. Person B thinks it is a sincere proposal and accepts. Realizing it wasn't done from a genuine place leads to some upset.

In Jaskier’s defence, it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Marry me, Geralt!” he called, jogging over to his witcher, a little out of breath.

Geralt’s face pinched into something cross and Jaskier was sure he was about to be told to fuck entirely off.

“It’s the Belleteyn festival tonight,” he explained quickly. “I might have, erm, sown my seed a little more widely than would be advisable in the town.” Geralt scowled. “And there may have been some, ahem, threats against my person made by the local lord.“ Geralt’s scowl deepened. “But we can smooth it all over if we’re wed tonight. There’s some local custom -- forgiveness of past indiscretions for newly married couples on May Eve.“

Geralt was still glowering but he hadn’t said no yet. Jaskier pulled out his strongest move: He ducked his head, looked up at Geralt from under his lashes, and licked his lips. Geralt’s eyes followed the movement of his tongue almost imperceptibly.

“So marry me? Here. Tonight.”

.

It had been a lovely ceremony, as fake weddings go. There had been music and wine, dancing and merriment, and Geralt even allowed some of the local girls to braid flowers into his hair.

They’d only had enough coin for one ring, a simple silver band, so Jaskier had taken that and he’d given Geralt his father’s signet ring. He’d never have parted with it for anyone else, but it was Geralt. He knew without question he would keep it safe until this ruse was over with.

Perhaps there really was something magical in the air at that time of year, or maybe it was an evening spent at an increasingly raunchy celebration that did it. But after the festivities were over and the townsfolk returned to their homes, Geralt took Jaskier back to their campsite in the woods, laid him down on a bedroll with indescribable tenderness, and fucked him within an inch of his life.

It was everything Jaskier had been quietly fantasising about for years, except more because it was Geralt and even Jaskier’s profoundly vivid imagination couldn’t match the reality of his witcher, every glorious inch of muscle straining and taut, eyes blown wide with lust, taking Jaskier apart and piecing him back together again.

.

The next morning, Jaskier woke slowly, feeling the telling ache of a night well spent. Geralt was already up, packing up camp and loading their bags onto Roach.

“There’s oatmeal in the pot if you want breakfast,” Geralt grunted. “We should get going soon.” He turned back to his work.

Right. Okay. They just... weren’t going to talk about it then. Back to business as usual.

Jaskier shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course Geralt would be as pragmatic about sex as he was about everything else. A way to get some relief, to meet a need. No expectations.

Hell, it had taken Geralt over a decade to admit they were actually friends. Jaskier felt stupid for even hoping for more.

Sleeping together had been a one time deal, it seemed. Too bad.

.

Jaskier realised he was still wearing the ring a few hours later. He should take it off, get rid of it. Maybe sell it at the next town.

He should ask Geralt for his father’s ring back too. But it seemed somehow rude to ask, too needy.

And he... well, he sort of liked catching glimpses of it decorating Geralt’s finger, like a tiny piece of Jaskier was with him wherever he went.

Jaskier found his thumb rubbing over the silver band around his own finger over and over again. It was silly, he knew, but he liked the feel of it. He would keep it for now.

.

After that, things got weird. At lunch, Geralt tried to persuade Jaskier to eat the last of the apples, as if he didn’t know their supply was running low. And at dinner, Geralt hunted and prepared two squirrels for Jaskier instead of the customary one. Jaskier would eat just about anything in a pinch, but charred rodent was not something he felt the need for seconds of.

Everywhere they went, Geralt kept trying to foist food on him. Did he think that Jaskier was weak? That he wasn't able to keep up without extra supplies? Jaskier was, admittedly, not as young as he used to be, but he thought he still measured up pretty well in the fitness department. He didn’t love the implication that he was falling short in some way.

.

At night, Geralt would lay out their bedrolls close together. Close, but never touching. When he laid down, Jaskier could feel Geralt’s breath on the back of his neck, and his chest ached with want.

He waited every night for Geralt to sneak an arm around his waist and pull him close, or to lean forward and whisper an invitation in his ear. Jaskier would be on him in a second.

But he never did, and every night Jaskier berated himself again for being so foolish and tried to push the thoughts from his mind. It was hard being so close and yet so far from what he truly wanted, but he wouldn’t force Geralt into a situation he wasn’t comfortable with.

.

After a week of this Jaskier was truly beginning to lose his mind, and it was a relief when they came upon a small town where they could rest for the night. Jaskier could go out, find some company and distract himself from the hopeless longing settled in his bones, even if only for the night.

When he announced his intention to look around the town, Geralt said he would come along too. That wasn’t ideal for Jaskier’s plan of distraction, but he’d make it work. He always enjoyed Geralt’s company anyway.

There wasn't a lot going on in the town, but there was a pretty barmaid in the tavern, a cheerful red-haired lady with exuberant freckles and strong curves. She flashed a smile at Jaskier the moment they walked in.

Perfect. He smiled back, ordered two drinks, and set to flirting outrageously with her. She giggled and teased back, not seeming intimidated by Geralt‘s presence, even though he was growing notably testier as their interactions became more charged.

When she reached over the bar to twirl a finger through Jaskier’s hair, Geralt actually growled.

She backed off and looked at Geralt. “Didn’t mean any harm,” she said. “I’m just being friendly. Unless...” She looked down at their hands on the bar, apparently noting their rings, and then back to Jaskier. “Unless you’re spoken for. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” Jaskier said with a laugh, just as Geralt said, “Yes, actually, we’re married.”

Jaskier stared at Geralt. Geralt stared at Jaskier. The barmaid held her hands up in the universal gesture for “none of my business, nothing to see here” and backed away to wipe down a table.

Every muscle in Geralt’s neck was tense and throbbing, and Jaskier had no idea what to say.

“Geralt,” he began, carefully. “is this about the other day? The ceremony? Did you... Did you think that was for real?”

Something pained flashed across Geralt’s face, an expression more raw than any Jaskier had seen on him before. Then he stood, turned, and bolted from the tavern.

“Geralt!” Jaskier called, getting to his feet. “Geralt, wait!”

By the time Jaskier was out of the door, Geralt was already disappearing down the dirt road, not turning back.

Ahh, fuck.

.

Jaskier left the girl at the tavern with a hurried apology, pausing only to throw their various possessions into bags and to load up Roach before heading out after Geralt. He knew bugger all about tracking, but he knew the direction Geralt was heading, and after that he relied on Roach’s instincts. She at least seemed confident in what to do.

He caught up to Geralt less than a mile outside of town. He was sat alone in a copse of trees just off the road, staring at the leaves.

He didn’t flee as Jaskier approached, though he didn’t turn to look at him either. “Geralt? I’m sorry. I was thoughtless. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Geralt stood slowly and turned to face him, though he avoided making eye contact. “It was a misunderstanding.” Geralt’s face was carefully blank, a look Jaskier recognised from times he was trying very hard to hide his emotions. “A wrong assumption on my part about the seriousness of the ceremony at Belleteyn.”

“Holy hell, Geralt.” Jaskier’s mind reeled. Geralt thought they had really been getting married, and he had been okay with that? “Does that mean... Would you actually want to be married to me?”

“It was stupid,” Geralt gritted out. Anyone else would have thought he was angry, but Jaskier knew him well enough to see he was hurt. “To think it was anything more than a distraction.”

No no no, that wasn’t right at all. Jaskier tried to take Geralt’s chin in his hand but Geralt turned his face forcefully away.

“Is that why you’ve been acting strange?” Jaskier thought back on it: the gifts of food, the aborted attempts at closeness, the feeling Geralt’s eyes on him constantly, checking his well-being.

“I thought...” Geralt wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I thought you wanted things to be normal. Like they always were.”

“If I were married to you for real, I wouldn’t act like everything was normal!” Jaskier exploded. “Damn it, Geralt. I’d kiss you every morning and hold you every night. And I’d tell everyone we met -- everyone -- that I was the luckiest person on the continent, because this is my husband, the one and only Geralt of Rivia, and he’s the best man I’ve ever met.”

Jaskier shut his mouth. Too late, though. Too late to take any of that back.

Geralt’s brow was pinched, though it didn’t quite look like a frown. It almost made him look thoughtful.

Finally he looked at Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “Every morning?”

Jaskier felt all the fight leaving his body in one grand sweep. Geralt let him push him to his knees on the ground and allowed Jaskier to flop into his lap. Jaskier brushed a strand of hair from his face. “I’ve thought about kissing you every day for years,” Jaskier confessed.

And then he saw it -- one of Geralt’s oh-so-rare smiles. Not the forced grimace he adopted when he needed to look nonthreatening, or the tolerant lip twitch he’d give Jaskier when he was trying to be funny. No, this was a genuine Geralt smile, more precious than gemstones, the kind that lifted his entire face and reached his eyes.

Geralt threaded a hand into the back of his hair, brought their faces closer, and kissed him. At the touch of their lips every part of him went boneless, held up only by Geralt’s arms and a determination to make as much bodily contact as he possibly could.

His head was spinning by the time they pulled apart for air. Geralt’s eyes were sparkling, and Jaskier could have lost himself in that sight for the rest of his life and considered himself a lucky man.

Geralt leaned their foreheads together. “Will you stay with me?” he asked, very quietly. “Even if all I can offer you is charred squirrel and sleeping beneath the stars?”

“Always,” Jaskier promised, without a shadow of a doubt. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Through the good and the bad, the injuries and the pain, the plenty and the lean times. Through it all, he wanted to be with Geralt.

Jaskier took Geralt’s hand in his and slotted their fingers together. Their rings lay next to each other, the elaborate gold of Jaskier’s crest shining against Geralt’s pale skin and the smooth silver encircling his own finger like an embrace.

It was all startlingly clear. “Marry me, Geralt,” he said, his heart welling over. “For real this time.”

#as usual roach is holding the brain cell #geraskier #the witcher #my writing