#throwing from home would be a whole other ball game

[emeritusemeritus]

Fred Weasley headcanons

Just a few personal headcanons for our man, NSFW under the cut 🌹

SFW ✨

Still considers you his best friend even though you’re together now (you and George being tied in first place).

Calls you princess and sweetheart (both of which started as sarcastic remarks that stuck around and are now used as endearments).

Always ready to kiss you. Doesn’t care who’s around, once he can be open about your relationship he’ll kiss you anywhere, and passionately - except for in front of his mother.

Actual menace at school. You’re walking to your next class and you pass him in the halls? He lifts you up and spins you, shouts out your name across crowded, echoing corridors to embarrass you. One time he lifted you up onto the stone pillars outside charms and left you there. You had to wait to be rescued by Ron who was luckily passing by.

You tease each other constantly, bantering back and forth. He’s heard more ginger jokes from you than anyone else in his life, but he knows just how much you love him and his red hair so there is never any malice behind it, the same with his teasing of you. It all comes from a place of love and familiarity.

He’s a natural prankster and takes great pride in it but he knows your limits and would never intentionally cross them. One time he did inadvertently go too far and he’s apologised profusely and had been torn up about it, trying to win back your trust in anyway he could. George still says that it’s the only time he’d seen Fred be actually remorseful in his life.

Throws notes to you in study hall, usually by scrunching up large balls of parchment and throwing them directly at you, bonus points if he manages to bounce them off of your head. Always followed by a sickly sweet smile or a wink.

As much as he teases you, he’s the only one truly allowed to (even George is warned sometimes).

LOVES seeing you wear his clothes, specifically his jumpers or his old quidditch T-shirt’s that you sleep in. It makes his little possessive brain twitch seeing you wear his clothes so openly in front of the whole school, declaring that you’re his.

Looks for you at every one of his Quidditch games- it gives him a boost of confidence to know that you’re cheering for him. Wanting to impress you, he always plays harder and better, putting on a show.

The first time you’d attended a quidditch game as his official girlfriend, you had worn his green ‘F’ jumper and he nearly fell off his broom once he’d realised.

He’s incredibly supportive as a friend and boyfriend. Even though he knows that he is seen as the ‘meaner’ twin, he has a true sweetness to him that most people overlook but he’d do anything for you and his friends, even at great personal risk. He supports you in everything you want to do and always looks after you if you get stressed or disheartened whilst chasing your dreams.

He’s especially protective of Ginny, taking his role of older brother very seriously. He still says that he fell truly in love with you the moment he saw you running up and confronting Malfoy, who had been teasing Ginny after the whole Chamber of Secrets event. Upon seeing the commotion, Fred had run to help her, followed closely by George, but you had gotten there first and had verbally berated the bully before punching him square in the nose. You then pulled Ginny away, cast your arm around her protectively and had begun escorting her back to the common room even though you were originally going the other way. Only when you had met up with Fred and George did you eventually leave her and go to your destination, making sure that she was comfortable and safe with her brothers before leaving. You’d received a letter home and detention for three weeks for punching Malfoy and another late night detention for being late to class but you still maintained that it was worth it.

Will throw hands without a second thought at anyone who disrespects you. He’s incredibly protective and won’t hesitate to throw a punch at anyone who violates your boundaries. Minimal offences still demand punishment and it’s common for anyone who crosses you to suspiciously find themselves with boils, purple hair or spontaneously vomiting the next day.

He’s surprisingly needy in private and loves to cuddle. Loves having his hair stroked and played with. Always has to be touching you in some way, even just your feet touching in bed or a hand absently placed on your hip.

Cannot cook to save his life, even with the assistance of magic.

He LOVES being a twin but he’s actually terrified of having twins once you start trying for a baby.

NSFW🌹

Will try anything once. Fact.

He’s a master with his fingers. He knew how much you loved his hands even before you were together, having caught you staring at them multiple times. They’re long, thin and incredibly skilled.

Makes it his personal mission in life to learn every single one of your pleasure points and can anticipate your every reaction just by the sounds you make, having learnt each and every one.

Had a definite breeding kink but doesn’t actually want kids yet. The idea of knocking you up and seeing you pregnant makes him harder than he ever thought possible. It’s his dirty little secret.

Dirty talk champ- he knows how much you love his voice and how much it gets you off when he whispers absolute filth to you in the middle of sex but it absolutely riles him up too. It’s less of a calculated dialogue and more of a dirty, running commentary on how well he’s fucking you.

Big fan of quickies. He’ll literally fuck you anywhere if the mood arises, which is always. As much as he loves to tease you and make you wait, savouring your body, there’s nothing like a quick, hard fuck in his book.

Definite size kink. He’s 6ft 3 and you are definitely not. Along with this comes a specific show of dominance, his height making him tower over you which makes him feel powerful and in control.

Although it depends on the overall mood, he’s mostly still playful and teasing even during sex, as are you. Occasionally you will try and throw each other off their game. One time you purposefully moaned out Snape’s name to throw him off and it caused a three minute intermission as you both had to stop and laugh. He then swiftly pulled out of you, spanked you and then proceeded to fuck you harder as ‘punishment’ for moaning another man’s name.

He’s absolutely feral for you wearing skirts.

He likes the idea of public sex but after you were both once accidentally caught by George, he decided that he hated the thought of anyone but him seeing you like that and put an end to your more risky escapades. Semi-public is still fine, of course.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Youth Team

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The final of the Under-17 Euros

Your call-up to join Denmark's Under-17 team comes on a random Wednesday.

You're freshly fifteen and have just gotten back from practice, throwing your hair up into a ponytail and shoving your dirty keeper gloves into the washing machine.

"I'm home!"

You don't really expect anyone to answer but Momma appears in front of you in an instant, a phone tucked under her ear.

"It's for you," She says and you take it in confusion - unsure of who would call your Momma instead of just you.

"Hello?"

"Is this y/n?" The voice on the other line asks. It's a little weird hearing someone call you by your name like that. Your mothers never outgrew calling you your childhood nickname and everyone at training just called you by your last name.

"Er...Yes?"

You can hear their smile down the phone and something unknown stirs within you.

"I'm calling on behalf of Denmark's Under Seventeen Squad. We'd be delighted to have you join us at camp this year."

You're speechless for a moment, eyes wide in shock as you look at Momma, who is smiling and nodding at you.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'd love to come!"

"Excellent. Details will be sent to your mothers and we look forward to seeing you at Viborg soon."

That was months ago now and, as you slip into your kit, you can't help but think back on it. You're still fifteen, one of the youngest on the squad but you've still managed to clinch the first keeper position from your sixteen-year-old counterpart.

You're up against Germany (but everybody already knew that you would be, they'd been on a winning streak since before you were born) and you take the time before kick-off to take steadying breaths.

Eriksson-Harder is on the back of your jersey. It was a small consolation prize for Morsa, putting her last name first on your back after you chose Denmark over Sweden for the youth teams. Sweden had called too, only several hours too late and you had to reject their offer in favour of Denmark.

Morsa had been a bit miffed but after you promised to put her name first, she was placated (if only for a moment before she arrogantly reminded Momma that you had all the time in the world to choose Sweden's senior team).

"Alright there?" One of your teammates asks as you ready yourself to walk out.

"Peachy," You say sarcastically," Just..." You shrug. "At least try to keep them from getting close enough to shoot?"

She laughs. "It's Germany. I don't think we get that luxury."

She's right because most of the match is spent viciously defending your clean sheet.

You jump.

You dive.

You punch.

You do everything in your power to keep the German goals from taking this from you.

"Come on!" You yell in triumph as you narrowly grab onto the ball. The speed at which it came at you nearly winds you but you recover quickly, kicking it quickly to one of your defenders to send it further up the pitch. "Come at me!"

It's a vicious game and your whole uniform is dirty and raked with mud from the amount of times that you have dived to the ground to stop the ball.

It all comes to a head though when the ninety minutes are up and neither team has scored.

Penalties.

You despise penalties with all your heart (although you're incredibly skilled at them). They're the bane of your existence (but at this point, you don't know that you'll never let one in throughout your entire career). It's made even worse when Denmark starts it off. The ball tips out of target.

You step up.

Shot.

Deflect.

It goes on for a few excruciating rounds. None of your penalty takers seem to be able to score and you're left to make sure that Germany can't either.

Shot.

Deflect.

Shot.

Deflect.

Shot.

Deflect.

Finally though, on the fifth kick, your captain manages to just squeeze one past Germany's keeper and you're left to make sure it stays that way.

If this next ball goes through, it's more penalties.

If not...Well you knew what happened if it didn't go in.

You bounce on your feet, gloves up and ready as Germany's captain readies herself.

She looks like she's aiming right.

The crowd is silent.

She kicks the ball.

You move left...

And catch the ball in your hands easily.

The stadium erupts.

You scream. Your team mobs you and suddenly everyone is talking over each other and laughing and crying and screaming their joy for everyone to see.

You break from the group, still clutching the ball in your hands as you run to the crowd.

To Momma and Morsa.

Tears are spilling down your cheeks as you hop the railing and crash into their arms.

You're not quite sure who's at your front and who's at your back but you just know that Morsa and Momma are here and they're holding you and you've just won the Under-17 Euros.

You're still crying as you pull away to see Momma's the one in front of you. She's crying too, cupping your face and raining kisses on your forehead.

"You did so well, princesse." Morsa's still holding you from behind. "So well. We're so proud of you."

"Denmark's first goalkeeper," Momma says," Winning on penalties."

You grin, your tears having run dry even as you're still overwhelmed by emotions. "So you think I'll stay first keeper?"

Morsa laughs from behind you and you turn around to face her, seeing the pride shining in her eyes. "Definitely. Although, hopefully, you won't stick with Denmark."

"I don't know," Momma teases," She's just won her first Euros. I'd say that staying with Denmark might be her good luck charm."

"She's going to be good enough not to need luck."

You have to break away from them to collect your medal and have a little hold of the trophy but you head straight back.

You take off your medal as soon as you reach them and place it around Momma's neck.

"There'll be more," You promise her and Morsa," There'll be so many more."

[struwberrii]

haikyuu!! halloween headcanons ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.

i know it’s july, i just love halloween time and it’s basically around the corner now that i think about it :3 but anywho here are some of my silly headcanons of what costumes/activities the haikyuu characters would do on halloween ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

characters: tsuki, kuroo, bokuto, sugawara, semi, osamu

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

tsukishima

probably thinks halloween is lame and doesn’t want to participate but i feel like you could convince him

at MOST he might put on some face paint or animal ears

would rather stay in and watch scary movies

probably randomly starts ranting about how halloween is a capitalist holiday or something

buys a huge bag of candy but only eats all the strawberry starburst and leaves the rest for you

when you’re at a suspenseful part of the movie he screams just to scare you

makes fun of all the people in bad costumes passing by his house with you

kuroo

has the ugliest costume ideas ever

bro is pulling up to the function as papa smurf

i know he’d be such a huge halloween fan

he lets you paint him blue 😭

probably invites you to a festival or party

takes 1000 pics of your night together

offers to carry your candy and literally just starts eating yours instead of his

tells scary stories all night and ends up scaring both of you guys

constantly talking about how good you look, bro is a sweetie pie

eats so much candy and goes home with a stomach ache

bokuto

i feel like he’d like halloween because he’d like dressing up but at the same time he would literally just wear any costume

i feel like his costume would also be really low budget and last minute but still cute

imagine bokuto as finn from adventure time ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

challenges you to see who can get more candy but somehow loses (eats) most of his candy by the end of the night

participated in every festival activity, like he is NOT playing about that sac race

i also feel like he might participate to be the person that sits in that dunk tank while people try to throw a ball at the target and make them fall yk?

someone gave him raisins and he was genuinely distraught

makes akaashi go to booths he already visited so he can get more candy (they stopped giving it out to him)

sugawara

he does NOT play about his halloween costumes

imagine suga as mr fox from fantastic mr fox :3

would probably make a million silly tiktok’s

also participates in every festival activity

he’s the one who hits the target and dunks bokuto into the water tank

offers you a bunch of his candy and then says you guys shouldn’t eat it because it’s bad for you

also eats like 3 caramel apples in that same breath

wants to end the night watching a horror movie and also jump scares you during suspenseful moments

semi

would probably throw a party and invite you ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

probably just does cool skeleton face paint or something

plays the best music and has the best food

dedicates like half of his whole night to scaring you and gets tendou to help

leaves someone else in charge of the party while you two sneak off to his room with a bunch of snacks and drinks

maybe he even plays a song on guitar for you :o

he puts on a genuinely scary movie that has both of you in tears 😭

osamu

forgot to get a costume so he went as atsumu 😭

invites you to a halloween festival with him, not because he likes them but just to hang out with you and some of his friends

he and atsumu keep challenging each other at games and they both keep winning stuff

wins so many prizes at the booths and gives all of them to you

i feel like he’d only eat the twix bars he gets and no other candy

he’d probably want to leave the festival early bc he got bored

gets you guys junk food on the way home bc he’s tired

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Family Bbq.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - hi everyone! after taking a couple of weeks off im so happy to be back and creating content for you all it truly is my happy place. thank you to everyone who reached out it truly meant a lot. so as a thank you present have this. fyi, even though we don’t know gemmas daughters name, for the purposes of this fic she is named willow. ☺️

word count - 2.2k

in which, with a rare day of sunshine in london, harry and the missus decide to throw a little bbq where all of the close family are invited, drinks are spilled, games a played and memories are created that last a life time.

The rare sight of sunshine streams through your London window, bringing a smile to your lips.

Harry, always the planner, had seen the forecast and organised a family BBQ. He invited his family to stay for a few days, eager to make the most of the bright weather.

In the kitchen, you’re busy getting everything ready.

The countertops are filled with fresh ingredients, and the delicious aroma of marinating meat fills the air.

Since you told your two-year-old son, Jaxon, that his Nana would be coming, he’s been running around the house chanting “Nana’s coming!” with infectious excitement.

The sound of his little feet pattering around and his joyous cries fill your home, adding to the warmth of the sunny days ahead.

As you chop vegetables and prepare the grill, you can’t help but feel the anticipation building, knowing these days will be special with family together and the rare London sunshine.

Harry’s currently in the shower, whilst Jaxon plays in his ball out in front of you whilst coco-melon plays on the tv, his eyes hooked onto the dancing fruits.

You’re chopping vegetables when, about ten minutes later, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

The familiar tattoos lining the left arm and the scent of his aftershave make you smile. His damp hair from his shower brushes against the back of your neck as he leans his head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Need any help?” Harry murmurs, his voice warm and comforting.

“Everything’s almost ready,,” you reply with a grin, leaning back into his embrace.

He chuckles softly, his breath tickling your ear. “It smells delicious.”

As you continue preparing, Harry’s arms remain around you, a comforting presence. The anticipation of a family gathering and the promise of sunshine create a perfect blend of happiness, making these days feel all the more special.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Jaxon’s head pops up from the ball pit he’s been playing in, his eyes wide with excitement. Both you and Harry can’t help but laugh at the adorable sight.

“Nana?” Jaxon asks, his voice filled with hope.

Harry releases you and walks toward the door. He peeks out the windows next to it and smiles. “It is Nana, and more,” he announces, turning the knob and swinging the door open.

On the other side stands his mother, Anne, along with his sister Gemma, her boyfriend Michal, and their five-month-old daughter, Willow. The whole group beams as Harry steps forward to greet them. He hugs each one tightly, pressing a tender kiss to Willow’s head, making her giggle softly.

“Hey, come on in.”Harry exclaims, joy evident in his voice.

Jaxon, unable to contain his excitement, bolts from the ball pit and runs straight into Anne’s arms. She scoops him up, holding him close, their bond palpable and heartwarming.

“Hewwo, Nana!” Jaxon squeals, his face lighting up.

“Hello, my little love!” Anne says, her voice full of affection.

“Nana, you came!” Jaxon continues, clinging to her.

“Of course I did, darling. I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Anne replies, kissing his forehead.

Gemma steps forward, hugging you warmly. “The weather’s perfect for this, isn’t it?” she says with a smile.

“Absolutely,” you agree, glancing outside at the bright, sunny day. “H has been planning this for days.”

Michal, carrying Willow, joins the conversation. “Smells amazing in here. What’s cooking?”

“Just getting everything ready for the BBQ,” you say, pointing to the countertops filled with food. “Make yourselves at home. We’ve got plenty of time to catch up.”

A little while later, the garden is filled with the mouthwatering aroma of food cooking on the BBQ.

Harry and Michal take turns at the grill, and currently, it’s Michal’s turn to cook the burgers. He flips them with ease, the sizzle a satisfying sound in the warm afternoon air.

Nearby, Harry is playing bean bag toss with Jaxon. Anne sits on the grass next to them with Willow on her lap, gently bouncing her and cooing softly.

“Come on, Jax, y’can do it!” Harry encourages, handing Jaxon a bean bag.

“I Fwrow it, Dada!” Jaxon giggles, his small hands gripping the bean bag tightly before tossing it with all his might. The bean bag lands just shy of the target, and Jaxon laughs in delight.

“Almost there, buddy! One more try,” Harry says, clapping his hands.

Anne watches them with a smile.

“You’re getting so good at this, Jax,” she praises, her eyes twinkling with pride.

“Tank you, Nana!” Jaxon replies, beaming up at her.

Willow gurgles happily on Anne’s lap, her tiny hands reaching out to grab at the grass. Anne chuckles, adjusting Willow’s sunhat. “You’re having fun too, aren’t you, little one?”

Michal calls out from the grill, “Burgers are almost ready! Who’s hungry?”

“I am!” Jaxon shouts excitedly, dropping his bean bag and running toward the BBQ.

“Hold on, buddy. S’wait until they’re off the grill,” Harry says, following him and lifting him up so he can see the burgers cooking. “See how they’re sizzling? That means they’re almost done.”

“Mmm, smells so good, Dada,” Jaxon says, wrinkling his nose in delight.

You and Gemma were sat around the pool in the garden, sitting on some sun loungers.

“So, how’s everything going with you?” you ask, adjusting your sunhat.

Gemma sighs contentedly. “It’s been a busy few months. Between work and looking after Willow, things are non-stop. But it’s all good.”

“I can imagine,” you say, nodding sympathetically. “How’s Michal handling everything?”

“He’s been fantastic,” Gemma replies, smiling. “He’s really stepped up with Willow. It’s been a bit of a juggling act, but we’re managing.”

“That’s great to hear,” you say. “It must be nice to have some help. How’s Willow adjusting?”

“She’s doing well,” Gemma says. “She’s growing so fast and is quite the little explorer already. Every day is something new with her.”

“I bet,” you say, smiling. “I remember when Jax was her age, it goes by so fast honestly, and he loves having her around. He’s always so excited to see her.”

“It’s sweet seeing them together,” Gemma agrees. “They’re already forming quite the bond.”

“Definitely,” you say. “It’s wonderful to have family moments like this. I’ve missed having everyone together.”

“Me too,” Gemma says, looking around at the garden. “It’s nice to just relax and catch up. We should make sure to do this more often.”

“Absolutely,” you reply. “These days are precious. We need to hold onto them.”

“Food’s ready, everyone!”

You and Gemma stand up from your sun loungers and make your way over to the long table set up in the garden. The table is adorned with colorful plates, fresh salads, and a variety of grilled meats.

You sit down next to Harry, who’s busy serving up the food. He places a juicy burger and a piece of grilled chicken onto your plate, making sure you have everything you need. As he leans in close, his voice drops to a seductive whisper.

“And y’can have the sausage later,” he murmurs in your ear, a playful grin on his face.

You choke on your own breath, caught off guard by his cheeky comment.

“Harry!” you gasp, trying to regain your composure as a flush spreads across your cheeks.

He chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Just teasing, love,” he says, giving your hand a quick squeeze before moving on to serve the others.

Gemma glances over with a knowing smile, shaking her head in amusement.

“You two are something else,” she says, settling into her seat.

“What would you like, prince?” you ask, smiling and making eye contact with your little one.

“Chickie and ketchup, pwease,” Jaxon replies, his eyes bright with excitement.

You nod and carefully place a piece of grilled chicken on his plate.

“Okay, sweetie, I’ll get that for you.” You then grab the ketchup bottle and add a generous dollop to his plate.

With a smile, you start cutting up the chicken into smaller pieces. “Is this good, Jax?”

He watches intently, nodding eagerly. “Yup, tank you, Mama!”

“There you go,” you say, handing him the plate. “Enjoy your food.”

Jaxon immediately dips a piece of chicken into the ketchup and takes a bite, his face lighting up with delight. “Mmm, yummy!”

You chuckle, watching him happily. “I’m glad you like it, sweetheart. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

Anne lifts her glass of wine into the air with a warm, radiant smile.

“I’d like to make a toast,” she says, her voice carrying over the chatter.

Harry and Michal each hold up a bottle of Budweiser, while you and Gemma raise your glasses of wine. Even Jaxon, sitting at his spot, holds his sippy cup of fruit juice up high.

“To family,” Anne begins, her eyes sparkling. “To sunny days like today, and to making wonderful memories together. May we always find reasons to celebrate and enjoy each other’s company.”

With that, everyone clinks their drinks together.

“Cheers!” you all echo, raising your glasses and cups in unison.

“Cheers!” Jaxon shouts, grinning from ear to ear as he clinks his sippy cup against the edge of the table.

Everyone laughs.

“So, have you been watching the new season of Below Deck lately?” Gemma muses, stabbing her fork into a bit of chicken.

Harry groans softly and mutters under his breath, “Here we go,” knowing full well how much you love the show.

You laugh, catching Harry’s comment. “Yes, I’ve been keeping up with it. The new crew is something else this season. I can’t believe some of the drama that's happening .”

Gemma nods eagerly. “I know, right? The tension between the crew is intense. And the new chief steward is so different from the last one.”

“I’ve been hooked,” you admit.

Harry, shaking his head with a playful smile, adds, “I guess it’s good to know that Below Deck keeps you entertained.”

You turn to him with a mischievous grin. “Hey, H, since you know I love the show so much, how about you take us all on a super yacht sometime? It could be our very own Below Deck experience!”

Harry laughs and shakes his head. “Sure, I’ll just add that to the list of things to do. Maybe one day we’ll make it happen.”

Your husband pulled his phone out of his pocket and made himself a reminder to inquire about it later.

It’s around three o’clock in the afternoon, and the sun is casting a warm, golden glow over the garden.

The table is still surrounded by the remnants of lunch, and the conversation has settled into a comfortable hum of relaxation.

You’re sitting with Anne, enjoying a peaceful moment as you sip your wine and chat about the latest family news.

Jaxon, having played around the garden with his father and uncle and enjoyed a hearty meal, wanders over to you with a soft, contented expression on his face.

He tugs gently at your sleeve and looks up with wide, trusting eyes.

“Mama,” he says softly, “milk pwease?”

You smile warmly at him, feeling your heart swell.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you reply. You lift him onto your lap, gently adjusting him so he’s comfortable. With a loving touch, you help him settle in, and he begins to breastfeed, his little hands resting on your arm.

Anne, recognizing the need for a bit of privacy, gives you both a tender smile and gracefully steps back, taking a seat at the far end of the table.

“I’ll give you two some space,” she says softly. “Enjoy this quiet moment.”

As Jaxon feeds, you stroke his hair and whisper soothing words to him. “You’re such a good boy, Jax. Mama loves you so much.”

He responds with a soft murmur, his eyes fluttering closed as he begins to relax.

“Luv you, Mama,” he murmurs, his voice growing quieter.

You continue to talk to him gently, your words flowing like a comforting lullaby.

“I’m so glad we’re spending this day together. Look at how happy everyone is. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

Jaxon nods slowly, his tiny frame snuggling closer to you.

“Yup,” he whispers, his breathing steady and calm.

Harry, having finished chatting with Michal and Gemma, notices the peaceful scene and walks over. He carefully lowers himself into the seat next to you, glancing at the two of you with a soft, affectionate smile.

“How’s my little guy doing?” he asks quietly, trying not to disturb the moment.

You look up at him with a warm smile. “He’s doing great. Just enjoying a quiet moment with Mama.”

Harry reaches over and gently strokes Jaxon’s head, his touch tender and loving. “He looks so peaceful. S’moments like these that make everything worth it.”

You nod in agreement, your heart full. “Absolutely. It’s these simple, quiet moments that mean the most.”

Jaxon stirs slightly but doesn’t fully wake, his contented sighs the only indication of his presence. You continue to hold him close, enjoying the closeness and the gentle rhythm of his breathing.

Harry leans back in his chair, watching with a fond expression. “M’glad we could all be together today. S’been perfect.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” you say softly, looking at him with love. “It’s days like this that remind me of how lucky we are.”

[azzifudd]

possession

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: four times paige & azzi knew they belonged to each other

rated: teen

2.5k words

disclaimer: many made up events obviously

[AO3 LINK]

The ball swishes through the net, nearly soundless in the empty gym. Azzi has been taking shots for the past three minutes. She hasn’t missed yet.

She had arrived at the UConn campus only 15 minutes ago, to surprise Paige for her birthday, and after nearly five minutes of hugging, that Azzi is sure Paige would’ve turned into more if her parents hadn’t been there, she had been dragged to the gym where the other girls were in recovery after a strenuous practice.

Paige had left her in the gym, promising to be back soon with the others, and Azzi had picked up a ball to pass the time. As she takes another jumpshot, one of the doors bangs open and she flinches. Her shot goes wide, bouncing off the back of the rim.

Two boys have entered the gym, and Azzi vaguely recognizes them. One of them rebounds her ball and brings it over to her.

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Andre. I’m on the men’s basketball team.”

She’s heard Paige mention him once or twice.

“Y’know if you want any pointers with your jumper, I could help you out.” His eyes run over her, from head to toe.

“What’s your name?” He asks, overeager.

“Azzi,” she replies, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Dude, that’s Azzi. Bueckers’ girl.” His friend has come up beside them, after hearing Azzi introduce herself.

Azzi feels a flush overtake her entire body. Part of her almost wants to be offended that this boy, on one of the top college teams in the nation, didn’t recognize her. She’s the number one high school player in the nation, and it’s not even close. But another part of her, a bigger part of her, loves that so many miles away from home, a complete stranger hears her name and knows she’s Paige’s.

“Oh shit, you’re Paige’s Azzi. Azzi Fudd!” Andre covers his mouth and groans. “I was trying to teach you how to shoot.”

His teammate cackles beside him, slapping him on the back. “She’s been in three point contests with Steph Curry, my guy, I think she’s good.”

“Damn, that’s embarrassing. I’m so sorry.”

She smiles up at him, now charmed by the whole thing. “It’s cool, I didn’t know who you were either.”

“Oh! She got your ass.” His friend laughs again before turning to her and introducing himself. “I’m James.”

“Azzi.” They shake hands.

“Like I said, I know. PB does not shut up about you.” He does a quick dribble behind his back before pulling up into a smooth jump shot that swishes through the net. “We’ll be shooting around after practice and it’s ‘Oh, Azzi never would have missed that shot. She’s the hardest worker I know.”

“You shoulda seen her a few months ago. Always tapping away on that iPad, putting together clips.”

Azzi remembers the video that Paige had so proudly shown to her family. How silly, and sweet, and how Paige it had been. It makes Azzi even more excited for dinner tonight, where she will finally get to tell Paige that she is committing to UConn.

The door pushes open again, and this time it’s Paige who rushes over to them, throwing an arm around Azzi’s neck.

“Hey, these losers bothering you?” Paige asks, laughter clear in her voice. But Azzi knows that it would only take one word from her to set her off if Azzi asked.

“No, they’ve been cool,” she says.

“Well, Coach heard you were here and wanted to say hi. See you guys later.” Paige leads Azzi deeper into the facility.

And if they’re a little late to meet everyone because Azzi pulls Paige into a secluded broom closet for some alone time, no one needs to know but them.

//

Azzi’s sprinting around the top of the court, rounding one screen and then another, trying desperately to get open. She’s open for a split second, and that’s all it takes for Paige to hit her with the pitch perfect pass. She rises to take the three that could tie the game when a body barrels into her legs.

She hits the floor hard. A whistle blows as the referee calls what Azzi hopes is a shooting foul. She stays on the floor for a moment longer, catching her breath, when suddenly the arena erupts in noise.

Whistles blow, and she finally looks up to see a furious Paige being pulled back by their teammates as one of the referees signals a technical foul. She is spitting furiously at an opposing player. Nika is at her side, simultaneously holding her back from causing more trouble for them and firing Croatian insults at the other team.

Azzi won’t find out until someone shows her the footage after the game, but Paige had stormed over the moment she was fouled and had pushed the offending player with two hands to the chest.

The referee points off the court. Paige has been ejected.

Coach has run over, screaming as the officials struggle to get everything under control. Aaliyah runs over to help Azzi up.

“Paige! Get your ass over here, now!” Geno’s voice somehow booms over the raucous Gampel crowd.

Paige throws her arms up, shrugging their teammates off of her. Satisfied that she has calmed down, everyone begins to back off. But instead of heading off the court like she’s supposed to, she makes a beeline for Azzi, who is still slightly shaken but standing.

Paige raises a hand as if to touch Azzi’s face, but she stops, recognizing where they are. She rests the hand on her shoulder instead.

“You good?” She asks, voice hoarse from shouting.

Azzi nods, still breathing hard. “Why did you do that, you idiot.” But even as she asks, she knows the answer.

Paige smiles crookedly. It is soft despite the noise around them, tender in a way Azzi knows Paige saves just for her.

“Bueckers!” Geno roars. They know if he could storm the court for her, he would have already.

“Go,” Azzi says. “I’ll see you after I win this game.”

“That’s my girl.” Paige leaves the court with a smirk on her face, cheers of her name following her.

Azzi sinks the free throws to send them to overtime. And when they end up winning by eight, even Geno can’t complain too much.

@bueckersbuckets35 it’s bullshit that paige had to apologize. they were targeting azzi all game. bet she’d do it again in a heartbeat if she had to

Paige Bueckers liked this tweet.

//

“That layup you had in the third!” Paige mimes a euro step, mimics taking a shot with her left hand. “Left hand, baby, bang!”

Hailey van Lith laughs at Paige’s antics, pushing at her playfully. “I mean, it wasn’t enough to get the win against you guys, but it’s always a good time pulling up against you.”

Even if they didn’t talk all the time, it feels like there would always be a special connection between all the girls who had played together for USA Basketball.

Hailey glances around. “How’s the wifey been? I didn’t get a chance to talk with her at the arena.”

Paige grins at that. She knows Hailey means it as a joke, that they are way too young to even think about marriage, but there is always something deeply satisfying for Paige to hear someone acknowledge that she is Azzi's and Azzi is hers.

“She’s doing aight. Her surgery went well. It’s just a shit deal y’know.” There have been plenty of tear filled nights for them both since Azzi had experienced the freak injury, but now Azzi’s ready to move forward, and Paige will be there every step of the way, like Azzi was for her.

Hailey smiles apologetically. “I was really sorry to hear about it. I remember you could never shut up about playing with her.”

“Thank you.” They both jump when Azzi pops up beside them. She gives Hailey a quick hug hello before turning to Paige.

She’s surprised when Azzi wraps her arms around her waist, tucking herself under Paige’s arm, pressing their bodies together.

They are no strangers to PDA. In fact, if Paige had her way, she would never stop touching Azzi. But the younger girl is usually more reluctant around people she doesn’t know, and with Hailey’s teammates around, it is a surprise to see her so affectionate.

Paige isn’t going to complain. She tightens her arm around Azzi’s shoulder and presses a quick kiss to her temple. She catches a whiff of alcohol on her breath. That explains the touchiness.

They chat with Hailey for a bit longer, but when Azzi begins to zone out mid convo, Paige excuses them both and walks them up to Azzi’s apartment.

“She’s so pretty.”

“Huh?” Paige pauses as she wipes the last of Azzi’s makeup from her face as they stand in the bathroom together.

“Hailey. She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Paige shrugs. “Mm, I guess so.” She moves in closer, nose pressing into Azzi’s head, breathing in the scent of her. “Let’s go to bed.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything else until they’re tucked in together in her bed.

“You were talking to her for a long time.”

“Huh?” Paige groans into the back of Azzi’s neck, already half asleep. When she finally registers the words, she replies, “Who?”

“Hailey,” she replies, like Paige should know exactly what she’s talking about.

“We were just catching up. It’s been a while.” Paige presses a kiss to the side of Azzi’s neck, ready to fall asleep.

“Do you miss playing with her?”

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Paige props herself up on her elbow, turning Azzi onto her back to face her. She softens at the look on her girl’s face.

She presses a soft kiss to the dimple in Azzi’s cheek. And then she kisses her nose, her forehead, and all over her face until she’s smiling.

“Hey,” Paige says, making sure Azzi is looking into her eyes as she speaks. “You’ll be back. Best player in the nation, baby.”

Azzi pulls her into a deep kiss that still sends Paige’s head spinning and heart racing even after they have shared so many. When they pull apart, they are both breathless.

“Me and you.” Azzi’s eyes are shining and clear.

“You and me.” Paige gives Azzi a roguish grin and lets her pull her down once more.

//

“Yo, where’s P?” KK asks, scanning the room. It’s Senior Night, and they’re all getting dressed for the game. Even Azzi has just slipped into a jersey, even though she isn’t playing tonight.

“The seniors are on the court already. I think they had to do a run through of the ceremony. Why?”

Azzi is suspicious. KK looking for Paige is always a sign of something potentially stress inducing on the way.

“Oh, no reason, I just wanna make sure I’m outta the way when Daddy Paige sees you in her jersey for the first time.” KK cackles, ducking out of the way of the towel that Azzi flings at her.

“Nah, we all know there’s no way this is the first time she’s worn it.” Ice chimes in.

“Shut up,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes, glad that the fluorescent lights hide her blush. Surprisingly, she hasn’t worn Paige’s jersey since they were in high school, and even though she’d never admit it to her teammates, she is very excited to see how Paige reacts to it.

The injured players head into the arena just before tip off. The place is packed with fans there to celebrate the players who have given their all for UConn.

Besides that though, the media presence is palpable. The entire basketball world is waiting to hear whether Paige is staying or declaring. Azzi has known for weeks that Paige has decided to stay at UConn for another season. She has unfinished business, and even if they won the title this season, her injuries have robbed her of too much time here.

Azzi feels eyes on her as soon as they get into the open. She has been linked to Paige since before they even came here, so everyone is clearly gauging her mood on such an important night. She could try to play it more coy, but she can’t fight the smile on her face when she sees Paige warming up.

She’s getting one more year with her person. One more chance to fulfill the promise they made to each other when she chose UConn. She’s so happy.

Azzi waves up into the stands where hers and Paige’s family sit together, all wearing Bueckers gear. Drew jumps up and down when she makes a heart with her hands in his direction.

She’s stepping onto the court when she feels it. Goosebumps pimple her skin and she turns to where the majority of the team is casually warming up.

Paige stands at midcourt, staring at her, slack jawed. Azzi smiles coyly at her when Paige takes a step toward her, only to be stopped by CD who is standing next to her with a clipboard and an eyeroll.

Azzi just laughs and goes to take a few shots near the others. She isn’t close to being cleared to play, but she misses it so much. Even just being on the court during game days can be emotional lately. Soon, she feels a heated presence at her back.

Azzi turns around and finds Paige standing close. Too close for such a public place, but she can’t bring herself to move. Paige runs her eyes up and down Azzi’s body, lingering on where the number five splays proudly over her chest.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You tryin’ to get me in trouble?” Paige asks, voice low.

“Just wanted to support my favorite player.” Azzi looks up at Paige from beneath her lashes, and finds those blue eyes fixated on her lips.

“She must be pretty damn good if she’s your favorite.”

Azzi watches the muscles in Paige’s arms and shoulders flex as she links her hands behind her back, stopping herself from reaching out to touch.

“She’s not bad.” Azzi smirks. “Could use some work on her shooting stroke though.”

Paige scoffs. “I’ll show you my str-”

Two arms suddenly wrap around their shoulders as KK comes barreling into them.

“K, what the hell?” Paige pushes at her as they fight to stay steady on their feet.

“Yo, mom and dad, y’all have got to tone it down.”

KK smiles at them. “Media girl is on the way for some pics and P looks like she’s about to jump you.”

Azzi flushes as they all separate.

“What would y’all do without me though, seriously.”

KK strikes a ridiculous pose, distracting the media girl so Paige and Azzi can rearrange themselves into a more platonic pose.

Azzi hopes no one can see how flustered she is when Paige whispers in her ear to keep the jersey on for after the game.

They take a few quick pictures before it’s time for tip off. It’s an easy win, everyone playing with joy and anticipation of the celebration after the game.

For a moment, Azzi feels deeply sad. She wants to be out there, next to her girls.

But then the final buzzer sounds, and Azzi watches Paige bask in the attention of the crowd who loves her almost as much as Azzi does, and forgets everything but the beaming smile on Paige’s face.

[steveseddie]

home run

steddie | rating: m | wc: 3,6k | no warnings | tags: post-season 4, love confessions, first kiss, first time, dry humping, coming in pants, car sex, or technically van sex

for week two of @softsteddieseptember “confessing your feelings” and “road trips” and week two of @steddiesmuttyseptember “backseat” and “clothes on”

read on ao3 here

Steve’s fingers tighten around the grab handle as Eddie’s van skids dangerously on the wet road. “I really think we should stop, Eddie,” Steve says, finally voicing the thought he’s been having since they got caught in the rain.

Eddie leans forward on the driver’s seat, struggling to see the road through the sheets of water slashing at the windshield, the wipers failing to keep up. 

At first, Steve thinks he didn’t hear him over the heavy pitter-pattering but then he waves dismissively at him. Steve flinches when he lets go of the wheel and the van swerves.  

“No way, Stevie, if we stop we won’t make it in time for the game!”

“If we don’t stop you’ll drive us off the road,” Steve says in a bitchy tone. “And then we won’t make it to the game either because we’ll be dead.”

Eddie groans, using a rag to wipe the fogged-up windshield. “But-”

“Pull over, Munson.”

With a defeated sigh, Eddie hits the warning lights and stirs the van to the side of the road. “As Your Majesty commands,” he says, matching Steve’s bitchy tone. 

“Hey, don’t get pissy on me,” Steve protests when Eddie kills the engine. “It’s not my fault the sky opened up on us!”

Eddie slumps into the driver’s seat, air puffing out and making his bangs flutter. “No, it’s mine.”

Steve snorts. “What? You suddenly control the weather or something?”

“No, but I made us stop for lunch and waste time and got us trapped in this fucking downpour!” Eddie crosses his arm over his chest, pouting. If Steve didn’t think Eddie would throw him out of the van for it he would lean over and pinch his cheek and call him adorable. 

“We had to stop for gas anyway,” he says instead, shrugging. 

“Yeah, but we could’ve had lunch in the van!” Eddie throws his arms up, almost hitting Steve in the face. “It’s called a road trip for fuck’s sake. And now we won’t make it to the game, so it was all for nothing!”

Not for nothing, Steve thinks. They spent the last couple of hours bickering over who got to pick the music and then singing along horribly to whatever they picked to annoy the other one further, which is one of Steve’s favorite parts about driving around with Eddie. That and watching him while he drives, less worried about being caught staring at him. Not to mention the milkshakes they had at the diner where they stopped for lunch were the best Steve’s ever had. Even if they miss the game, which was the whole reason for this trip, Steve would be okay with it. 

But Eddie sounds genuinely upset about it so Steve turns to face him and puts his hand over his knee. “I bet we can catch the rerun at our hotel in Chicago.”

Eddie huffs. “That’s lame, Steve.” His eyebrows knit into a frown. “You were supposed to be there and watch it live, maybe get hit by a ball or something.”

“Eds, why are you so butthurt over this?” Steve can’t help but ask. Missing a basketball game—even a big one that they drove all the way to Chicago for—shouldn’t be getting under Eddie’s skin like this. “You don’t even care about basketball.”

“No, but you do,” Eddie says with a sigh. “And you- you’re always doing things for the kids and for Buckley and for me so I just wanted to do something for you. Wanted us to do something you want for once. That’s why I got the tickets.” 

It’s Steve’s turn to frown. “Wait, I thought Wayne got the tickets from someone at work.”

Eddie hangs a hand from his neck, watching the rain fall through the window, not meeting Steve’s eyes. “Er, no, I asked him to get them for me like a month ago when he drove to Chicago for a job,” he explains shyly. “’Cause, you know, you need a credit card to get them on the phone and well, obviously I don’t have one and neither does Wayne, so-”

“Why?”

Eddie blinks at him. “Because we’re poor?” 

“No, Eds, why- why did you lie about the tickets?” 

“’Cause I knew you’d get all—” he gestures wildly at Steve, “—you about it and offer to pay for them or something and that wasn’t the point. The point was me doing this for you, y’know? Driving four hours just to sit and watch a game that I don’t give a fuck about because you give a fuck about it and I give a fuck about you. Many fucks, in fact.” He lets out a shaky laugh in the middle of his rambling. “Fuck, Steve, I actually love-”

And then Eddie snaps his jaw shut so hard that Steve is surprised he doesn’t bite his tongue off. 

One minute he’s looking at Steve like a startled deer, big cow eyes wide and spooked, and the next he’s flinging the door open and stepping out into the rain before Steve can do anything to stop him 

He blinks at the empty driver’s seat. “What the fuck?” 

He watches through the windshield as Eddie paces anxiously in front of the van, muttering to himself as the rain hammers down on him, soaking his hair and clothes. With a sigh, Steve grabs his jacket from the backseat, zipping it up before following Eddie out of the car.  

“Eddie! What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m drowning myself,” Eddie says, running a frantic hand through his rapidly soaking hair and talking just loud enough for Steve to hear him over the rain. 

“Why?”

Eddie whirls around to face Steve. His bangs stick to his forehead because of the rain and Steve wants to reach over and brush them back. “C’mon, Stevie,” he says, shaking his head. His expression is open, vulnerable, terrified. “You’re smart enough to know that was a love confession. And a shitty one at that.”

Steve blinks, feeling droplets of water fall from his eyelashes. His heart hammers in his chest. “You- you love me?” 

A laugh escapes Eddie’s lips—a mix of amusement and incredulity. “Sweetheart,” he says, his lips curling into a sad smile. “I’m so in love with you that I was down to drive us through a torrential storm to watch dudes throw balls into laundry baskets with you.”

Despite the rain soaking Steve’s clothes by the second, he feels warmth spreading through him at Eddie’s words. “Eddie-”

“I don’t expect anything, Stevie,” Eddie interjects. “You don’t even have to let me down gently or apologize-”

Steve tries again, taking a step forward, but Eddie instinctively takes a step back. “Eddie, I’m not-” 

“I know-”

Steve growls, exasperated. “No, you don’t know,” he snaps when Eddie keeps interrupting him. “God, you’re infuriating sometimes.”

Eddie laughs but it’s a little shaky. “Big word, Stevie. Twenty points for you.”

Steve shakes his head. He closes the distance between them in two long strides, trapping Eddie against the hood of the van. Eddie looks spooked at the proximity so before he can run away Steve cups his cheeks, keeping him in place. 

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh, Steve?” 

“I need you to shut up, Eddie,” Steve says, brushing his thumbs over Eddie’s cheekbones. His lips part, undoubtedly to make another remark but Steve beats him to it. “‘Cause I’m trying to tell you I’m also in love with you.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut immediately.

“There you go,” Steve says with a chuckle. His stomach flip-flops in anticipation. “Eddie, you know I love basketball-”

The words make Eddie frown. “This isn’t the love confession I imagined-”

“Christ. Shhh!” Steve presses his finger against Eddie’s lips with an amused chuckle. Eddie yelps but otherwise stays quiet. 

“I said I love basketball,” Steve starts again, “but I’m happy to watch it just on TV, y’know? The reason why I agreed to a four-hour drive for a game was you. I wanted to go on a trip with you. We hang out all the time and it’s never enough. I’m fucking- obsessed with you! Christ, I love you!”

His finger leaves Eddie’s lips, telling him it’s okay to talk, but Eddie just blinks at him, and for a moment, all they can hear is the rain falling around them. 

Finally, Eddie clears his throat. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you do a love confession,” he says in an awed voice.

“Do I get another twenty points?” Steve asks with a chuckle.

Eddie giggles. Steve has to fight the urge to pinch his cheek again. Adorable. “You get all the fucking points, sweetheart, that was romantic as fuck.”

His thumb brushes over Eddie’s cheeks, warm and pink despite the cold. “Do you know what’s more romantic than a love confession in the rain?” He asks. Eddie shakes his head, water dripping from his bangs. “A kiss in the rain.”

Eddie’s eyes widening in realization are the last thing Steve sees before he surges forward, all but mashing their lips together. 

There’s barely half a second of Eddie’s frozen shock before there are hands in Steve’s hair and lips moving slowly and tenderly against his own. Steve moves closer, pinning Eddie against the hood of the van, one of his hands leaving Eddie’s face to settle on his waist. He wants to move even closer but the angle is a little uncomfortable, and he can’t lay Eddie down against the hood the way he could do if they’d drove the Beamer. Also, the rain isn’t stopping and Steve is starting to get cold after standing under it for so long.

So he breaks them apart despite wanting to kiss Eddie longer but keeps their foreheads pressed together. “Can we get back in the van now? Before we drown for real or catch pneumonia or something?” 

“Whatever you want, baby,” Eddie says in a deep voice. The way Steve shivers this time has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with how Eddie sounds and what he just called Steve. 

Hooking his fingers through Eddie’s belt loops, Steve drags him towards the passenger’s side, pausing to kiss him every few steps. There, instead of reaching for his door, he reaches for the sliding door handle. 

Eddie frowns. “Wait, I thought-”

“It’s still raining.” Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “We’re not going anywhere for a while.” He kisses the other one. “So I thought we could keep this going in the backseat.” He places one final kiss on his lips.

Eddie’s eyes widen and he nods fiercely, grabbing a fistful of Steve’s jacket and pulling him inside. They land on the backseat, Steve on top of Eddie, and while that’s exactly what Steve was after when he led them to the van, he still needs to get the door. Eddie doesn’t seem to care about that—he hooks his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. 

Steve lets it happen for a moment, already addicted to kissing Eddie but he must put a stop to it when he feels water starting to get into the van. He pushes himself up, his hands on either side of Eddie’s head, and effectively separates their lips. “Gotta get the door, Eds,” Steve says when Eddie whines. 

“Hurry up,” he says impatiently. With a nod, Steve goes about sliding the door closed and then he’s back to hovering over Eddie, leaning down to bring their mouths together again. This time he licks the seam of Eddie’s lips, and when he parts them immediately, Steve slides his tongue inside, licking into Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie makes a small needy noise in the back of his throat and Steve takes it as approval, kissing him harder, letting one hand snake under Eddie’s wet shirt, feeling him up, while he holds himself up with the other one. Eddie’s hands make their way to Steve’s hair, fingers tangling in the wet strands, tugging lightly on them, making Steve momentarily break the kiss so he can let out a moan when the tug goes straight to his dick.

Eddie looks up at him with dark eyes. He gives his hair another tentative tug to see if he can drag that sound from Steve a second time. 

He can. 

“Fuck, Steve,” he whispers like he can’t believe this is happening. “You’re a dream.” 

Steve desperately wants to hear Eddie too, so he starts kissing his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. Eddie tips his head back with a heartfelt groan, exposing the column of his throat. Steve takes that as an invitation, sucking at the pale skin until a mark starts to bloom. He bites lightly at the skin and soothes the sting with his tongue, listening to Eddie’s delicious string of gasps and whines.

His legs come up to wrap around Steve’s waist, pulling him closer until Steve is lying on top of Eddie. 

Eddie who is hot and close and already hard against him. 

Steve is hard too, he can feel his dick pushing against his wet jeans. He knows they should probably get out of their wet clothes soon but right now he doesn’t have enough patience to do that. He doesn’t want to waste any time that could be spent kissing Eddie, not until they’re satisfied. If the way Eddie is wrapped around Steve like a needy koala means anything, he doubts Eddie wants that either. 

So instead Steve slowly moves his hips to meet Eddie’s. 

A whimper slips past Eddie’s lips at the friction. “Oh, fuck, Steve,” he pants against Steve’s lips. The way Eddie moans his name goes straight to Steve’s dick, making it twitch as it begs for more friction. He rolls his hips again. “Jesus, fuck- I’m- sweetheart-”

“You okay?” Steve asks when Eddie can’t seem to finish a sentence. When he rolls his hips again, Eddie makes a noise like he’s dying, failing to utter any words. “Want me to stop?”

“No!” Eddie protests, shaking his head, hair wild and fanned out on the seat. “Don’t stop. Just uh- fair warning, I’m about to embarrass myself and come in my pants like- fuck, like this.” 

Steve groans. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

“Yeah?” 

Nodding enthusiastically, Steve starts rolling his hips at a steady pace. “Yeah, I want it. Wanna make you come, Eddie. Wanna see you.” 

“Holy shit, Steve,” Eddie swears. On the next thrust, he pushes his hips up just as Steve grinds down and they both moan loudly.

They fall into a rhythm after that, approaching the edge quickly. Hoping to make Eddie come first, Steve wedges his hand between them, cupping Eddie’s hard dick with his palm. It feels big and Steve’s brain feels like it’s melting out of his ears when he so much as thinks about touching Eddie without his jeans and his underwear in the way, about blowing him, about Eddie fucking him. His own body jerks almost involuntarily against Eddie’s thigh. 

He does his best to rub the length of Eddie’s dick as best as he can through his clothes, pressed so close together. Eddie lets out a string of moans and whines that shoot sparks of pleasure down Steve’s spine.

“God, Eddie, you’re so- you sound so good. So fucking hot.”

Eddie shudders against him, his breaths coming quick and short. “Don’t stop,” he pleads even if Steve has no plans to stop what he’s doing, not when he’s so close to giving Eddie what he wants. Instead of stopping, he squeezes the head and strokes him faster. “Fuck, Steve, I’m close.” 

“Yeah, come on, Eddie,” Steve urges him on. Eddie sobs against Steve’s neck, hips jerking along with the movement of Steve’s hand. “Come for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

Eddie whines, high-pitched and needy. “Steve, I’m gonna-” He bites out just as Steve squeezes the head of his dick, his words trailing off into a moan as he tips over the edge. Steve watches Eddie come undone for him—head thrown back as his eyes roll into his head. It’s the hottest thing Steve has ever seen. It’s too much. He needs to come.

He grinds against Eddie’s hip, hard and desperate, chasing his own release as Eddie catches his breath. He’s so close already. 

Eddie must realize it too. “Your turn, sweetheart,” he tells him, his hand finding its way back to his hair, brushing it away from his face. “Fuck baby, you look gorgeous like this. Flushed and needy. Humping my leg, so desperate,” he whispers, kissing Steve’s cheekbones, his jaw, his neck. Little whines escape Steve’s lips as Eddie starts to run his mouth.

“Can’t wait to do this somewhere else, Stevie, someplace where I can drop to my knees and blow you.”

Steve’s breath hitches, his dick twitching when he pictures Eddie on his knees for him—lips wrapped around his dick, eyes molten as he looks up at him. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah? You want that, sweetheart?” 

Steve nods eagerly. “Y-yeah. Wanna blow you too.” 

One of Eddie’s hands cups his cheek. He runs his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip. “‘Course, baby. You can do anything you want to me.” 

Steve’s hips stutter, his brain foggy as he gets closer. “Y-you too. Anything. Fuck, Eddie, please.” 

“I got you, baby, c’mon,” Eddie whispers. His hand travels down until he’s cupping Steve’s ass, urging him to grind harder against his hip. Steve feels like he’s on fire. He’s so close, he can feel it, he just needs something more-

That’s when Eddie tugs harshly on his hair at the same time Steve grinds down, and just like that, he’s done for—he moans Eddie’s name as he spills into his boxers. Eddie kisses him through it, whispering praises against Steve’s lips that make shivers run down his spine. 

Steve can’t kiss him back at first, the aftershocks of his orgasm leaving him feeling a little stupid, yet Eddie doesn’t seem to mind—happily taking control of the kiss, licking into Steve’s pliant mouth. 

Once his brain comes back online, Steve kisses him back lazily until his neck starts to hurt and the arm holding him up cramps and he has to lower himself on top of Eddie, his head resting on his chest. 

They’re quiet for a moment, the only sound in the van is their labored breathing, as well as the rain falling outside, though not as hard as before. 

Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, which is slowly starting to dry. “We might’ve missed the game—” Eddie starts, and for a moment Steve is confused, having completely forgotten about it, “—but that was definitely a home run.” 

Steve snorts. He gives a weak slap to Eddie’s shoulder. “That’s baseball, you dork.”

“Eh, whatever. I won, ‘s what I’m saying.”

“You lost your money though,” Steve says, absently playing with Eddie’s curls.

“Worth it!” He says, and Steve can hear his grin in his voice. “Hey, it’s not raining as hard anymore. We can try and make it for the last few innings.” 

“Again, Eds, that’s baseball,” Steve giggles. Eddie shrugs, jostling him slightly. “And I told you I’m fine watching it in our hotel. I prefer it, actually. Can’t do this—” He props himself up on his elbow and kisses Eddie, “—at the game.” 

“Good point.”

Steve smirks. “Can’t fuck me at the game either.” Eddie splutters, his eyes nearly bulging out of his face. Steve laughs. “You okay?” 

“Yup! I just- I think my brain broke just by thinking about fucking you.”

“But you want to?” 

A hysterical laugh falls from Eddie’s lips. “Do I- Steve, sweetheart, baby, that’s the understatement of the year. Of the century even!”

Steve smiles, pleased. “Then it’s settled, we skip the game and head straight to the hotel.” He pauses, thinking something over. “Maybe dinner first. It can be our first date.”

“You don’t need to wine and dine me, baby,” Eddie says, “you already got into my pants.” 

Steve glances down at their still wet clothes. “Technically, I didn’t.”

Eddie snorts. “Guess you’re right. Okay! You can take me out to dinner, big boy. Though we should probably change first.” 

Steve shifts, grimacing when he feels the mess in his boxers. The fact that his clothes are soaked only makes him feel more gross. “Yeah, let’s do that.” 

They dig through their duffel bags for dry clothes and use the back of the van to change. Steve lets himself look at Eddie in a way he never allowed himself when he stayed over or when they hung out at the pool and finds Eddie staring right back, both of them smiling—giddy and slightly disbelieving. 

By the time they change, the rain has stopped completely so Steve steps out so he can move to the passenger seat. Eddie simply climbs to the front and flops gracelessly onto the driver’s seat. Steve watches him maneuver his long limbs with a fond smile, reaching over to smooth his hair down. 

Eddie smiles back at him, dimples digging into his cheek. Steve can’t help but lean over the space between them and kiss each of them before finally kissing Eddie’s lips. 

“Are you sure you’re not even a little sad we missed it?” Eddie asks when Steve pulls back. 

He shakes his head, leaning back against his seat. “No, Eds.” He grabs Eddie’s hand, interlacing their fingers together in the space between the seats. “As far as I’m concerned, I already won tonight.” 

“Steve Harrington, you sap,” Eddie teases yet he squeezes Steve’s hand, placing them on top of his leg, refusing to let go, going as far as using his other hand to switch gears as he starts the van. “Let’s make sure you score a few more times tonight.”

“Oh yeah, baby, talk sporty to me,” Steve says in a deadpan tone that makes Eddie cackle loudly.

But despite the two of them joking about it, they score again that night.

And a few more times after that. 

[xuchiya]

"3 points for the pretty lady!" || choi jongho || one-shot

| genre: non!idol ateez. fluff. slice of life | mentions: teasing. fainting. jewelry gift. ankle injury | This is literally my high school delusions. My old school is literally an 'old school' school like no phones and computers, being in a relationship is not allowed, and big ass windows as our source of fans--- i mean we do have electric fans and ceiling fans but with the weather and a very old, close to dying, e-fans? We really have to depend on the wind from our windows. Anyways, this list is basically a true experience. My personal favorite? Song Mingi's.

The electric atmosphere in school finally found its release. The annual intramural games finally arrived, and the whole high school was abuzz with excitement. Students from every section swarmed to the courts to contest each other in volleyball, basketball, and badminton. This is the kind of energy you thrive on-except this year, you can't be a part of it.

Two weeks back, a lousy ankle injury had taken you out of the volleyball team. It wasn't just sprained at that angle; it was a complete break. And the doctor had said to lay off for a few weeks, absolutely none of the heavy duties. To begin with, the break had kept you at home—away from the school and the exhilaration of intramurals. But at the end of the week of inactivity—with tedium climbing, siren call after snowy-carolled siren call intercepting your fantasies—you decided, no, you certainly would not have intramurals slip by just because you had a broken leg. If you weren't able to be on the court, then at least you'd be cheering from the sidelines.

You had made it to school in a wheelchair, courtesy of a thoughtful classmate, and were determined to watch your section compete. They wheeled you out of the classroom and into the hallway that led out onto an outdoor balcony that overlooked the massive quadrangle; a sight of the two basketball courts set up in the middle of wide-open space sent a wave of nostalgia. You might not have been able to play, but being there felt right.

Some of your classmates had staked out spots on the floor, legs swinging out over the edge of the balcony as they leaned over the railing to cheer for your section. Not wanting to take up too much room, you sat sideways in the wheelchair, torso twisted slightly, arms on the railing. From here, you could see everything:.

Your section's basketball team was in the middle of an intense game. Though the score was tight, the opponent was leading with a wide margin of ten points. Not knowing the sport precisely, you knew by then the stakes of a basketball game. The tension in the air was thick, as your classmates cheered and groaned at every gained or lost point.

Curious about the lineup, you leaned over to tap Chaewon. "Hey Chae, who's in the lineup?"

"Oh, I think it's Hongjoong, Minho, and Changbin. Oh! Keeho and Soul.and Jongho." You thanked her and returned your gaze to the game. Then, your eyes found him—Choi Jongho. The light chestnut hair that was his head caught the sun as he ran effortlessly across the court. Even though his team was behind, Jongho didn't appear fazed. If anything, he looked more determined than ever. You watched as he skillfully weaved through defenders, driving toward the hoop, his focus unbreakable. He made a layup, cutting the other team's lead down to eight points. The crowd roared in approval.

Your heart felt like it was ready to pop from your chest. Jongho had been everywhere-snatching the ball now, passing it off quickly and taking shots that didn't seem possible. Never to give up, he had slowly chipped away at the lead the other team had. And just when you thought he couldn't do more, a foul would be called on the opposing team.

And it would be Jongho's chance to make a free throw.

You watched, breathless, as he stepped up to the line. The entire court seemed to go silent while he prepared for his shot. Your fingers curled tightly around the armrests of your wheelchair, and your stomach was knotting with tension. You didn't even realize that you were squirming in your seat, nervous for him.

Jongho's first shot flew through the air and swished smoothly through the net. The relief coursed through your body, and your classmates erupted into cheers. But it wasn't over yet-he still had one more free throw to make.

As Jongho got ready for his second shot, the unexpected happened. He turned his head, his gaze slicing over to your direction until it landed on you. The second dragged itself away when, out of the blue, he winked, and your heart fluttered in surprise at the action.

Then, in one smooth, flowing motion, Jongho released the shot. It arced through the air with a beautiful, poised grace, and again, it went down. The crowd erupted, and you couldn't help but smile as pride and excitement rushed in to take the place of the nerves you'd felt only a moment before.

The game wasn't over yet. Literally only with seconds to go, the opposing team rushes down the court desperately seeking a final shot. They missed and your team gained possession again. Jongho had the ball again; the crowd was standing on their feet, waiting for his next move.

He jogged up to the three-point line, turned towards the court, and called out in a loud, clear voice, "To the girl in the wheelchair, this three-pointer is for you."

Your classmates all turned to you, making you blush deep in your seat, using your hair to hide the burning of your cheeks. Chaewon teased, "Looks like someone's gonna shoot their shot."

You playfully threw your handkerchief at her, cheeks still burning. "Yah, stop!

You hold your breath as Jongho steps onto the semicircle of the three-point line. In one swift, smooth motion, the shot releases with his fingers curled. His middle, ring, and pinky fingers stay extended in the air as he turns around, not even looking as the ball is arced through the air beautifully, spinning in perfect form. It seemed to take an eternity, almost in slow motion, as one watched it approach the basket. The court was silent but for every pair of eyes that were on the ball. And then-swish. The ball passed cleanly through the hoop, right as the buzzer blared, signaling the end of the game.

The crowd exploded into cheers that resonated throughout the quadrangle, Jongho's eyes meeting yours once again, a satisfied grin spreading over his features. You can't help the smile breaking on your face, clapping and cheering for him and your team.

Jongho's shot had sealed the win for your section, and though you weren't on the court, you felt like a part of this victory. He had dedicated that last shot to you, and the feeling of camaraderie and connection was strong as ever between you and your classmates. It was their victory, and excitement just seemed contagious. His teammates stormed to Jongho, congratulating him for a great performance. But just as he could leap into the revelry, Jongho raised his eyes to the balcony, and for a moment, he let his eyes lock onto yours once again.

You cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled, "To number 12, shoot your shot already!" Jongho snorted in amusement as his team and coach went on him, teasing him. You threw him a wink this time.

[middlingmay]

Hello! What about ❛ can you just be an adult about this for once?! ❜ from the confrontation prompts, for Clegan? 👀

Aw thank you so much for this one @amiserableseriesofevents! I needed something silly and fun to write and this was absolutely perfect. I hope you like it!

Prompt from this list.

“Can you jut be an adult about this for once?!”

All their years together, John should have known better than to think raising his voice at Buck would bring the man to his senses.

Gale had been sitting, arms crossed and pouting (John couldn’t see because of how Gale angled his face away, but John knew that motherfucker was pouting). But the second those words left John’s lips in that tone, Gale turned to him slow.

“Baby—”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Buck, please,” John damn near pleaded, his legs buckling as he staggered towards Gale, who watched prim and straight-backed and glowering from his perch on the sofa. “This is ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous.”

Gale raised one unimpressed, disbelieving brow. “Ridiculous. I didn’t realise the sanctity of our marriage was so ridiculous.”

“The sanct—for Christ sake, Buck.” John was on his knees before Gale now, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We just play ball together. That’s it. What’re you getting in such a snit for?”

If looks could kill, John would have just ruined the carpet Gale had lovingly picked out for their living room. But in all its shades of red and brown, at least the mess he left behind wouldn’t be such an eyesore. Buck did hate a mess.

Buck’s legs were crossed. One arm was crossed over the other at the forearm, too. He glared down at Buck, showing teeth, and leaned forward so John had to look up to face him.

Gale’s anger had always been a quiet thing. His joy was bright, his frustrations loud, and his sadness cold and devastating. But when he was outright angry, he barely ever raised his voice above a whisper, like he didn’t trust himself beyond that. “That’s it? There’s nothing else you gotta tell me?”

John’s heart kicked up. He hated hearing Gale like that and he had no idea what had caused it, or how to fix it. When Gale was mad at him, he could freeze John out for days that stretched achingly close into weeks. He couldn’t stand it.

“What? Gale what are you—?”

“Like, I don’t know, how he had his hands all over you, half undressed right there in the park? How ‘bout that?”

John was going crazy. He was hallucinating this whole thing. That was the only explanation for the utter insanity Gale was spouting off. Making moves on a fella that wasn’t Gale was bad enough, but out in public where anyone could see? “Are you outta your goddamn mind?”

Gale grabbed at the collar of his shirt and hauled him in close. Through gritted teeth he said, “Don’t you dare lie to me, John Egan. I fuckin’ saw you. Lettin’ him paw at you like that in nothing but your undershirts.”

A flash of a memory returned to John. He and Harry—a fellow baseball fan who John had made friends with at the bar one night—had been throwing pitches down at the park. But Harry was a useless pitcher, always had been, and he'd finally swallowed his pride and asked John for some pointers to improve him game. One night, that night, Harry had been throwing better than he ever had before and they’d kept at it until he’d finally pitched the ball further than John. Harry had whooped and hollered and yanked John into a hug that had his toes brushing the ground.

But it was summer, and they’d been at it so long they'd worked up a hell of a sweat. They had lost their shirts and had been down to their tanks for half of the game.

He remembered coming home that night to Gale already in bed.

Gale saw it dawn in his eyes. “Yeah, I saw you. Walked over to fetch you since I didn’t want you walking home in the dark alone, only to see you making a damn fool of me.”

It was stupid. It was reckless. But he couldn't help it. John couldn’t have stopped that smirk creeping across his face if a Kraut had trained a gun on him. “You’re making a damn fool of yourself.”

Incensed, Gale leapt to his feet and pushed Jhn over on his ass. “You laughing at me, now?! I ought to thrash your behind all over this house, Bucky! I won’t be no damn pushover for anybody, not even you!”

“Buck!” John’s voice shook trying to hold back the laughter and Gale made to storm off. But he had to step over him first because he pushed John’s massive frame right in his own way. So, before Gale could run off and lock John out of their room, John grabbed his ankle, thumped the back of his knee, and sent Gale tumbling down next to him.

But Gale came down swinging.

As John got his arms around Gale’s waist to steady his fall, Gale wrapped an arm around his neck, cinching him in a headlock that had him spluttering and gasping.

“Buck!”

John used his grip around Gale’s waist to haul him up and toss him down. Gale only broke his hold around John's neck when the breath was forced out of him in a winded heave as John threw all his considerable weight onto Gale’s front.

Pinning Gale’s hips under his own and catching the fists that came flying for his head, John pressed down whilst Gale thrashed and kicked and wore himself out. It was no easy feat. Gale was strong and healthy and angry to boot. And he’d always been a scrapper.

But eventually it stuck, and Gale stared up at him furious and breathless, and John couldn’t help but think how beautiful he was. And how fucking stupid he was, thinking John had anything left in him for anyone else when Gale consumed it all.

“Get. Off.”

“Not a chance in hell, Buck. You gonna listen?”

Gale made a last ditch effort to yank his hands from John’s grip but he doubled down.

“Because if you did listen, for two goddamn seconds, you’d know that was just a hug—” Gale scoffed “—and Harry has a girl he’s been eyeing up. For a few weeks now, in fact.”

Something behind Gale’s eyes wavered at that. So John pressed his advantage.

“How could you ever think I’d do something like that to you?”

Gale’s sharpness and grit softened under the pressure of hurt, and John ached to see his eyes start to light up with the sparkle of water he’d stubbornly refuse to let fall. “I didn’t. Till I saw it with my own eyes.”

John pushed his luck and leaned down to brush his nose against Gale’s, then to press their foreheads together. Gale closed his eyes and refused to look at him, but he didn’t turn his head away.

“I promise that ain’t what you saw. Okay? I’m dizzy for one fella and one fella only. And it certainly ain’t Harry.”

Gale bit at his lip and John wanted to pry it from between his teeth. “I saw the way he looked at you, John. Same way they all used to look at you.”

John didn’t see it himself, but he wasn’t about to try and convince Gale of that. “Well I ain’t lookin’ back.” He risked dropping one of Gale’s wrists and tapped the soft skin under one of Gale’s eyes. “I’m looking right here.”

Gale’s lips twitched, so brief it was likely involuntary, but John took it as a good sign, especially as a delicate blush dusted over Gale’s cheeks, too.

“You’re not shopping around on me?”

It was the strangest thing. Major Gale Cleven was the most competent, confidant pilot he knew—miles above the rest of them in the 100th, even John himself. He was a natural leader and shouldered the role like he was born to it. But when it came to their relationship, Gale had these rare bouts of insecurity, like he was afraid he was holding John back from something. But they rarely escalated to this.

“No,” he said firm. “Happy with what I got right here. You loony.”

And finally the hurt and anger started to recede and a hopelessly endearing sheepishness started to take their place.

“Sorry,” Gale whispered, abashed.

John took his face in both his hands and rubbed his thumbs over the soft, plump lines of his cheeks, feeling the sharp bones tucked a healthy distance below the surface. “There’s no body on this damn planet who could make me even think of doing anything but coming home to you. But goddamn, Buck. Maybe talk to me next time? Instead building it up like this?”

And wasn’t that a strange twist of fate: John Egan being an advocate for mature, healthy communication.

Gale nodded and John couldn’t resist another second. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Still holding Gale’s face like it was the most precious thing, John swooped down and stole Gale’s breath from him. He peppered the plush bite of Gale’s lips with one kiss, two kisses, three kisses, until Gale was straining upwards to catch him good and proper. It wasn’t about that drive, that hunger that sparked up so easy when they kissed; it was the continued soft press of reassurance, of comfort, of the joy that came from knowing you were good and loved.

And John didn't let up until Gale finally laughed, raspy and tickled. He planted one solid kiss to Gale’s forehead before he pulled back.

“You wanna come with me?” Because Harry was a friend, and John didn't drop his friends for no good reason, but he didn't want to abandon Buck after this. “See for yourself there’s nothing to worry about?”

But Gale shook his head. His smile dimmed a little, but the hurt from before didn't make its comeback neither.

“No, I just—oh, I don’t know what I was thinking, Johnny. Got in my head a little is all.”

“Mm. Too much thinking makes ya dumb, Buck.”

Gale rolled his eyes fondly and sat up on his elbows. “Go have fun. But don’t take too long.” He thumbed the button of John’s pants as he said it and looked up at him through golden lashes, and John was sure he and Harry were about to have their shortest game yet.

Taking Gale’s arms in his hands, John drew them both up off the floor and kissed Gale again. Gale’s hands worked into the soft flesh of his waist, and as John reluctantly pulled back, Gale let the tip of his tongue dip into the crease of John’s lips before he tucked it back behind pearly whites.

Bastard thought he was sneaky, but fuck if it didn't work. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

John made for the door, his and Gale’s hands still linked, and they stayed stretched across the space between them until John finally stepped out of bounds. He didn't take his eyes ff his husband until he forced himself to close the door all the way.

God he loved that man.

He wouldn’t mention Gale by name, but wait until he told Harry this one (he’d mentioned once that he had a cousin who was queer, and he spoke of him fondly, so John knew Harry was no biggot). He’d get a real kick out of it.

Laughing and heart full and fond for the man inside their house, John started up the car and drove off.

_

Not two hours later, much earlier than normal from these play dates with Harry, as Gale had taken to calling him in his head (before the whole Harry-touching-up-his-man debacle), John came wandering in the door, wide eyed and dazed.

Gale was immediately on the alert, thinking the worst.

What had happened? Had a car backfired? Had that damned German Shepherd gotten loose and roamed the neighbourhood again? Had—

“John.” Gale hurried over to him, hands coming to grab at John’s arms. “You okay? What’s wrong? What happened?”

John laughed, a giggling slightly hysterical thing. He grabbed Gale back desperately hard like he wanted to keep him right here.

And that was just fine. Gale wasn’t going anywhere. Not until he knew what was wrong so he could fix it.

“Talk to me. What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“John—” Gale skipped straight from alert to alarmed.

“Promise me, Buck. Those other mooks don't know what a hot head you can be but I do, so promise.”

“Alright, alright.” Gale rubbed his hands up and down John’s arms. “I promise. For Christ sake what is it?”

John hesitated, and gripped Gale even tighter. “For talking sake, how mad would you be, if you were right about Harry?”

“If I was fuckin’ what?”

[0asisbliss]

Darling why run?

Pt.2

Parings: Yandere!Chrollo x Cubby fem!Reader

TW: Kidnap, mentions of torture, other dark shit.

A/N: Sorry for any spelling errors. Pt.3 since you guys asked for this first.

You sat there in silence trying to concentrate on the door. Waiting for it to open. You needed to get out. The rusted old chains on your leg felt itchy, and you could no longer feel the weight of them because of how tight they were. The beating image of your friend still stuck in your head. It was horrifying. Your face still hasn’t changed. That same nonchalant expression that you had when she was asking you to put her out of her misery.

You play her screams over and over again in your head. Your head. It’s beginning to hurt. Though you try to ignore the pain. The door still hasn’t opened. You estimate it’s been two days since Chrollo left you to rot in the of the home you once loved so much. Chrollo had it all why would he throw it away like that? To ruin your life? Traumatize you? Did he no longer love you? Maybe, just maybe this all a little sick game to Chrollo. He probably found joy in your suffering.

You stopped looking at the door and stared at your legs. Could you still even walk? You were in pain, and you were really hungry.

You heard a creaking sound come from the door. It must have opened. Chrollo came into room with a plate of food and a glass of water.

The fucking nerve.

“Get. The. Hell. Out.” You muttered quietly, but harsh enough for him to hear. You were tired of being quiet you hated being down here, you hated being chained, and you even hated him.

“Darling, maybe you should eat hm?”

Chrollo sat the plate beside your hand. Even in your hungry state you refused the food from him to demonstrate your hatred and sorrow. You looked at it, and threw it on the ground. The glass plate shattering, and food plastering the floor.

Tears started to well at your eyes as you began to cry. Your sobs turned into screams. Chrollo sat beside you and rubbed circles on your lower back.

“There, there my darling it’ll be okay.”

You started to punch at his chest and you even slapped him. This was just your first week in this confinement so Chrollo didn’t get too mad at your behavior.

“Fuck you. I hate you, you crazy motherfuc-.”

Chrollo cut you off by slamming into your lips you didn’t kiss him back instead you bit into his bottom lip hard.

Chrollo didn’t hesitate to push you off of him when he pulled away blood dripped down from his lip as he looked at you in shock. Why the hell would you bite him? You didn’t do this before.

Chrollo backed away, and got off the bed.

“Alright since you failed to eat dinner how about I come back at a later time. Maybe when you have finally got yourself together.

You finally had enough two fucking whole days of bullshit, and pure torture, and he gives you this smart mouth bullshit?

“Y’know what Chrollo fuck you. I’ve been stuck in this filthy fucking basement for two fucking days. And you have the nerve to come and act like you’ve done nothing to me? Rot in hell.”

Chrollo stared at you with no emotion in his expression. Almost like he was starting you down, sizing you up. Why did he find delight in your present state? This is the most emotion you given to him in days. He wants more of it. He could even sense aura coming from you. It was sharp almost like the pressure of the air got lower, and the atmosphere got heavy. Then all of a sudden it stops. Maybe you were no longer angry?

He needs to feel this sensation again. Hell if he has to bring another one of your friends in here for Feitan to torture just for him to see this happen again he will. Maybe he’ll go deeper next time and bring your mother? He never liked that hag anyway.

“Darling be careful what you wish for, and for what you wish on people. For it could double fall back on you.” Chrollo shut the door behind him.

You watched him walk out the door and you huddled back into a ball on your bed and sobbed silently to yourself.

In your once shared bedroom Chrollo was planning. You showed such a strong emotion. He felt your aura without you even trying to show it off. Who knew you could bring your ability to life without even hesitating. He had to get you to feel that emotion again. He needed to feel your aura on his skin again. Though he didn’t show it he wanted to take you right there when you were yelling and crying at him. It made him feel close to being utterly happy?

You didn’t know a thing. All you felt was rage in that moment know all you can feel if restraint. You acknowledged that Chrollo showed no fear to you and that you wouldn’t win against him or even have him give you your freedom.

It was like all of a sudden the world outside was some fantasy realm you wanted to escape too. Maybe to escape your reality. There was no hiding from it, but maybe you could run if you were fast enough. It would take guts and an extra set of balls to even test Chrollo’s patience.

Though he had a lot. Everyone had their limits maybe you could used that to you advantage, and stretch his patience. Although the consequences might be hectic you had no other choice. You didn’t want to rot in this basement for the rest of your life. You had to get out. No matter what it took. No matter who dies. You needed to get away from him.

Chrollo knew your mindset more than you think so you had to be swift. Chrollo was already imagining the things you would probably do to escape. He was mentally and physically prepared. There was only one way out in his case. That was death. Even though that won’t happen to you anytime soon.

He has to train your brain, and get you to feel something again for him to conjure your nen out of the depths of your soul, so he can take it. It would be perfect, amazing almost. You’re giving him what he needs to be even more successful in his “career” that is enough to show him you love him.

And after all of that you can finally settle down and bear his children. Maybe two? A boy and a girl, or a pair of twins should do. Just the slightest smile appeared on Chrollo’s face thinking about it. Y’know what? That reminds him he needs a journal to write all of this stuff down. He couldn’t wait to feel your aura, and see the expression on your face when he finally gets to explain all of this to you.

[xoxoskai]

REMIARI (AND EVERY COULD'VE BEEN)

RemiAri's book would 100% be called Goddess of Chaos.

Unedited cuz your girl is lazy doesn't have time.

For Nyxie.

Ariella Nash first notices Remi Astor when he's bawling his eyes out.

Silver decided to swing by the Astor mansion with her girls to check on the youngest Astor after he dislocated his knee during a game.

With her mother preoccupied and her sister following the oldest King around, Ariella sits by the window, bored out of her mind.

"Baby Nash, pass me that"

Ariella slants a look at the only heir to the Astor Empire and suddenly pities her Aunt Teal a lot.

Her gaze finally catches the basketball lying near her feet that Remington is making grabby fingers (she thought he was too old to do something like that) towards.

"You're bedridden and have been advised to take intensive care. Two hairline fractures mean you shouldn't exert yourself anymore"

Of course, she doesn't say any of it to him as she picks the ball up and throws it without a care.

So, maybe she should have cared a bit. If the crunch sound was any indication.

He groans in frustration, hands slapping over the hurt and Ariella will feel guilty about it later when she finds out she slightly disfigured his nose but for now, she thinks it's not that bad until she hears him sniffle.

"Oh my God! Are you crying?"

Remington Astor hates that he's crying. In front of a 14 y/o no less.

"It's a natural reaction to getting hit in the face, kid"

He peeks through his hands and realizes she's moved a lot closer than he thought. Infact, she's standing right above him.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"Of course it does! This is the nose of an aristocrat, and you might have broken it"

"My condolences"

The deadpan way in which she delivers her sarcasm has Remi speechless.

Eyebrows scrunched, bed hair and teary eyed, Ariella blinks at him before she leans closer.

"You're kinda pretty when you cry"

He frowns.

She smiles.

It cannot be a good sign.

And so, it begins. Ariella Nash's biggest obsession.

At first, she's just messing with him to see what kind of reactions she can get from him. A whole lot, she finds out.

Initially, Cole finds the prospect funny and helps his daughter in messing with the Astor. It's only until Silver has to spell it out for him that Ariella has a crush on him that even she hasn't recognized yet and suddenly the idea isn't as hilarious as it was.

"It'll go away" Silver tries to reassure him.

Checking the magazine in his gun, Cole shrugs "Or I can make him go away."

Remington is tired of having his friend's little sister show up everywhere and sabotaging his chances with other girls whenever he's home.

So, he stops announcing his visits home. He tries to visit his parents as discreetly as possible.

Only for Ariella to be at the dinner table, eyes twinkling, the image of complete innocence as she acts surprised.

"I was just visiting Uncle Ronan and Aunt Teal!" She tries telling him, following him up the stairs to his room after dinner.

Remi doesn't believe her. He's making plans to screw Ava over who probably rat him out for when he refused to spy on his cousin for her.

"Sure, you were"

"Either way, boy I'm glad I chose today cuz imagine I missed running into you"

She's waggling her eyebrows at him, and Remi stops in his tracks, turning to face the girl who was an entire foot shorter than him.

"Ariella. Out of respect for your parents, especially your dad who loves cleaning his guns whenever I come over, I'm going to tell you this for the last time" Pausing for effect, Remi continues when Ariella's playful smile drops "Whatever notion you have in your head about us, kill it. Find someone more appropriate for your age"

Chewing the inside of her cheek, her lips pulled into a sulky pout, Ariella asks "You don't want to hang out with me because I'm 14?"

"I knew they crossed over Ava, but you have smart genes after all" Lightly patting her head as a mockery, Remi moves to open the door to his room.

Leaving a frowning Ariella behind.

Remi doesn't see much of her after that.

Ariella never stops looking at him.

It's virtually impossible when he's so close. When their families are so close. When she sees him even if she does not want to.

Remi is relieved. Minus a follow from her on Instagram and a heart emoji on his pictures sometimes, Ariella keeps to herself. For the most part.

She would not harm any of his flings or dates. Not directly at least. And not for the lack of trying. Being underage meant she couldn't enter any of the clubs, but it didn't stop her from paying people to get stuff done.

Toying with belongings, keying their cars or spray painting them, nothing truly malicious or irreversible, just petty.

Remi figured she wouldn't directly harm him, so he made it a point to pick up all his dates in his car, hold their stuff for them and drop them home. Infact, he would've thanked Ariella for all the extra points it won him to do that.

Ariella retaliated by drawing a :p on the side mirror of his car with a sharpie after that.

But then, Remi misses her 18th birthday party.

Ariella leaves her own party to go sabotage whatever fun Remi was having.

She's undeterred at the chaos ensuing at his place, stomping around the place looking for him. When she can't find him, she goes up to the DJ, unplugs the music till Remi comes looking for the disturbance himself.

"Baby Nash, what the fuck?"

He's shirtless, his hair is disheveled and he's wearing shades indoors. He's never looked more perfect.

"I've waited four years for you, Remington Astor" Ariella tells him, the crowd silent as the words float over them to him "I refuse to wait any longer"

Cole and Ronan are both bothered. Ronan is worried for his son. Cole is worried what he might end up doing to Ronan's son.

Remi is truly thankful he's graduating. Unfortunately for him, Ariella chooses to go to university in the city.

Ariella might as well get an internship at King Enterprises for all the time she spends over there.

Remi might like his job, enjoy it even (he's great at delegating his own work) if a certain hellion didn't show up routinely just to "spend time with him".

Soon, her own workload takes over and Ariella's visits are shorter and briefer. So much so that if Remi times it well, he can skip bumping into her at all.

"She's in the States" Ava provides without him even asking "Some fancy mentorship program at NASA"

"She's a STEM student?"

"Yep. She's smarter than everyone sitting here on this table"

Landon says something in retaliation, but Remi has already tuned him out realizing he didn't really know the youngest Nash like he thought he did.

Ariella cannot believe her father signed her up for this and even though she loves the opportunity and being a scientist is her dream goal (apart from marrying Remi), she thinks she's facing withdrawals from not having seen Remi in so long.

"Oh relax" Her mentor rolls his eyes, flicking the test tube in her hand to gain her attention "Nothing is going to happen to him in six months"

"You don't know that"

"It's true. I don't" He shrugs "But what I do know is that your burner should've been turned off 30 seconds ago"

"Shoot!" Frantically taking the beaker off the stove, Ariella is running it under the water as she makes faces at her mentor.

Working with Jayden Adler is a chore Ariella reluctantly commits herself to because his brilliance was unmatched and even she was aware.

If him guessing she was lovesick ten minutes into meeting her was any indication.

"Miss me?" She asks Remi one fateful Tuesday afternoon that she flew in to surprise him when she couldn't take it anymore.

Remi shuts the door in her face.

"Oh c'mon!" She bangs at the door till he opens it "Really? You're not even going to ask me how I've been?"

Remi holds back what he really wants to say and leans against the door "Baby Nash, to ask I'd have to care"

"You do care" Remi holds his breath because for one second, he believes she read his mind "In that big heart of yours, you care about everyone"

"It would seem you don't know me as well as you thought"

"Wanna bet?"

Remi is actually terrified of losing that bet.

And so, divine intervention helps him.

When the girl he was entertaining before Ariella conveniently cockblocked them calls for him, it's like a switch flips and she immediately shuts down.

"Well then" She's taking a step back and instead of feeling relieved, he's slightly annoyed and then alarmed at his own reaction "I should go see my parents. I'll see you around"

Remi watches her go before shutting the door.

Ariella coming to see him before she went home...does things to him.

Things he does not want to delve into.

Next time he sees Ariella, she's flown in for Ava's wedding.

"Look. I love you, Ava. I really do. But you have to tell me if something's going on, okay? Dad's probably not even coming to the wedding, and this is all too rushed. If something's up, you said you'd always tell me"

"Ari, nothing's up. I love him and I'm marrying him"

"You look like it's your funeral, Ava. I don't know who you're trying to fool"

"Bitch. Did you just say the bride isn't looking radiant?"

Remi is about to announce himself after conveniently eavesdropping the entire time, but Ariella laughs and he stands arrested, listening for a moment longer before he snaps out of it.

"You look positively hideous" Remi provides and it's like a kick to the gut to see Ariella light up like the sun after a cloudy day.

"You, on the other hand-" She moves closer to him, and whispers "-look positively ravishing"

"That is positively inappropriate"

"So, you liked it then?"

Remi has to stop himself from smiling so he turns his attention to Ava, shouldering past Ariella to hug his friend.

Of course, Ava put him on groomsmen duties to walk her sister of all people down the aisle.

"Practice" Ariella mouths to him with a wink.

Remi is scared of turning his back to Cole but thankfully, Cole is more preoccupied with Ava at the moment to notice.

When he offers his arm to Ariella, she cannot stop smiling.

"Ours should be bigger" she tells him when he starts leading her down the aisle.

Remi, who knows in general that his wedding would be the biggest wedding of the century, hums along in agreement.

"I'm not sure my wife would want you to be her bridesmaid, Ari"

"Well, I'd expect not. Unless she wants a "Fiancé runs away with bridesmaid night before wedding" headline on her wedding day"

"You're awfully confident I'll run away with you"

"No" They reach the dais and she's letting his arm go so she can take her place "I'm just confident you'll be mine. Come hell or highwater"

Remi has to be pulled aside by Brandon from where he stood arrested in the middle of the dais after that.

Ariella is basically attached to him by the hip for the reception. So much so that he can smell her lemon and citrus shampoo hours later.

During a mandatory luncheon with all their parents at the Astors mansion, Ariella finds Remi shooting hoops in the backyard where his parents had a basketball court built for him.

"Five free-throws. If I win, you go on a date with me"

Remi, poised for a three-pointer almost missteps when he hears that before laughing.

"You're crazy"

"For you. But we've established that"

Remi makes the shot, misses and turns to see Ariella taking off her heels. Something about her knowing not to ruin the wooden flooring scrapes on the inside of his ribs. Remi doesn't want to find out what it is.

"C'mon" She makes grabby fingers at the ball he's holding, and he should find it ridiculous.

Standing in a blue halter dress that complimented her eyes, barefoot in his basketball court, hair flowing and an entire head shorter than him, he should've found the notion ridiculous. He doesn't.

"I'm not going on a date with you, Ariella"

"You were almost drafted into the NBA. And you're scared of losing to little ol' moi?"

The chances were looking really good for him. But he didn't put Ariella above dark forces and black magic.

"So?"

"What do I get if I win?" He's dribbling the ball around, Ariella turning in his direction as he moved about like he was the sun, and she was the earth revolving around him.

"What do you want?"

Remi opens his mouth, answer on the ready like he'd been waiting his entire life, but Ariella interrupts him "You can't make me leave you alone so asking for that is fruitless"

"There's nothing I gain from this, then" Remi gets into position to shoot a half-court shot.

"I would do anything for you"

Remi makes the shot.

"Have at it then" he tells her, trying to do anything to dissipate the charged tension they were pulled into because of her words.

How could she say things like that so casually to him?

It didn't matter. He would win and he'd ask her to comply with a restraining order or something if that's what it would take to keep her away.

And he needed her away. Desperately.

When Ariella takes position and on instinct Remi notices her perfect stance, he's scared he's made a mistake he cannot recover from.

It ends in a tie. 5-5.

"Couldn't you have made a mistake?" She's pouting as she puts on her heels.

"You could've told me you were preparing for the NBA yourself"

"I'm not on your level, yet. Jayden plays and we would go out and shoot sometimes during breaks"

"Who's Jayden?"

Ariella pauses buckling and looks up, grinning "Are you jealous? You don't have to be. He's my mentor"

"I'm not jealous. If you want to marry him, I'll even catch the bouquet at your wedding. You have my full blessings"

"He's cute but I'll pass" Remi almost dents the basketball from how hard his fingers are pressing into it "Blondes aren't my type" She rises to her full height, still only reaching his chin "Brunettes are"

"I, on the other hand, love blondes"

"I'll make an appointment at the salon before our date"

"Good God, Ariella. We're not going on a date"

"But I won."

"I won too."

"What do you want?"

Remi thinks it's crazy how fast the answer comes to him. An answer that couldn't be beaten out of him.

So, he does what he's best at. Deviation.

He hates that she pulls it off. When she enters the cafe, looking for him, Remi thinks he's an idiot that he didn't just make her go bald instead. Maybe that would stop him from finding her cute. Maybe he shouldn't have shown up. He blamed his own curiosity.

"So? Aren't I pulling it off? I nearly gave Mom a heart attack and Ava laughed for a solid hour, but you asked for it so here we are"

Remi fails to answer as Ariella puts her purse down, her bowl cut swaying a little as she sits down and faces him.

It's insanity. The little hellion stalker actually manages to pull it off.

And he thought she couldn't get cuter.

"It's perfectly disastrous" He can tell he hurt her with that as she quickly turns to call for the waiter. And because his parents raised him better than that, he's doing instant damage control "But you pull it off, yes"

Her face snaps back to him and when she notices he's being sincere, she smiles "My treat. What do you wanna eat?"

When they've placed their orders, Ariella reaches into her bag and procures a small box "I got something made for you, but I never got a chance to give it to you before"

She pushes it toward him, and Remi is almost scared to open the black velvet box.

"Relax, it's not an engagement ring"

"With you. I'd expect nothing less"

"You want to get engaged?" When Remi shoots her a glare, she smiles cheekily "I'll wait till you propose. Besides, I want the sapphire Great Aunt Charlotte wears"

"That's a family heirloom so chances of you getting that is...none"

"When I asked her for it, she said it's mine if I marry her grandson"

"So, you want to marry me for my heirlooms?"

"Yessir"

Remi tries to hold it in, he really does but he ends up laughing at her response and Ariella lights up like fireworks. He thinks she looks cute with her doe eyes twinkling.

He sobers up at the thought completely, Ariella's expression falling with his.

"Why won't you smile at me?" She asks.

And despite what his father taught him, Remi cannot let his heart break for her.

He opens the box. Inside lie two cufflinks, in the shape of a basketball but blue in color.

Remi shuts the box.

"Thanks" he says.

He doesn't take it.

He feels the walls closing in on him.

"This is stupid" He gets up suddenly, pulling his wallet out and slapping enough bills on the table to cover the cheque.

"Wait-" Ariella grabs the box that Remi left behind before following him out to his car in the parking lot.

"What happened? What did I do?" She's asking as she follows him, but Remi just walks faster, resisting the urge to run.

"Ariella. I don't want to do this with you. You're just forcing my hand. I don't see you that way" He whirls at her and she bumps into his chest.

"But why?" She recovers in record time, rubbing her nose, eyes troubled and brows drawn together.

"Because!" Remi can't say anything else because he's too busy noticing how big and blue Ariella Nash's eyes are. They aren't light-almost transparent. They are a deep, translucent blue. Like the sea being viewed from under water.

"You said you didn't want to spend time with me before because I was 14. Now, I'm not!"

"You're still a child"

"I'm almost 21!"

"And I'm 27, Ariella. There are other things more worthwhile you can do with your time instead of following a guy around. Especially one that's not interested in you. It's unbecoming"

She looks like he slapped her. With what he said, he might as well have.

Her entire demeanor shuts down. She slams the box she's still holding atop his car roof.

"I'm a Nash" She tells him "And I won't beg"

She leaves him standing in the parking lot as she gets into her car and leaves.

She also leaves him alone after that.

So much so that Remi starts getting jittery.

If there was something Ronan always taught him, it's to never treat a lady with disrespect.

Remi tries justifying it as Ariella forcing his hand. It doesn't work.

He reminds himself ten thousand times that she's too young for him.

He reminds himself that Cole nearly drowned Eli when Ava asked to marry him.

He reminds himself he can have anyone he wants.

It. Does. Not. Work.

"thisisstupidthisisstupidthisisstupidthisisstupidthisisstupid" He's muttering to himself as he waits for Ariella outside her university gates.

At first, he almost misses Ariella because she's cut her hair even shorter and into a bob that reaches her chin with forehead bangs.

But he almost misses her because she's talking to a guy who could be her professor but they're laughing together, and Remi has to cross his arms to avoid doing something crazy like throwing something at the guy.

She's wildly gesturing with her arms, her face animated and Remi feels his ribs tighten uncomfortably in his chest. Looking at her hurts.

Rejecting her hurts.

He's watching as they both throw their heads back and laugh and Remi is tapping the roof of his car, walking to and fro wondering what could be that funny.

Ariella pauses what she's saying suddenly and reaches into her bag and procures a pen that she looks like she's returning to him. The guy takes it, and Remi thinks they're done talking.

Until he flicks Ariella's nose.

"Ariella!"

Ariella turns to him, her expression blanking before she says something else to the guy and they part ways.

She makes her way toward him looking like she would rather be anywhere but near him. The change is not lost on him.

"I thought you said blondes weren't your type"

"Why are you here, Remi?"

"I'm sorry about what I said the other day"

Remi never thought himself above apologizing. He had always been an advocate for clearing every kind of misunderstanding and hurt caused.

"Cool"

Remi is left standing there as Ariella leaves. Once again.

"That's it?" He calls after her and she pauses, taking her sweet time before turning around.

And Remi notices what a lucky bastard he'd been in the past to never have been subjected to Ariella Nash's blank stare that looked straight through him.

"Was there more?"

He doesn't see her after that.

Not at parties where she'd always be lurking around. Not at their regular family luncheons. Or when he specifically went to visit his Aunt Silver.

"She was just upstairs" Silver frowns "She must've gone out"

Or she was avoiding him.

It irked Remi.

And he couldn't, for the life of him, determine why.

This was exactly what he'd wanted since Ariella had first started following him around but now that she'd stopped, he actually missed her?

He found the notion laughable.

Remi decides to celebrate by going out on a cruise with people he knew, to celebrate.

He takes a flight home in three days. She's upended his life and he cannot believe he misses his stalker.

So, he texts her. He would apologize properly so she did not leave him feeling so shitty in the aftermath.

We need to talk.

The infuriating hellion leaves him on read.

Remi shows up at her university to catch her off-guard, but she changes directions and leaves at record speed when she sees him.

So, Remi takes drastic measures. He is a firm believer of -when they go low, you go lower.

Ariella bursts into his office in record time and he is so relieved to see her that it almost- almost supersedes his annoyance.

"You said what to Professor Adler?"

"Hi" He crosses his arms on his desk "Long time no see"

"Don't fuck with me, Remi. I cannot believe you'd say that to Jayden!"

Remi finally stands up, buttoning his suit jacket and moving around his desk to reach a fuming Ariella, trying to suppress his irritation that it would take saying something to her professor now to get her to acknowledge him.

"What did I say to him?"

Ariella was gritting her teeth and Remi found he quite enjoyed this look on her. She was a fierce little thing; he would be insane to not be attracted.

"An allegation that he fraternizes with his students. Really?"

"That's such a shameful thing to do"

"It's not true!"

"How do you know?"

"Because I know him! If you threaten him ever again, Remington, I will make your life hell"

Lowering himself to her face-level, Remi smiles menacingly at her "Been there, going through it. Try me, Ariella"

Ariella wants to hurl something at his face and really make it hurt this time. She resists "You don't get to act like a jilted lover after you rejected me. Threaten him again and I'll kill you" Moving away, she turns to leave.

"I thought blondes weren't your type?" He asks, blocking her path.

And because Ariella was raised by Cole and pettiness ran in their blood, she says "Brunettes aren't doing it for me anymore"

"Is that so?"

"Remi, let me go"

Even he doesn't realize when exactly he's trapped her between him and the desk but a meteor hitting the earth couldn't make him move away.

"It takes me threatening your professor to get you to acknowledge my existence again?"

"Didn't you want me to stay away from you? If I recall correctly, you said it's 'unbecoming'"

"I didn't mean it"

"Really? I apologize, Your Lordship, this peasant failed to understand that "Following a guy around that's not interested in you is unbecoming" didn't mean "get lost"" She's rolling her eyes and Remi steps closer, if that was even possible, the fronts of their bodies flushed together.

"Did you also fail to comprehend what "You'll be mine, come hell or highwater" means?"

Ariella's breath hitches.

"It means I'm yours. And that, Ariella Nash, makes you mine."

He closes the distance between them.

xxx

It wasn't supposed to be this long! Part two (soonish) cuz ...duh.

[profectua]

》ＢＬＵＥ ＬＯＣＫ Ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎｓ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ; ɴᴏɴᴇ! ᴘᴜʀᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ ʟᴍᴀᴏ

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ; ɪꜱᴀɢɪ, ʙᴀᴄʜɪʀᴀ, ᴄʜɪɢɪʀɪ, ᴋᴜɴɪɢᴀᴍɪ, ɴᴀɢɪ, ʀᴇᴏ, ʙᴀʀᴏᴜ, ʀɪɴ, ʜɪᴏʀɪ, ᴋᴀʀᴀꜱᴜ, ʏᴜᴋɪᴍɪʏᴀ, ᴏᴛᴏʏᴀ

Isagi: Back when he was younger, he had a phase where he would do the dab whenever he scored a goal. It could be completely outdated too and people would cringe at him LMAO. Might’ve also done fortnite dance (he doesn’t even play fortnite). His teammates try to go over and celebrate but he randomly breaks into the orange justice (he can’t even do it properly) so they end up just standing there like 🧍. Let him have his moment I guess???

Bachira: He was one of those kids that played with insects outside or something (speaking from experience) 😭. You’d catch him playing outside and there were 3 worms, each with different names. He probably gave them sad backstories too. The neighbors thought he was weird as hell. If someone pointed it out, he’d be like “Stop being rude to them! They’re my friends!” And he’d actually look pissed off, exactly like this emoji 😠. If he comes back to the same spot only to find that they aren’t there, he’ll come home crying 😭 🙏 Please help him.

Chigiri: He’s canonically a moody guy…I feel like he ‘decides’ his mood for the day ykyk 😭. If it’s a clear sky, sunny day, he’ll choose to be happy but if he wakes up and it’s raining, he decides that he’s gonna be angry. Always ends up breaking character though. If he's laughing and suddenly remembers that he's supposed to be angry, he’ll immediately put on a blank expression again like 😐 and the people around him think they did something wrong LMAOO. Like??? What happened bro???

Kunigami: His go-to pose for photos is the thumbs up or the peace sign and HE LOOKS SO STIFF. He’s just there like 🙂 ✌️. He looks so awkward pls 😭. His little sister is trying so hard not to laugh and he’s just like ???? What's so funny?? If he’s accidentally photo-bombing and realises too late, he’ll strike that EXACT POSE until someone tells him to move cus his brain couldn’t process it ITS SO SAD 😭

Nagi: Once, when he was younger, he tried doing one of those free robux application things where you play a bunch of games for robux and he thought it was legit because some youtuber did it. His parents were like “Seishiro what are you even doing” and he was like “I’m grinding robux mom, you wouldn’t understand” Like Nagi…don’t even get your hopes up 😬. Long story short, it didn’t work and he ended up with some virus on his ipad. He woke his parents up at 3am and was like “um…I think I got hacked ☹️” His parents WERE NOT pleased 😭

Reo: Had a little rebellious phase where he only used cringey Gen Z slang. In front of his parents too and they’d stare at him like 😨. “Zamn ngl this food is bussin’ fr goated no cap,” said young Reo, at a luxurious 5-star restaurant. His mom almost choked on her food. Probably got side-eyed by the waiter too. He didn’t even realise that it wasn’t cool until he found out that NOBODY actually says all that 😭.

Barou: When he’s eating other people's food or eating at a restaurant, he judges it like he’s Gordan Ramsey or something??? Imagine he’s at someone's house for dinner and then when they’re eating he has this whole routine. First he sniffs, feels the texture, then he examines with his eyes, and finally starts eating. You’ll tell if he likes it or not from his expressions 💀 He’ll start interrogating too LMAO. He’d be like “What kind of spice is this?” “How much salt did you add?” HE’S NOT PLAYING YALL.

Rin: Took elementary dodgeball SERIOUSLY. He’d yell at his teammates. Losing? Not on his watch. “WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?! IT’S DODGE BALL NOT GET HIT IN THE FACE BALL YOU LOSER!”. If he ever lost a game in PE, he’d start crying and throwing a fit, all while blaming his teammates. He would act like an angel if Sae was there though LMAO.

Hiori: He tries to re-enact cool moves from video games. Like if there's a character that has a cool playstyle he’ll literally hop out of his gaming chair just to swing a spatula around 😭. He got the sound effects goin on too, you can hear little pews and booms. Or if there’s a specific voice line from the final boss that he thinks sounds cool he’ll say it out loud (sometimes his parents hear and they think that he’s lost it not that they care though.)

Karasu: He had a huge chess.com phase, probably in middle school. But he was that one kid that goes ‘I wasn’t even trying tho lol’ when he lost (behind the screen he is SCREAMING in rage). ALSO He’s the type to be super expressive (kinda like Barou) 😭. You’ll know when he’s judging you cus’ his face will go 😬 😲 ☹️ 😧 🤔 in that order 💀. He could say something but his expressions reveal all there is.

Yukimiya: When he first got his glasses, he probably forgot them a lot LOL. Like he’d show up to football practice without them and one of his teammates would go “Yo where’s your glasses, Yukki?” and he’d be like…oh yeah. There was probably one point where he thought his eyesight was getting better. He woke up one morning and just decided that he suddenly felt like he had good vision again. It was all in his head 💀.

Otoya: He once tried hitting on a girl when her boyfriend WAS RIGHT THERE and he didn’t even notice. Let’s just say he ran for his life. His older sister has a video recording of it and uses it as blackmail. Worst of all he genuinely thought he could've ‘stolen’ her from him 😭 LIKE OTOYA NO. 😭

[nytb]

The Final Nail In The Coffin

Click Here first <3

Y/N's choice to join Lyon brought its reward soon enough, ruling the French league - undisputed - lifting all possible trophies. Up next, the Champions League. Semi-Finals ahead, the return game against Fc Barcelona at a packed Spotify Camp Nou.

The French team had previously been beaten at home 1-3. Starving for the European trophy, the French team would surely throw everything into the match, needing to redeem themselves.

Luck had struck the Spanish side as Y/N had been injured the week prior to Lyon's home game. She wasn't able to get her revenge back then, but now? It was staring her in the face.

The days prior to the game were madness, interview here, photo-shoot there. Y/N Y/L/N and Caroline Graham Hansen were the perfect players to promote the Semi-Final.

A pre-match press-conference where both players sat alongside their managers. Reporters fed them questions as conflicts arose.

'How are the teams doing?', 'The 3-1 win sure sends Fc Barcelona to the final, what are your plans to stop them?', 'As a born and raised culé, how does it feel to play against Fc Barcelona at the Camp Nou?' - that was it - that was the question.

Y/N had been emotionless throughout the whole press conference, but that question; it forced Lyon's new star signing to draw the line in the sand. "Me? A culé? You're mistaken" Y/N's tone carried as much arrogance as the statement itself.

Quite the contrast. On one side, a Norwegian - who was signed from Wolfsburg - expressed her devotion for the club at every turn. On the other side, a La Masia graduate that once bled blaugrana declared what all culé feared. Y/N's return was scratched. She was no longer their star.

The best part was the reaction. Y/N knew that Barcelona's dressing room was holding on by a thread. Her statement would cause waves to form, distrust to build. A storm approached and it had Y/N's name all over it.

Pre-match, everybody could see it. Heated discussions, warm ups without a single smile. The Barcelona locker room had finally been divided, but their hunger to win - that one was unbeatable, or so they thought.

As a great military strategy states; divide and conquer - and that's what Y/N did.

Warming up with her new teammates, Y/N further fueled the rumors. Y/N purposely hovered over the Dutch international, her potential new love interest - Danielle Van De Donk. 

A few meters away the blaugrana team warmed up. Hearing how the Camp Nou roared as their names were announced. All focus should be on the match ahead, but Mapi Leon? The defender’s eyes wandered off into the distance. All her attention stuck to Y/N’s figure. Alexia Putellas? A carbon copy of the Spanish defender.

Who would have thought, once upon a time best friends craving Y/N’s attention and neither of them receiving any of it. 

Y/N had struck Barcelona's strongest pillars, turned them to dust. The dressing room was now divided. All woman for themself.

Nobody was aware of it, but Lyon won the first battle. 

The loud Champions League anthem in the background, the Spotify Camp Nou roaring. It was now or never.

A game worthy of a final. The Catalan's game plan was executed to perfection until disaster struck.

The defense had temporarily gone to sleep, a through ball that put Ada Hegerberg through on goal - and as the world class striker that she is - Ada buried the ball into the net. 30 minutes in and the cracks started to show. 

Barcelona’s attacks had become dull and as they left spaces open, Lyon’s counter attack was made possible. The French celebrated quickly, wanting to keep their momentum going. 

Y/N took her opportunity to offer a further blow to the Catalan team. Smirking at Mapi, sending a quick wink towards the Barcelona captain, Y/N knew that she was in their heads now.

The score? 3-2 on aggregate. Was Lyon about to cause a major upset? Would this be the first defeat of the Catalan team at their packed home stadium? Surely not.

Making her way towards goal, Y/N picked the ball up in midfield, helping Van De Donk as Barcelona pressured to get possession back. Lyon's star signing dribbled down the flank, sending Rolfo packing with a beautiful nutmeg - Mapi was up next.

Focused on her next move Y/N failed to see Patri's challenge. The Lyon player was sent flying. For the first time, Y/N’s teammates ran to her defense - demanding a red card that never came, shoving players away from the Spaniard.

That was it, Y/N's game seemed to be over, her substitution warming up as the medical team feared for the worst. It looked like her vengeance would never come.

"I'm fine" Y/N stood up, there was no way that she would sit out the game of her life. Pushing through the pain, the agonizing needle sensation that her right ankle caused as she put the slightest weight on it - Y/N wasn't giving up just yet. She still had a lot to offer.

For a while, Barcelona seemed to get the game under control. Half time came and with no substitutions, their game plan remained the same - dominate possession and create as many goal scoring opportunities as possible. A move that would soon backfire.

As time passed, substitutions came and thus, play after play, the French team started to get into their usual rhythm. Soaking up pressure, taking advantage of Barcelona's tired hybrid fullbacks, they sent balls in behind - the second goal was inevitable.

Y/N's link up play with Damaris, quick switch up as a long ball headed towards Carpenter's boot, the perfect control. Lyon was knocking on Barcelona's doors as the Catalan defense crumbled - failing to defend the cross - Ada Hegerberg's header made it 3-3.

Lyon fans went crazy. This was it. They were back in the game and with 15 minutes left, the momentum on their side - their dream was becoming a reality. The possibility of a treble was alive.

Rage in Alexia's eyes, displeased at her substitution, she was headed to the bench and Y/N's face painted the full picture. A smile that spanned from ear to ear, mocking her ex-lover. Barcelona's queen wasn't good enough to save them, but Y/N? She was Lyon's salvation.

Build up play from their defense, Van De Donk's through ball finding Cascarino, a perfect back-heel that left the ball dead on the edge of the box. An absolute screamer of a goal. The ball left Y/N's boot, hitting top bins.

That's when it happened; the final nail in the coffin - not even the devil dared to do such acts - Y/N kissed the Lyon badge. The whole Camp Nou watching, their hero had turned: she was now their worst enemy.

Van De Donk lifted Lyon's newest star and as Y/N posed like the Jesus statue in Rio De Janeiro, she could practically touch the sky. 

The Camp Nou whistling, Lyon fans going crazy. They did the impossible. An 89th minute screamer sent them to the Champions League final.

[sisterofsomeone]

Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On a wedding day in Baldur’s Gate, a marriage is sealed with a sanctified bond. A powerful magic that allows your minds to meld and cannot ever be undone. It is also required to share your darkest secret for the bond to be bestowed. There is a common myth passed around that once, a very long time ago, a woman was tricked into marriage by a demon of sorts and only found out when they wed. Every wedding at that moment the room falls silent, waiting for another scream, another myth making secret to be revealed. You just never thought you would be witness to it.

Series Warnings: Wonwoo x fem!reader, slight Seokmin x fem!reader (because I can't help myself), established relationship/situationship, angst, fluff, swearing, drinking, smoking, there are references to end game BG3 and spoilers for the whole game so please proceed with caution! smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl, princess), oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, size kink, reader has a vagina that gets described as a pussy/cunt, slight dub-con for a second then clear consent, (more will be added as the series goes on!)

Word count: 3.5K

Author's note: Hello again! I was originally going to write this as a oneshot, but I just kept writing and writing and felt that I really wanted to try and flesh this world out. So, it's becoming a series! I cannot promise regular updates as I am in my final year of university, and start back up at my graduate job in september, but I am really enjoying writing this so I'm aiming for at least once a month, but maybe more. I do also have another series in the works which I want to post soon as well, so keep on the lookout for that one! I’ve never written anything like this before so bear with me if it’s not very good! Please enjoy, I really do hope this is entertaining for you, and have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening! Lots of love, Caitlin <3

This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to represent the actions, ideals, or attitude of the idol Jeon Wonwoo.

Baldur’s Gate. The jewel of the Sword Coast. Granted, you never knew there was supposedly a dragon sleeping under the city before the invasion, but still. A wonderful place to live. Life here was easier for someone like you, the eldest daughter of the Apothecary Merchant. Father had spent most of the money he made to dress you in the finest of clothes, hire chefs to teach you to make the finest of meals, and ensure you were surrounded by the best trained ladies in waiting possible. Status meant everything to him, and you knew you had to marry up to please him. Being the eldest of three girls, you were schooled in house making, cooking, mathematics, business, politics- anything and everything that would endear you to one of the knowledgeable and wealthy bachelors your father was hoping to wed you to. Your younger sisters however were afforded the luxury to follow their throws of passion and learn dance, music, or geography to teach and travel. You didn’t much care for home making, your fascination with the foul words in other languages usually left your tutor giggling after you begged her to teach you them. You were smart, quick with numbers and well versed in politics and business. It was something your father loved about you. The daughter that would lift them even higher in status. You were his political pawn.

You were with your mathematics tutor when she burst through the door. Your mother, her face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breaths.

“The- The King wants you to attend the ball.” She spoke. “The ball for the princes to choose their brides. He has called for you specifically.”

“Oh?” You didn’t so much as look away from your work, still toying away with the problems in front of you.

“Yes! Oh Gods girl, what are we to do with you?” Your tutor excused himself as your mother swanned towards the large windows. She was as dramatic a woman as you had ever met, and you loved her for it. Turning to face you, her dress billowed, and it struck you yet again how beautiful she was. You knew she used to be the catch; the young daughter of a cattle farmer swept into the Sword Coast by her wild fancies and taking Baldur’s Gate by storm. She married your father in a rather quickly arranged match, both being only 21 and your bump already starting to show through her clothes. She had always held a special place in your life, and the closeness in age only solidified your bond.

“You’re to help me avoid it. You know I want nothing to do with the royal family.” You raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on your lips as you turned another page in your book.

“It’s such a shame. You should go, if not for yourself but for me. It says and family and you know how much your sisters and I would love it!” Her fingers danced across the edge of the paper, twirling the red silk ribbon that used to hold the envelope closed as she read and reread the words.

“You know, there must be a specific reason they invited you. I heard only four girls and their families were invited specifically by name.” He voiced wavered, tone light, eyes meeting yours with that twinkle you knew meant trouble. Sometimes it felt like you were the parent in this.

“Will I need a new dress?” With that she squealed and swept you into her arms.

“Oh darling! You are going to love this!” Untangling her arms from around you she ran from the room and to the staircase.

“Girls! Darling! Come downstairs, your sister has an announcement!”

It was dark outside when you were finally allowed to rest. Your mother had dragged you and your sisters around every tailor in the city, eventually settling on a beautiful, glittered gown from the Facemaker’s that made it look like you were dripping in starlight. Your sisters marvelled at you, them seemingly more excited for your prospects than you were. As you stood before the full-length mirror, watching the way light danced across the dress you caught your own breath. You stood tall, the shimmering fabric laying against your body as if made solely for you. Your face now seemingly had the allure you always attributed to your mother, the colour of your eyes mirroring her own beautiful hue. It was the first time you felt a fraction as beautiful as her. That’s why you let your mother buy the dress, but you’d never tell her that.

The evening was warm as you took a book from the library and made your way to the balcony. Lighting the lamp on the table you slipped yourself onto the velvet covered seat and pulled the small blanket around your legs, hiking them up to your chest. It was here you sat, absorbed in the words of scholars until a small cough caught your attention. This was routine at this point, so you put your book down and pulled yourself from the seat, dangling a hand over the railing in front of you before leaning your head over. The man clasped your hand and smiled up at you.

It had all been an accident, you meeting Seokmin and Wonwoo. You weren’t supposed to be walking unescorted to Sorcerers’ Sundries, well technically you weren’t supposed to be walking there at all, but what Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You had stopped but for a moment to watch the magic show at the front entrance when you felt a hand dip into your pockets. You grasped their wrist and turned, only to be met with a small child.

“I’m-I’m so sorry miss, please let me go.” The tiny tiefling looked terrified, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. Immediately you dropped your guard, gaze softening and grip on their arm loosening.

“Child, no need to be scared I won’t call the Fists. But let’s not go picking anymore pockets hm?” They nodded, thanking you as they scurried away. Thats when you heard the laughter. Two tall men, eyes dark and trained directly on you and the scurrying child.

“What are you two laughing at huh?” The slightly broader one cocked an eyebrow at you, and the other pointed behind you. There you saw the scared tiefling, not so scared anymore as them and their friend – who you hadn’t noticed until now – were poking their tongues out at you as they waved a purse above their heads.

“That’s mine!” You shouted as they hurried off, tails wagging and giggles filling the dark streets.

“You fell for that hook line and sinker.” One of the hooded men let a plume of smoke escape his lips and curled them into a smile. “Are you new here or something?”

“No, no. Look at her, she’s a sheltered little princess I bet.” The other said, closing the distance between you and him. You finally got a good look at him. Dark eyes, golden tanned skin, a smile spread across his face that lit a fire in your stomach. He leaned down, face now only inches from yours. “Such a sheltered little princess, aren’t you?” There was an earthiness to him, a woody smell that danced under a zesty citrus. This was no commoner’s perfume.

“Who are you?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shone from below you on the balcony, that same smile lighting that spark deep in your soul. He was intelligent, worldly, but most of all, he was kind. He climbed up the balcony as usual, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you. It was hot, fiery and passionate. It always felt like he was swallowing you whole, devouring every part of you. He pushed you backwards, lowering you into the plush of the loveseat as his body covered your own. His mouth never left yours, tongue playing against your bottom lip as you gave him entrance. He moaned, fingers running through your hair and pulling, revealing the length of your neck to him. He kissed down it, careful not to leave any marks as he did so.

“My beautiful girl, my pretty girl.” His lips left a searing trail down to your chest, his hands trailing down your sides, bunching up your dress to reach your core.

“Wonwoo, baby, we can’t. Not tonight.” It was almost useless, his lips never stopped working against your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point. “Wonwoo, baby.” A whine left him that had a throb course through your body and set that flame burning.

“Don’t tell me to stop baby please.” He kissed you again, hands never stopping their assault on you. “Please don’t tell me I can’t play with my pretty girl’s pretty pussy.” His eyes darkened, teeth bit down harder, and you could almost feel the punctures from his canines.

“This pretty pussy has been invited to the King’s ball. This pretty pussy might have just been sold off by her ever-scheming father.” He stalled at this, hands stopping their assault and mouth leaving your skin.

“What?” His eyes were trained on yours as you swallowed thickly.

“We got the invitation today. Gods know how he did it. But he did.” Wonwoo moved off you, settling into the space beside you.

“Are you happy? With the idea I mean?” You let out a short laugh, cold and harsh.

“Happy? Why would I be happy? No one has ever seen them, been allowed near them, and what? I’m supposed to marry one of them. Be used as breeding stock. Finally put all this stupid training to use.” He laughed softly from beside you.

“You think this is funny? My life being sold off to the highest bidder and you laugh?”

“No! No, it’s not like that I promise.” His arms were around you again, pulling you into his chest. “I think there’s more to this than you know. Go to the party. You might be pleasantly surprised that’s all.” His lips were on yours again. “And no matter what happens, I’ll never let anyone else touch you the way I do.”

The morning broke through your curtains and the man beside you stirred. His chest was warm beneath your cheek as you kissed the arm draped around you.

“Darling, you must go before we get caught. Again.” He groaned, rolling the pair of you over, trapping you beneath him. That smile was back, softly lit by the warm glow of the sun pouring in through the windows. “Wonwoo, baby please.” His lips were soft against yours, pouring love into you like there was no tomorrow. His fingertips danced across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He rolled his hips into you, want evident at the broken gasp that left his lips. “Wonwoo baby.” You moaned out, fingers moving to his shoulder blades. He rolled his hips again, the slickness of your cunt allowing for him to rock smoothly and bump his cockhead into your clit. “Wonwoo, we can’t.” But your body gives you away, the roll of your hips as you shake beneath him has him lining up instantly.

“Princess, say no right now and I won’t do it. But say yes and I’ll give you a baby. I’ll fuck you so full it has no option but to stick. You’ll be mine.” Your lips chased his as you nodded frantically against him.

“Yes Wonwoo, yes yes yes.” He pushed in, cock stretching you as you raked your nails down his back. His thrusts were deep, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you.

“My princess wants a baby yeah? Wants me to fuck her full?” He growled into your ear, hips smashing into yours.

“Please, wanna make you a daddy.” You purred back. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers rubbing circle after circle into your swollen clit as you arched up into him. He never stopped kissing you, never stopped whispering praise into your mouth as you came around him.

“Please Wonwoo, want you to fill me up. Please.” You dug your nails into his skin, drawing a hiss from him. He’s panting, sweat lining his forehead as he thrust into you again and again, bringing you to orgasm over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. He pushes you over the edge again and again, having you crying his name into his mouth over and over as you beg for him to finish in you, mark you as his.

But he doesn’t. He pulls out as he always does and finishes onto your thigh. It’s over then, the light shifting to a cold blue as the sun shifts behind a cloud. He moves away from you, gathering his clothes and dressing.

“When will I see you again?” He pauses, eyes meeting your own.

“You won’t see me like this for a while. At least, not this version of me.” You don’t know what that means, but he doesn’t give you any time to ask as he kisses you again so softly. His hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as a tear falls from his face and onto yours. “But you will see me again, I promise.” As he pulls away, he places a final kiss on your forehead before stepping back towards your balcony. You let him go like you always do, but not without that horrible hole ripping through your chest.

The night of the ball drew closer, and there was no sign of Wonwoo or his brother. You were alone. The lessons ramped up, your father wanting there to be no chance of failure. You were his pawn, and he was so ready to make that final check. Your mother tried to get through the walls you put up, your sisters gushed every day about how lucky you were, how you were going to have the life of your dreams. But you weren’t. You wouldn’t be with Wonwoo. Wouldn’t be able to kiss him again, wouldn’t be able to hold him. You’d never be able to make him a dad.

“Your invitation madam?” Your mother was positively glowing with excitement, your sisters each hanging off one of your arms, you suspect to stop you from running. Your mother presents the invitation, and the guard cocks an eyebrow. “Please, this way for special guests.” You were escorted towards a separate entrance, a large pair of white wooden doors beset by giant boars on each side. The doors were parted for you, and the entrance was the most beautiful you’d ever seen. You were ushered inside, your sisters gasping and pointing at the artwork lining the walls. But your eyes were drawn to the three other girls.

“They’re your competition child.” Your father pulled you aside from your sisters and scanned you from head to toe. “But you’ve got a brain to best all of them. Be smart, be strong. Be the girl I raised you to be.” You glanced back over to them. Each one you knew to be a member of one of the aristocracies, as you were. You vaguely remember having a run in with the half-elf, but if she remembered you, she gave nothing away in the cold gaze she returned.

“If everyone is now here?” A voice sounded from the stairs above you. Your eyes followed where it was coming from, and the woman you saw standing there was the most beautiful you had ever seen. Dark eyes, with even darker hair cascading down her back that held soft curls that bounced as she began to walk towards you all. You had never seen this woman before, but something pulled at you from your stomach as if you recognised her.

“You are all chosen specifically by the princes themselves. My sister's sons wouldn’t allow for our intervention, so feel very lucky. Some of you would never have made it this far.” Her eyes fell on you at this, and your father bristled beside you. “Now, if you’ll follow me.” She sauntered towards the large doors across the marbled floors. You moved to follow the queen's sister, silently cursing yourself for not recognising her as your legs pulled you along before your brain could think of a reason to turn and run. She demanded that the girls line up, manhandling you all into a line with you left on the end. Your families were to follow along behind, and not say a word.

There was a commotion behind the doors, music filled whatever room you were about to be ushered into and laughter and conversations could barely be heard through these giant doors. You tried to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles of your dress, hands moving on their own as you chewed on your bottom lip.

There was a moment of silence before the doors swung open, and an even longer moment of silence when all the eyes in the ballroom fell upon you. Your gaze flitted from person to person, not a single face you couldn’t put a name to. Families with daughters much better suited for this match burned holes into your skull from jealousy. You were standing there, with the whole world at your fingertips and their daughter wasn’t.

You were ushered down the steps before you, the sea of people parting as the four of you made your ways forward. Your eyes were on the floor as you had been instructed to do so, never for a second daring to look upon the men sitting at the other end of the ballroom.

“This is the half-elf Carmae of the Boat Merchant.” You were right about recognising her then.

“This is the high elf Dauphine of the Gold Merchant.” You heard her light steps, the small “Hello sirs.” that sounded so beautiful falling from her lips as she greeted the men.

“This is the wood elf Avalynne of the Cloth Merchant.” You were next.

“This is the human Y/n of the Apothecary Merchant.” You stepped forward, curtseying as you were taught, eyes moving up to acknowledge the men before you.

“Hello sirs-“ Those eyes. That smile. Wonwoo sat before you, hand rested on his chin as he surveyed you. You felt a churning in your stomach as you let your eyes fall upon Seokmin beside him. His soft curls sat upon his head as he smiled ever so softly at you.

“We can now begin.” The music started up again as the crowd of people swallowed you up. Your sisters beamed at you as people swarmed you. They wanted to know where you got your dress “The Facemaker.” You politely replied. Who did your hair? “My mother wanted to.” You smiled at them. You were pulled from conversation to conversation. Every family wanted a piece of you. But your mind was back on Wonwoo. Your heart calling out to him across the floor.

His eyes followed you, dark and cold like you’d never seen them before.

“Wonwoo, calm down. She’s yours I’m not going to take her.” Seokmin leant over to his older brother, giggling slightly at the older man’s demeanour.

“I know you’re not. But they might.” He followed his brother’s gaze to the men being introduced to you by their fathers. “It seems like being the prince’s chosen gives a girl a certain…” His eyes scanned the crowd of men now surrounding you. Your father ever so keen to get you introduced to as many of them as possible. You were trying to be amicable, that soft smile on your face hiding the discomfort you felt. The burn of jealousy coursed through his veins as he watched you laugh and smile at these fools. If only they knew what he’d done to you, the noises he could pull from you with just his tongue or fingers. The way you beg him to cum in you, the tears in your eyes as he fucks you through another orgasm. You’d be too much for those idiots, they couldn’t make you feel how he did. Couldn’t make your body react the way he did.

“The princes will now have their first dance with each of the chosen.” Wonwoo and Seokmin stood, and the floor was cleared again. You finally found yourself walking back towards the man who held your heart in his hands and smiled. Wonwoo noticed that it finally reached your eyes.

“It is lovely to meet you Y/n.” He placed a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“It is my honour sir.” You smiled even wider this time as he drew you closer as the music began.

“I hope you’re a good dancer.” He flashed you that dazzling smile once more as the music began up again.

“I hope you are too sir.” You felt the flush creep up your cheeks as the two of you started to dance. Your eyes glued to his as he led you across the floor, his never once leaving yours. You finally got what he meant that morning. While this was a surprise, you’d help him play the part for as long as it took to get your Wonwoo back.

[babytarttdoodoo]

Jamie’s afraid of making a big deal out of being hurt after everything that happened in season 1 - he doesn’t want everyone to think he’s being a prick again. But then one day either in season 2 or 3 he actually is genuinely hurt badly (the reason is up to you) but doesn’t tell anyone and shows up to practice anyway. It’s bad enough that he collapses on the field and that’s when everyone finds out.

I could have made this so much easier on myself and literally just written the conversation at the end. As it is, I started hating this about a third of the way through.

I hope that's just hyper-criticism of my own work and that this is still an enjoyable request fill.

---

It wasn’t like he’d done it on purpose.

A lack of sleep, a dark hallway, and a half-forgotten set of steps had all converged into a little tumble in the middle of the night. That was all.

A bruised side. A knock on the head. No big deal.

That’s what Jamie had told himself as he’d inspected the damage in the mirror. He would be fine. He could put his kit on at home and wear a beanie to cover up the dark smudge of skin at his temple.

No one would notice. No one needed to know. It would be fine. Hardly the first time he’d pushed through an injury to stay in the game, was it?

He didn’t need to miss training. He didn’t need to turn up at Nelson Road and tell Ted he couldn’t play. Just the thought of trying to do so sent a thrill of unease through Jamie that he wasn’t keen to examine too closely.

So he took some ibuprofen, slowly and stiffly got changed into his Richmond gear, and called a taxi to get himself to the training ground late enough that no one had time to question his appearance.

(Driving was out of the question. He could admit that.)

Roy all but sneered at him when he stumbled in - that wasn’t anything to write home about, though. He caught a few looks from the others and had to wave Dani off on their way out to the pitch but, otherwise, Jamie was able to keep his head down and not draw attention to himself.

Drills were awful. Just stretching out his legs had him biting his tongue against making any pained sounds. When they started lunging, the hot-sick pain in his side necessitated swallowing down bile.

Sprints weren’t the worst, though Isaac definitely noticed he wasn’t starting from a crouch as he normally would. Then Nate had them doing a coordination exercise, hopping sideways and throwing balls between each other.

Lifting his arms was bad enough. Then each hop jolted Jamie’s whole body and made his head throb.

He managed, somehow, but Jamie wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He was being slow and clumsy. He was being useless. Fuck.

Panting, sweating, and trying not to throw up, he hovered at the back of the group and prayed no one called him out. No such luck. 

“You alright, mate?” Colin had sidled over while Ted called out their scrimmage teams. He was speaking quietly, which Jamie appreciated, but frowned at him with an unusual level of seriousness. Shit.

“Course I am.” Jamie forced himself to straighten up and smile. It felt wrong on his face. Too many teeth. “Just got a stitch. Didn’t drink enough.”

Colin looked doubtful, like he was about to question him further, but Jamie pushed forward to accept his yellow vest from Beard and positioned himself as far away from the Welshman as he could.

He was careful to stay in the formation they were practising, though. No sense in fucking up training for everyone more than he already had.

Roy hollered “WHISTLE!” from the side of the pitch and everyone lurched into action. Running around wasn’t so bad and Jamie soon lost himself in the game, following the movement of the ball and players with a preternatural instinct, ignoring any pain as the inconvenient distraction it was.

The few times the ball came his way, he took control of it as if by second nature, barely having to tell his feet what to do as he passed to Dani, then to Sam ten minutes later.

He was being a good teammate. He was playing like he was supposed to. And then he heard someone shout his name.

Jamie didn't need to look around to know that the ball would be sailing through the air towards him. He didn't need to deliberate about what to do. He would catch the ball on his chest and send it to Sam again before Richard could make it close enough to tackle. It was the only option to get it in the net.

He didn't need to think about it. He just did it.

And his sore, battered ribs only crossed his mind when he jumped up and twisted mid-air.

The yelp of pain was completely involuntary and Jamie would have been horrendously embarrassed by it if he hadn’t immediately crumpled into a heap on the pitch.

Something had grinded in his torso. It fucking hurt. It felt wrong.

He distantly registered the sound of an actual whistle over the rushing white noise in his ears as he lay gasping on the damp grass. A hand grasped his arm and Jamie realised Richard had skidded to his knees beside him, ball forgotten.

“Jamie? What’s wrong?” More hands were on him, trying to turn him over, but the slight pull sent another wave of sick pain through his side and he keened, curling up further to stave off the harm. “Merde, get the medics.”

“Colin’s already gone.” That was Isaac, a lot closer than he’d been less than five minutes ago, defending the box on the other end of the pitch. “He’ll need a stretcher if we can’t move him ourselves.”

“Fuck.” The notion of needing to be carried out of training brought Jamie back to himself. “I don’t need… Fuck it. I’m fine.”

“No, you are not.” Sam was standing over him as well, Jamie realised as he tried to force himself up to his knees at least. Most of the team were looming around, actually, and Ted broke through their little huddle right as a spike in pain brought up the vomit Jamie had been desperately holding back all morning.

“Hoo boy.” An American accent could really cut through the crowd, apparently, since Jamie had no problem hearing that low exclamation over twenty or so sounds of disgust.

Someone stopped him from pitching forward into his own sick and Jamie finally, limply, accepted help back upright onto his own shaky legs. Ted’s hands were one of the several pairs supporting him and Jamie could feel the humiliation and shame rising up in his gut like another bout of nausea.

“Sorry, coach,” he mumbled, even as he let Isaac put a secure arm around his waist. Sam tried to prop up his other side but Jamie shied away with an apologetic shake of the head. “Ribs. Don’t- Can’t lift me arm right now.”

He silently begged the younger player to understand, to not take it as yet another personal slight. Because Sam Obisanya was a much better person than Jamie would ever be, he only took a firm hold of Jamie’s elbow instead, face belying nothing but concern.

“Okay, folks, let’s give him some room.” Ted shooed gently at everyone not currently vital to keeping Jamie vertical. “You fellas got a good hold of him? We can get a stretcher out here, tout sweet.”

“Don’t want a fucking stretcher. I can walk.” Jamie bit out, choosing not to acknowledge how heavily he was still leaning on Isaac and Sam.

“Well, son, I’m not all too keen on taking your word for that right now.”

Ted’s tone didn’t change at all from the pleasant, practical way he’d just addressed the others. He didn’t raise his voice even a little. Jamie still felt the admonishment like a physical blow and hung his head with a wince.

“We’ve got him,” Sam spoke up. “Treatment room, right?”

They made an awkward threesome, hobbling off the pitch behind Ted and down the tunnel. Colin jogged out to meet them with a medic in tow and (surprise, surprise) Roy peeled off from the other coaches to join the entourage hustling Jamie towards the now-not-haunted medical suite.

Settled uncomfortably on the edge of the reclining bed, with a hovering audience whose eyes he couldn’t meet if he tried, Jamie numbly answered the medic’s questions about his pain level and location. He allowed her to gently remove his hat and examine the bruise underneath, went through the concussion tests without complaint, and was even honest about when he’d last eaten or drank anything.

When she pulled up his shirt, there was more than one sympathetic wince around the room. A quick look down confirmed that the bruise, though still quite small, had deepened in colour since he’d last poked at it and his skin looked oddly swollen around the area.

Even the barest methodical prodding with careful fingers made Jamie flinch and hiss through his teeth. The medic (Jennifer, Jamie vaguely recalled) hummed thoughtfully.

“Two are definitely broken. You’ll need to stay off the pitch for a few weeks, at least.”

The prognosis tightened Jamie’s throat like a hand was clamped around his neck. 

“Weeks? Nah, fuck that,” he choked out. “I were playing fine until I took the chest ball. I can still score.”

“Are you actually thick?” Roy demanded, loud and angry as per usual. There was something wild in his expression as he stepped closer to the bed. “How fucking stupid do you have to be to try and play with broken fucking ribs.”

“Fuck off, you won’t even coach me,” Jamie snarled at him, all attempts at mending bridges forgotten in the wake of pain and frustration. “Don’t act like it matters if I play hurt or not. I’ve done it plenty times before.”

“Alright, alright!” Ted cut in between them before Roy could retort with whatever words had conjured up that twisted, outraged look on his face. Nothing good, Jamie was sure.

“Roy, why don’t you take five, okay? In fact, let’s clear the room. Y’all got things to do, I’ll stick with Jamie while the good doc here gets him set up with what he needs.”

Even with Ted partially blocking his view, Jamie could see Roy was about to argue. Surprisingly, it was Isaac’s hand on his shoulder that seemed to take the wind out of his sails.

“Fuck! Fine!” He shrugged the hand off and pointed damningly at Jamie’s face. “But you’re not putting a toe out on the grass until I say so, you bloody fuckwit.”

With that, Roy stormed out of the room, sending the door bouncing off the wall with the force of his exit. Jamie’s teammates followed much more sedately, all with looks back over their shoulders and quiet murmurs Jamie couldn’t discern.

“Here.” He jumped slightly when maybe-Jennifer reappeared at his side with a bundle of items. “Drink this and take two paracetamol. Hold the ice pack to your side for twenty minutes. If the swelling hasn’t gone down, I’ll send you home with a few extras, okay?”

“Thank you kindly, doc,” Ted answered for him. “I’ll make sure he stays put for a bit.”

“Not a doctor,” she corrected mildly but gave Ted a smile and nod. “I’ll need you to sign an incident report and there’s some insurance paperwork to go through. I’ll go get the ball rolling on that and check in later.”

Jamie didn’t really like the way they were talking around him, rather than to him. He liked the idea of being alone with Ted after having caused a scene and an extra load of work for him even less. Still, he couldn’t think of any reason for the medic to stay and just watched her walk away, gently closing the door in her wake.

“You should probably do as she says,” Ted said softly after a moment of quiet, indicating the bottle of water and packet of tablets. “Doesn’t strike me as the ‘take it or leave it’ kind of advice. Rarely is, from those of the medical persuasion, even if they don’t have a fancy title.”

Moving like he was underwater, braced for the other shoe to drop, Jamie silently went through the motions of taking the painkillers. He tried not to move in any way that would agitate his injury but his hands were still shaking by the time he reached for the ice pack.

“Oh, here, let me…” Ted stepped in closer, his own hands outstretched, and Jamie flinched violently. The sudden jolt caused his abused ribs to make themselves known all over again and a small shout fell from his mouth unbidden.

“Alright, okay, no touching, got that memo, loud and clear,” Ted rambled on while Jamie waited for his vision to clear from the haze of pain. When it did, he noticed his coach frozen in place, hands still hovering in midair and significantly less threatening than moments before.

“Sorry,” he croaked, embarrassment and discomfort robbing his voice. “Didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

“Now, hey, no. That one’s on me.” Ted glanced around and pulled up a chair to sit near Jamie’s knees. “How’s about you get that ice where it needs to be and you and I have a little heart-to-heart, that sound okay?”

Jamie nodded and gingerly wrapped the frozen pouch in the towel provided before applying it to his side. The relief was almost immediate and he felt his shoulders relax from the tense position he hadn’t even registered amongst everything else.

Ted clearly noticed too, since he smiled up at Jamie. There was still a furrow between his eyebrows, though.

“Ain’t it great when stuff helps the way it’s supposed to?” he started and Jamie tried not to let the dread of what was coming show on his face. “You know, when you’re sure that, in theory, something should do you good but you’re not quite bought into the reality yet? It’s a damn good feeling when the bet pays off.

“Course, sometimes it goes the other way. The thing that’s supposed to help you doesn’t do anything at all. Or, hell, it just makes everything worse…”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie blurted out again in a panic. “I weren’t trying to do that. I swear, I know I’m not supposed to mess up training or nothing. I… I…”

“Whoa, whoa, Jamie!” Ted’s smile had dropped clean off his face. “I think we’ve got some wires all muddled up here, somewhere. I’m not fishing for an apology. Matter of fact, I’m kind of wriggling on the end of the hook, myself.”

Jamie really, honestly tried to wrap his head around that one. He failed. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” Ted told him firmly. “We all knew something wasn’t right with you out there today and let you play on through anyway. That’s no bueno. If you can’t rely on your coach to help you out when you need it, well, then, that’s not a sign of a very good coach, is it?”

Jamie stared at him, dumbfounded. “But… I didn’t tell you I were hurt.”

“There is that,” Ted agreed easily, nodding and settling back in his chair. “And I’d sure like to hear how you got knocked around so good in the whole twelve hours you were out of our sight. Any particular reason you didn’t share that with the class this morning?”

“I…” The hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack to Jamie’s ribs started picking at the disposable paper sheet on the bed. “I fell. Down the stairs at me house. Last night. I. It didn’t hurt too bad, I thought.”

Ted hummed. “Well, you see? Accident like that, it ain’t anybody’s fault. And you felt okay after?”

The excuse hung there so temptingly that Jamie was almost inclined to think they were back to mind games. He could tell Ted that he’d been sore, but fine, up until he got out on the pitch. But that would be just another lie, wouldn’t it? And all lying had done for him today was drag more and more people into his shit.

So, instead of agreeing like he so desperately wanted to do, he shook his head slowly.

“No, no I weren’t okay.” He swallowed and looked down at his shoes, dangling just shy of the floor. “Couldn’t even drive myself in, could I? But I thought being here and acting normal was better than… better than saying I couldn’t train today. More important.”

“Oh. Now, that’s another thing to chalk up in the ‘no bueno’ category, I’m sorry to say.” Ted’s voice had softened again but Jamie couldn’t bring himself to look up. “Jamie, if you’re hurting, ever, practice or no, I’d really rather you say so. Nothing’s more important than that.”

“Team is,” Jamie objected quietly. “Being here is. I don’t got anywhere to get sent back to now, do I?”

That sullen admission hung in the air. Jamie heard Ted suck in a breath.

“Okay. Alright. Could you do me a favour and try to lift that handsome as all heck face of yours up, just a smidge? I’m getting the feeling eye contact is going to be real important here.”

With very few options of avoidance available to him, Jamie forced himself to meet Ted’s gaze. His expression bore a startling resemblance to Roy’s wild-eyed reaction before, which did nothing to set Jamie’s mind at ease.

“Jamie, when you turned up to practice last season and said you weren’t going to train, I assumed you were mad because I benched you. That sound about right?”

The player nodded, ready for the familiar prickle of shame that clawed through his chest at the memory.

“So you weren’t actually hurt? Or did I get that wrong?”

Jamie shook his head this time, then clarified: “Were being a prick.”

“Alright, that’s fine. Water under the bridge.” Ted scrubbed a hand over his face, looking relieved for some bizarre reason. “Can we agree, though, that there’s a difference between someone pretending to be hurt, for whatever reason, and someone actually being badly injured? That a middle ground we can settle on?”

“Yeah…” Jamie agreed cautiously.

“Outstanding.” Ted took a deep breath. “So, let’s just take a little hop, skip and jump from there to how things might’ve played out a little differently today than they did last year?”

“Oh.” Jamie blinked a few times, processing. Slotting that bit of logic into the missing gaps of the day. “You’re not angry at me for missing training?”

Ted’s face broke back into a genuine, if tired, smile. “No, sir, I am not angry at you for that. Or for any other reason, while we’re on the subject. I am… mighty disappointed that you didn’t feel like you could come to me, or even call when you took your little tumble. But I think maybe we can both agree to do a little better next time, how about that?”

He held out his hand for a shake - his left, in deference to Jamie’s occupied right. That small concession alone was enough for Jamie to wordlessly grasp Ted’s palm with his own in a firm hold.

“Alright. I’ll try.”

“I know, Jamie,” Ted assured him. “That’s all any of us can do.”

[bemywingman]

went to a yankees game last weekend and then saw challengers yesterday and now i keep imagining pro sports icemav. and i can't even pick a sport to focus on. like i want to see them in every sports universe to explore how their vibes and dynamics would change depending on what they're playing and how they compete. here's one that's been in my head (and pls let me know if you'd want more of these!):

pro baseball icemav who play for rival teams. mav as a rookie pitcher who's taking over the league with his fastball and cocky attitude. sure he's not perfect, but he's been regularly throwing 100mph, and he's had some really impressive pickoffs recently, and his strikeout count only goes up with each game, so people have started to take notice.

the crowd is especially tuned in when ice steps up to the plate against mav for the first time. ice is no rookie. in fact, he's flirting with a .390 batting average this season - a fact that cements his place as the best batter in the league. his form is technically perfect, he always keeps his eye on the ball, and fuck, can he put some force behind the bat.

as soon as ice's walk-out song starts playing, mav chuckles (he can admit the opening bars of separate worlds are a pretty fucking good choice, even if the whole thing feels a little dramatic), but he can feel his heart rate rising as ice gets comfortable at the plate. once he's settled, ice glances up, and mav feels a flip in his stomach as they make eye contact. the rest of the stadium disappears as they stare each other down. the spell is only broken when a particularly loud fan cheers his name from the stands, but mav can feel heat rise in his cheeks when he sees ice's knowing smirk.

in the end, mav should've known he never stood a chance. he gives it his all, throwing the ball as fast as he can down the line, but he can only watch as ice makes direct contact and the ball glides smoothly out of the park. he stands there, completely captivated, as ice jogs around the bases and waves to a screaming crowd. normally he'd be horrified by what that hit just did to his ERA, but for some reason he can't think of anything other than ice and his ass in those pants as he rounds third base. when he gets back to home the crowd is louder than ever, and it's in that moment that ice turns back to mav and honest to god winks at him.

mav knows instantly that the home run was ice's way of teaching him a lesson, of reminding him exactly where they both stand in the sport. the whole interaction drips with arrogance and condescension, and mav leaves with two key takeaways: god, does he want to strikeout tom kazansky, and god, does he want to get his mouth around his cock.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

Some head canons

Teen hanma

also can see him being the type of guy who picks video games over studies

He watched tv once (horror movie)

with kisaki and it ended up with kisaki wacking him in the nuts

He has a thing for saying "fuck it" alot after risking something stupid

Hanma has a thing for clinging up your window and knocking on it at 4am

timeskip hanma

Hanma has a whole collection of watchsHe probably kisses his s/forehead while softly speaking to them about the, plans for the day every morning

homeless hanma befriended a lot of street cats and when he finds money he buys the cats food instead of buying himself food

Hi Kat, thanks for another ask (I'm absolutely lovin' this)!

C/W ::: Mmm, nothing really. More sweet Shuji.

︽ I can definitely feel the whole play before studying. If he studies that night at all. Shuji isn't stupid. He's not necessarily book smart, either. But he figures he's made it this far. What more does the world want from him?

︽ I feel like Kisaki gets really impatient with Hanma (especially) sometimes and feels like there's no other option but to whack him on the balls. But to be fair, Kisaki feels like that about a lot of people.

︽ He DOES say fuck it. I think before doing stupid shit, too. Sometimes, that's the last little push he needs from himself to get the (crazy) job done.

︽ Hanma totally goes to your window at 4am. On nights when he just can't stop thinking about you and how nice you keep being to him. You're one of the first people that doesn't treat him like an absolute asshole (that he secretly feels like??? Is that so much of a stretch?)

︽ He is so vain sometimes! But he would argue there's "nothing wrong with taking pride in your outer appearance." Whether it be with clothing, jewelry, watches, hair ... the man probably has a regular place he gets his brows done, gets facials, and has regular full-body massages. I just see him as someone who likes to be papmered. So what if he has to do it for himself. He's earned it (lowkey not really, though, but he has that mentality that he "deserves it").

︽ When you and Hanma spend the night together, it's usually at his place. He likes the added security of his boys being nearby if anything happens. He can send you off with them or have them stay with you there (he might not even have to wake you up if there's anything eventful happening in the middle of the night), and he won't need to worry about you getting hurt over some stupid shit he started with Toman or Black Dragon. But he totally wakes you up with sweet, soft, minty kisses all over your face in the morning because he's already been up for 2 hours, drinking his coffee and catching up on shit. He brings you a French pressed coffee (a latte, with your favorite flavor or syrup. I think he drinks it black usually, but you've gotten him to sway/experiment with his tastes a little here and there.) And he'll sit down on the bed next to where you're laying and discuss what each of you will be doing that day and how you're coming back to his place again tonight - because he said so.

︽ HANMA. IS. A. CAT. PERSON. I'll say it again. HANMA. IS. A. CAT. PERSON. His landlord/lease doesn't allow pets, so he has to do without. But! But! But! There's a dumpster out back that the complex throws their trash away in, and it's become home to about 15 strays. He saves his table scraps for the "little beggars" when he has something tasty to eat (and by save his table scraps, I mean he saves his food for them to nibble on). He only recently told you about how he helps these kitties out. You think it's the sweetest thing for such a tough guy like him to do, and you know better than to make a big deal about it because he'd get embarrassed and then he and the cats would suffer. And there's enough suffering in the world. You also slip about 6,000 ¥ into his wallet and coats once every couple of weeks or so when he's not looking so you can help feed him AND the cats. You're a big softy for general wellbeing. He's always so surprised to find the money, "Oh what? Look what I found, hana! Shit, I'm lucky. The happy look on his face is so worth it for you because you know deep in your heart of hearts that he's thinking first of the cats and then he'll get whatever he can with anything left over.

Taglist ::: @sjsjkkalatjejejskal @arlerts-angel @viburnt @darkstarlight82 @kazutora-kurokawa

I love your HC's, Kat! (And welcome! We're always happy to have more of us join the ranks! ONE OF US, ONE OF US! ;))