iy*

Imagine that Suga is the worst troublemaker in karasuno. Who was the one who originally convinced Daichi to buy everyone food after practice? Suga. Who was the one who first pointed out that the vice principal wore a wig on the first day? Suga. Who plans the best pranks during training camp? Suga.

sometimes i think I’ll never be happy until i own a well-tailored victorian era suit

8

- When I was growing up, I had no one telling me that I can lean on them. I had to support Bok Nam and my grandma as the pillar of my family. You were the first person who said those words to me. What you said gave me solace. It made me feel safe.
- Bok Sil, I will say those words to you for the rest of our lives. Just trust me. […] Bok Sil, I love you.
- I love you, too.

caught up (in you)

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Pairing: Klance (Keith/Lance)
Rating: Teen and up: for language, lots of kissing
Summary:  Lance allows himself to be led, following Keith’s quick pace with eager steps and a racing heart.

Author’s Notes: you know the feeling you get where you just wanna mash their faces together? yeah, that’s what inspired this entire one-shot. At some point, elements of a bet were added, but that’s not really the focus.

Shout-out to @flusteredkeith for being the first to encourage this, and then @stardusted, @klance-my-way, and @voltrash for continuing to support it.

Anyway, I hope you guys like it! :D

Also on AO3.

When cool fingers slide underneath his shirt, Lance draws in a shuddering breath. He scrabbles to grip something, not really particular about whether he manages to grab a fistful of shirt or, as actually happens, a handful of ass, and slants his mouth over Keith’s. He’s too eager and their teeth click together, but Keith angles his head differently with a slightly disgruntled sound in his throat and pushes against Lance with strength that the taller man had forgotten about.

He feels the cool metal of the castle wall behind him, the chill seeping through his shirt, but everything else is practically on fire. Heat pools in the pit of his stomach and spreads from where Keith’s leg tangles between his own, where Keith’s hands trail across his abdomen, where Keith’s eager mouth moves against his, and Lance can’t be bothered with rational thought. He cares even less about the reasoning when Keith presses closer and Lance’s mind short circuits with the thought, Holy Crow, his tongue’s in my mouth!

A sound builds up from somewhere deep in Lance’s chest, not quite a moan though not far off, but it’s muffled by Keith’s mouth, and he feels a smirk against his lips.

Bastard.

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