#i get ur having a friendship bro moment but. please go away i own this place alkdkdjjfjf🥲

[ghosty1111]

can the dudes at the playground like. leave. this is MY teen movie moment place???gtfo🤨

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Eight. "If you're the imposter, you are canonically Bugsy Siegel."

warnings: swearing word count: 2k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream xf!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: ahehahehoho ik sapnap didn't fly to dreams house before they moved in together but this is a fanfic and therefore what i say goes and i say he did :) hope you enjoy!!!!!!

**********

"SAPNAP!" Y/n yelled into her phone, smiling against the cool device.

"Bugsy!" he said with a laugh.

"You're with Dream?"

"Yeah, you wanna say hi?"

"No, give the phone to Patches!!"

"She literally hates me. She runs away when I see her."

Y/n laughed and heard a voice of protest in the background.

"Dream claims it's because she's shy but she literally hissed at me in my nightmares so I think we have bad blood."

Y/n giggled and balanced the phone between her shoulder and cheek. "You're still on for Among Us tonight, right?"

"Yeah, why? What's up?"

"I was just checking since you're visiting Dream apparently. I don't want to take away from your bro time or whatever."

"Oh, nah, it's good. I'm only here so we can look at places to live together and stuff. He told you I'm moving in with him soon, right?"

"Yeah! That's awesome!"

"Yeah. But, yeah, I love playing games with you! Besides, he has his stupid George plug-in to finish still so I'll be bored. So yes, of course I'm still playing, Bugsy!!!!"

"I've never made a lobby before so I'm just nervous," she said, the feeling evident in her voice.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure none of them pull that stupid prank we pull with Quackity all the time when we tell him we're leaving and pretend like he's muted. It always drags on for like half an hour."

"Okay, good. I'm literally so scared already I don't need hooligans messing with me."

"Don't worry, I got you, Bugsy."

"Thanks. Hey, can you tell Dream he sucks?"

Sapnap groaned. "I don't wanna be your messenger for your love letters to each other."

"Sapnap!" she exclaimed. "No, just... tell him he sucks."

She listened as Sapnap's voice became muffled and she heard him relay the message. A loud, "BUGSY!!" was heard in Dreams voice and she giggled.

"He's dramatically appalled. He said—you know what, no. You guys can talk to each other on your own phones. I'm not being a delivery boy."

"Boo, no fun. I'll let you go so you can hang out with Dream but I can't wait for the game!"

"Me too! See ya Bugsy, love you."

"Love you, Sap!!"

**********

**********

Y/n drummed her fingers lightly against her desk as she waited for people to join her stream. She was muted, her viewers only left with the sounds of the music she played and the image of her commissioned "starting soon!!" screen. She double-checked the Discord call she was deafened and muted in to make sure her friends were actually there before unmuting her stream and welcoming everyone.

"Chat!!" she announced happily. "Hi! Hello! Welcome one and all to my stream!" She glanced at the chat which was filled with welcomes and announcements of everyone's excitement. She thanked everyone that had donated and gifted subs before checking her surroundings, even though it wouldn't be shown on stream.

She was bundled in a hoodie, her comforter from her bed wrapped around her and trapping her in a cocoon. The lights were off except a candle on her desk and her fairy lights around her room. It was all very serene. She was ready.

A dono came through and she laughed at the question. "Why isn't Dream joining? Um, because he said no. He doesn't have time for me," she joked, recalling them teasing each other about making time for one another. "This just in: Dreamwastaken hates BugsyGames."

Moments later, a $20 dono came through from Dream saying, "not true".

"Dream!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "You can donate and stalk my stream but not play with us? Very rude. Get off my stream and go finish coding, nerd." Despite her words, she couldn't stop smiling.

"Alright, folks! Listen up, today is gonna be so fun. We got Karl, we got Quackity, we got Tubbo, Ranboo, Sapnap, George, Schlatt, Corpse, Sykkuno," she took a dramatic breath and paused, making sure she wasn't forgetting to mention anyone. "Okay? It's gonna be so fun and I'm very excited!" She glanced at chat and smiled at all the positivity.

user4: SYKKUNO AND BUGSY YES

user5: corpse!!!!!! T_T

user2: omg watch out dream, we got another faceless man he might come for ur girl

user7: omg is this the first time bugsy is playing with tubbo and ranboo???

"Yes, I'm very excited to have Corpse and Sykkuno play today! I haven't played anything with them or Schlatt yet but I have played Minecraft with Tubbo and Ranboo not too long ago. So it should be fun!! Okay, let's join the vc!!"

She typed in the text channel that she was joining before unmuting and undeafening herself. Her headphones were immediately filled with voices speaking over each other, one louder than the rest.

"—aren't, but come on, there has to be something! We aren't blind!" It was Quackity. "Well, George is colorblind but—"

"Hey!" George protested of Quackity's fit of laughter.

"I think they'd be cute," Tubbo said.

"Me too!" Sykkuno's sweet voice rang.

"Quackity!" Karl shouted, exasperated. "I promise you they aren't actually dating! Like actually!!! She's my best friend and she would tell me if something was going on!!" His voice was desperate, almost as if he felt like Quackity was doubting his friendship with whoever he was talking about. Wait, Y/n was Karl's best friend. Were they talking about...

"Yeah, that and I'm literally in his house right now," Sapnap said. "That's two people who are close with the sources who haven't heard anything. I've literally asked Dream straight up to his face and he said no. And he's a terrible liar so I would be able to tell if he and Bugsy—"

"Hi everyone!!" Y/n said quickly, snapping out of wanting to listen to the gossip when she remembered she was streaming. She was worried about how detailed everyone would go into their theories and opinions of what sounded like her and Dream dating.

Where did they get that idea? she thought.

She didn't dare look at her chat in case they picked up on what the boys were talking about, which was very likely.

Quackity and Corpse started laughing loudly at Y/n's entrance while Tubbo stammered out an awkward, "Hel-hello Bugsy!" as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Oh, Tubbo, my sweet son, you could never do anything wrong.

"What are... you guys, haha, uh... talking about?" she asked slowly, hoping they would lie if they were talking about what she thought they were.

"The weather," Sapnap lied.

"Uh, uh, uh," Corpse stammered with a small laugh at the end.

"Tax evasion!" Ranboo shouted.

"Don't let these pricks lie to you, Bugsy," Schlatt said casually, his mouth clearly full of food. Probably a corndog or quesadilla or something. She tensed at his honestly, praying he wasn't going to blurt what they actually— "They're talking about you and Dream."

"M-me and Dream?"

"Are you dating? Yes or no?" he asked bluntly.

"Wha—n-no! No, we aren't."

"TOLD YOU!" Karl and Sapnap both yelled.

"Can we just.. play?" she asked with a laugh. She usually liked chatting with everyone before they played things on other people's streams but she was certain the topic was going to stay on her and Dream and she didn't want that. Bugsy and Dream... that has a nice ring to it, she thought before shaking her head to rid it from her mind. Weird.

"I do have one question, Bugsy," Schlatt said. "Bugsy... what is that? All I can think of is Bugsy Siegel."

"Because you're the most New York New Yorker on the planet," she groaned with a small laugh. "Bugsy just sounded cute, don't compare me to a mobster."

"Then don't name yourself after one."

"Please can we play?" Y/n groaned. "I just wanna play."

"Me too!" Tubbo agreed.

"This is why you're my favorite, Tubbo."

"Yeah, let's get this shit over with," Schlatt sighed among all the agreeing to start. "If you're the imposter, you are canonically Bugsy Siegel."

**********

"TUBBO!" Y/n yelled as the defeat screen appeared. The boy laughed as he sputtered out a defense. "You and Ranboo?? My own sons?! How did you guys get away with that? I literally said from the beginning that it was Ranboo and NO ONE listened to me!!"

"Sorry, mother," Ranboo apologized before laughing.

"I don't trust women," Schaltt said.

"Schlatt, why would I target Ranboo or Tubbo if I didn't have solid evidence it was them? I'd blame someone like Sapnap if I was imposter, not my own sons."

Tubbo laughed loudly and George giggled.

"You can't be trusted, Bugsy!" Quackity yelled. "You lie every other goddamn round!"

"BECAUSE I KEEP GETTING IMPOSTER!" she defended as she raised out of her chair slightly. She had never been so angry than when playing Among Us. It was a dangerous game for her. Her covers were thrown off of her body, abandoned at her feet, and her hoodie sleeves were pushed up. Good thing she didn't use a facecam because she looked like she could murder someone right then. "I have no choice but to lie!!!"

A new game started and she relaxed at the sight of her being crewmate again. She had already been imposter three or four times and they had only played six rounds.

She headed straight for the reactor to do her first task, closing out to see Sapnap silently standing behind her.

"Ah!" she yelled, jumping slightly. "You scared me, dude. Why... why are you being so cryptic?" No answer. "Ssssssssap.....nap?" she asked softly, confused by his uncharacteristic silence.

George walked in and stopped. "Why are you guys just staring at each other?"

"I was doing my task and turned around and Sapnap was here and he hasn't said anything. Sap?"

Shuffling was heard from his mic before he started moving again. "Hey guys!" he chirped as if he hadn't been super creepy moments before. "I was AFK, Dream brought me Chick-fil-a."

"Oh," Y/n breathed. "You looked super sus for a minute there, bud."

"Nah, I just got food," he said, voice muffled by said food to confirm. "Dream! Come say hi to your girlfriend!"

Wasn't Sapnap one of the ones that literally just argued with the group that Bugsy and Dream weren't dating?

Without further explanation, Y/n could hear footsteps coming from Sapnap's mic before Dream's voice came through. "Hi, Bug. Hi, George."

Y/n laughed, glad he greeted George too. Maybe that's who Sapnap meant in the first place? Why did she assume they were talking about her? Ugh, everything was confusing when she had butterflies in her tummy at the mention of Dream's name.

"I'm his favorite girlfriend," George teased, circling around Y/n's character.

"Also his only girlfriend," she said.

"Oh also," Dream's voice appeared again. "Sapnap's imposter."

Y/n and George ran away screaming, heading straight for the emergency button.

**********

Later that night, stream over and Y/n tucked into bed, she scrolled through Twitter and laughed at a Tweet Dream had posted. It was like it was made for her. She ran through her camera roll and found her favorite memes that applied to the request.

She smiled widely and giggled at the butterflies in her stomach when moments later, she received a text from the boy himself. Looks like he wanted her number for more than just to make a cabin vacation group chat (which had yet to be made, she noted).

**********

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**********

tags: OPEN (at the time) (if your name is in BOLD i couldnt tag you sorry!)

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[neoheros]

fuckboy! bokuto headcanons

— find the fuckboy! masterlist here ♡

the day you and bokuto met was one of the most annoying days of your life

hands down, even the thought of reminiscing what that day put you through is enough to send chills down your spine

it was your first year in a new school and work had already been piled on you mercilessly

you had plans on going to a high quality university once you graduated so you figured you’d better start on extra curriculars as soon as possible

of course when you joined the school newspaper and student council you didn’t really expect to end up being that busy

you, on the verge of tears: hi are you taking in member applications because i’m short on one sports activity and i really don’t want that to be the reason why my favorite uni rejected me because i’ll be damned if volleyball ruins my life and—

bokuto, alarmed: please stop crying

he was the only silver lining that day that made it worth it to recall how hard your first year was

now you’re both graduating and close as ever that you’re actually kind of thankful that you went through all that just to meet him

he wasn’t exactly the most attentive boy in class but what he lacked in academics he made up for in sports

when you saw him play volleyball for the first time, you were flat out star struck at his skills and that’s when you understood why so many girls would go after him

he had a reputation in school and you were well aware of the fact that hanging around him meant that getting hated by his numerous dates and flings

you didn’t care though, you were there to graduate and get a fantastic gpa like everyone expected you to

you told bokuto all this the first time he tried to hit on you and at first he was confused to why you’d turn him down but then you offered him to be friends instead and he was more than ecstatic to accept

so now you’re in the running to graduate senior year in the honor roll and all your references have been backed up by solid hard work and proof that you’re sure if the uni doesn’t accept you then it’s going to be their fault and not yours

you: at this point i’m gonna be the most eligible college applicant there is

bokuto: but at the cost of blowing me over every time i ask to hang out 😔

you: personally i find those to be the highlight of our friendship

being best friends with bokuto is quite literally the meaning of getting the best of both worlds

he was there to redirect your focus when you were clearly too frantic to remember your goals but he was also the one to drag you out for a break or two when you’re too deep in your head

“i’m with someone right now but i had to ask— have you eaten yet?” he says into the phone, smiling shyly at his date who’s kind enough to let him take a minute to himself.

you snort, “i have this new technique where i get through my chapters and diet at the same time and it’s basically a win win situ—”

you hear him sigh and mumble an apology to the person he was with, shuffling over the phone as you try to tell him you were gonna be fine

bokuto: i’m on my way and just so you know, you owe me

you: bro this was from your own volition

he snaps you a photo of him in his car with a gloomy expression, but you’re quick to notice the mcdonald’s sign in the corner

you snap him back, “if ur getting me food, get me a mcflurry too ok <3”

to which he replies almost too quickly with a picture of himself giving you a thumbs up and the caption, “i know i’m not an idiot”

he takes care of you a lot and sometimes you find yourself guilty for putting that obligation on him but he never fails to reassure you that it felt nice to be committed to someone every now and then

you: you know that you’d actually be a good boyfriend if you stopped slutting around right

bokuto: you know that you’d actually be a good girlfriend if you stopped dating your books right

you, defeated: touché asshole

when it came to you, you just didn’t have time to worry about relationships and whatnot

you saw how your friends would get obsessed over them and completely derail their futures just to live in the ‘now’ of it all

you obviously called bullshit on that but could they blame you? you had high expectations for your life and you were sure as hell not gonna let some guy take you away from that

besides, you were best friends with the guy that made girls believe in love and break their hearts in one weekend, if the universe wanted you to have faith in dating then maybe they should’ve thought this one through

your phone dinged, ruining the silence you so enjoyed as bokuto peered over your shoulder to see what it was about

“hi ! i’m from your class and i’ve always found you so pretty, would you mind going ou—” he read aloud in a laugh and you delete the message before he could finish

bokuto: yknow one of these days you’re gonna get murdered by one of your admirers who just couldn’t let anyone else have you

you: and i will thank them for that 😌✨

“if you’re turning down all these men because you’re waiting for me to ask you out then all you have to do is say so.” he grins, and it gets wider when he sees you divert all your attention towards him.

you look at him dead in the eye, “no.”

his expression drops, pointing at his heart as he pouts, “that’s hurtful.”

you roll your eyes, telling him all about the plans that you would rather prioritize over falling in love, going on and on about how it would bring you nothing but setting you back and all that

he could only cross his arms as he listens to you ramble, amazed at how you’re saying so many things and all of them were just flat out wrong

it used to hurt him when you talked about swearing off love but the more he listened to it over the years the more amusing it got

he knew one day you’d end up finding someone to love the way he thinks he loves you and maybe it’d be him or maybe it’d be someone you just haven’t met yet

one day you’d realize how important it is to feel and give love to those who mean much to you

maybe you’d even notice the signs that he’s been trying to give you all these years

but in the mean time, you were his problem to deal with, and he didn’t mind taking all the words you said about hating love as long as he could spend every moment of it with you.

[stiltonbasket]

Renouncement verse, jc bonds with his niblings. Jc forced on a misadventure with lz and reflects on those 3 months during the war and their changed relationship to each other (reminding him of his other bro in law), possible beginings of friendship? Sect leader yao get reckt? People reminded that wwx is incredibly kind just as he is incredibly badass? Love ur stories! :D

(author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

“I want to get out of here,” Lan Wangji growls. “We have been stuck for almost a full shichen.”

“We’re not in any danger,” Jiang Cheng points out, rolling his eyes. The two of them have been stuck in the lair of a spider demon for the last two hours, trapped by its resentful webs even after they gored it through the head and ripped its legs off; but the webs dissipate by themselves about four or five hours after the death of yaoguai that made them, so he and Lan Wangji just have to wait until they can get out. 

Oddly enough, Jiang Cheng had thought that Lan Wangji would be much better at waiting.

“I know we are not in danger,” his brother-in-law hisses—and isn’t that a kicker, knowing that he and Lan Wangji are technically related now. “I have a family to return to. We cannot stay here doing nothing until the webs disappear.”

“If we use our lingli to get ourselves out, we’ll exhaust ourselves, and it’ll take twice as long for you to get back to the Cloud Recesses. Just stay put and stop complaining.”

“If we use our lingli, I will at least be able to get a message to Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji snaps. “The little one may be coming now, for all I know! And Wei Ying will worry, besides!”

“He wasn’t even expecting you back until tomorrow,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, turning his back on him. “It was your idea to come here at night. We were going to speak to the villagers in the afternoon and start work in the morning.”

“That would have kept us away from home for an extra half-day.”

“Believe it or not, the Cloud Recesses can run itself perfectly well without you. Your brother can manage by himself for a night, and so can Wei Wuxian.”

The look Lan Wangji gives him is so poisonous that it would have made the spider yaoguai proud. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” Jiang Cheng returns, turning back to face Lan Wangji with his arms crossed over his chest. “Stop thinking that something’s going to happen to my brother because you’re not there. He can take care of himself.”

A shadow of mingled grief and anger passes over Lan Wangji’s eyes, and Jiang Cheng tries not to feel guilty at the sight of it. After all, Lan Wangji doesn’t have to say that Wei Ying has been taking care of himself since before the Sunshot Campaign—he was thrown into Luanzung Gang without a golden core to protect him, taught himself resentful cultivation and overthrew Wen Ruohan with it, and then he fled to the Burial Mounds and kept fifty people fed and clothed with his own labor while keeping them safe from the Jins at the same time. 

Wei Wuxian is so used to taking care of himself that he didn’t know how to accept it when his own lawful husband tried to assure him that he no longer had to worry for his future, or the futures of the children they have together. 

“I was already making plans to take myself out of the way after Lan Zhan found someone he really loved,” his brother told him once, after Jiang Cheng received word about the coming baby and flew to the Cloud Recesses to see if it was true. “I was hoping he wouldn’t until Xiao-Yu came of age, but separations do happen in the Cloud Recesses, and you put that divorce clause into our betrothal contract. It’s stupid, but even though I know now that he’s loved me all along, I...I still don’t know how to feel it’s true sometimes.”

“Is he not taking care of you?” Jiang Cheng had demanded, his hackles already rising in fury at the thought of Wei Wuxian’s husband making him feel abandoned. “I’ll have words with him if he is, you—”

“A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian chided. “It’s not like that.” And then he had gestured around him to the fluffy pillows and blankets layered all over his body and the vials of medicine at the bedside table, before casting a pointed eye at his own reflection in the mirror. “Xichen-ge said that such worries are normal with a child on the way, and I wasn’t so—well, worried—before the autumn. It should pass, and there are healers who train for that sort of thing if it doesn’t.”

That sort of thing might be why Lan Wangji is so desperate to return to Wei Wuxian now, if Jiang Cheng looks a little further than his brother-in-law’s point-blank refusal to let Wei Wuxian out of his sight ever since Mo Xuanyu brought him back to life about a year and a half ago. His brother hasn’t been well lately, what with being kidnapped right before he found out about A-Lan and the stress that the chilly Gusu winter had placed on his coreless body, and he doesn’t exactly have a good track record for keeping out of trouble whenever Lan Wangji is away from him. 

And the last time Lan Wangji was forcibly separated from Wei Wuxian, he and Jiang Cheng spent three months searching for him everywhere from Yunmeng to Qishan, forced into partnership by fear and hope and everything in between, and still half-certain that they would find nothing but a body when their search was over.

“Get Bichen and start chopping,” Jiang Cheng says abruptly, yanking Sandu out of its sheath and wincing as he feels the spiritual drain when it slashes a piece of web in two. “I’ll take the right, you take the front. We should be out in half an hour.”

__

Neither of them have enough lingli to travel back by sword, so they rent a pair of horses from a chain stable-owner and set their course back towards Gusu; the spider yao’s nest was in Moling, and Lan Wangji was obliged to attend to the matter as Excellency, and Jiang Cheng came along because he happened to be visiting the Cloud Recesses. Six hours later, they drop the horses off at the first chain stable they can find, and then they make their way through Caiyi town and up into the mountains. 

“I want to see my brother,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, holding up the package of beef bones he bought on the journey. “You’re taking care of him properly, I know, but—I just want to see him. And my niece.”

Lan Wangji lifts his eyebrow at him, but then his whole face softens as Wei Wuxian comes running down the path with Xiao-Yu in his arms, so delighted to see them both that his face seems to be lit by a tiny sun from within. 

“Lan Zhan!” he calls, leaping into Lan Wangji’s embrace and kissing him until Xiao-Yu starts wriggling in discomfort between them. “How are you, love? You didn’t have any trouble, did you?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head and returns Wei Wuxian’s kisses just as fervently, and then Wei Wuxian turns to Jiang Cheng and beams, hugging him so tightly that the breath flies out of his chest with a gasp.

“Will you stay until tomorrow, Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian asks, taking his hand and wrapping his other arm around Lan Wangji’s waist, while Xiao-Yu scrambles up onto Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “A-Hong just sent word saying that you haven’t had any summons today, so I thought…”

Jiang Cheng nods. He can feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes at the warmth in his brother’s voice, and the lump in his throat does not leave until much later that evening, when he goes to bed in one of the guest houses and stares up at the ceiling in an effort to fall asleep.

But then Lan Jingyi bursts into his room just before midnight, and drags him out of the guest house and up towards the infirmary. “What’s wrong?” Jiang Cheng demands, the moment he catches his breath. “Wei Wuxian—he’s not—”

“It’s happening!” Jingyi screeches. “Wei-qianbei asked for you, and Zewu-jun’s already started passing him spiritual energy—”

Jiang Cheng nearly faints dead away on the spot when Jingyi finally drags him into the healing ward and shows him to Wei Wuxian’s room. 

He’s about to become a jiujiu again.

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Kamino Arc, Kidnapping & Aftermath, Hurt/Comfort, Bakugou Gets A Hug

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Content warning for kidnapping, aftermath of violence. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

i’m gonna die (sent 19:08)

no seriously i’m this 👌🏻 close to losing it bro (sent 19:08)

aizawa’s voice is so zzzz and it’s like sir,, i’m begging,,,, (sent 19:09)

a little bit of energy. just a little bit (sent 19:09)

A nudge to his side, somewhat urgent.

shit brb (sent 19:10)

“Dude.”

Kirishima keeps his voice down to a hiss, shooting a glance at Aizawa’s turned back just in case. Hidden behind his pencil case, his phone shows Bakugou has read his messages – near-immediately, as always – before Kirishima locks the screen. His own face is reflected on sleek, innocent black.

Next to him, Kaminari is looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “Don’t dude me, dude”, he whispers back. “Texting in Aizawa’s class? D’you have a death wish?”

Next to Kaminari, Mina leans over her desk, clearly curious and uncaring of her notes crinkling quietly under her elbows. “You? Kiri, paragon of wholesomeness and sunshine, breaking the rules? Lemme guess, it’s because of Bakugou.”

Next to Mina, Sero joins the fray with a muted headshake. “So brave yet so reckless. Truly inspiring.”

“You can say that again. That guy’s scary, man.” That’s Kaminari again. He leans in conspiratorially, nodding at Kirishima’s phone. “You got Blasty’s number? How? He almost bit my head off when I invited him to the 1-A chat.”

“Uh, yeah? We’re besties. But guys…”

If they were anywhere else, Kirishima would let out a whine. All he wanted to do was keep himself awake by texting his bro, is that such a crime? Especially since Bakugou’s the only one of ‘em who is actually allowed out there, where the fun stuff is happening. It’s downright cruel to have a new challenge dangled in front of their eyes like the juiciest steak only to be dragged away to the equivalent of plain steamed broccoli. Or something.

Point is: Kirishima’s bored enough he could cry and Aizawa, bless his insomnia-plagued soul, is making it about a thousand times worse with his monotone mumbling while he continues to write whatever-the-fuck in chalk to illustrate his point.

Three mouths open simultaneously in what Kirishima knows will be a too-loud bout of teasing – a frantic gesture of his hand to shut up, shut up, shut up has identical grins bursting on his friends’ faces.

Grins that disappear the instant the familiar sense of Aizawa’s quirk washes over them. Uh oh.

Aizawa doesn’t even have to say anything. Not even a brief pause registers in his lecture yet Kirishima snaps to attention so hard his buttcheeks clench as he furiously scribbles down what’s on the board. Some sort of… diagram? (It’ll make sense later, Kirishima hopes. And if it doesn’t, there’s always his equally draconic tutor-slash-best-friend he can poke into helping him eventually.)

After a semester at U.A., everyone in 1-A is whipped enough that not a single word is breathed between them for a good fifteen minutes. Aizawa talks, they take notes.

Then the adrenaline wears off and Kirishima finds himself drifting once more, fingers automatically flicking the home button. There, over Crimson Riot’s confident grin, three new messages.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

pay attention (received 19:14)

ffs (received 19:14)

hope aizawa murdered your ass (received 19:16)

No surprises there. Well, the fact that Bakugou has deigned to reply just before a training exercise kind of is, and he even triple-texted which makes a sappy part of Kirishima’s brain think he must’ve rubbed off on him over the past months. The day Bakugou Katsuki discovers emojis can’t be far off now and it will be Kirishima’s greatest achievement to date.

He bites his lip to suppress an amused noise at that. Ignoring the incredulous stare from Kaminari to his right, Kirishima types.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

haha! i lived bitch (sent 19:32)

minus the bitch askdjfhsk sry (sent 19:32)

i’m just tired af lol (sent 19:32)

how’s things on ur end tho? (sent 19:34)

no asses left unkicked i’m sure (sent 19:34)

👊🏻💥💥 (sent 19:35)

Kirishima gets about a solid second to feel good about furthering his pro-emoji agenda before his phone is snatched away by rigid, white cloth. Wide-eyed, his gaze is met by a flat expression that exudes more exhaustion than any human should rightfully have to feel.

“Kirishima”, Aizawa says, as calm as ever. “How kind of you to lend me your attention.”

Lord have mercy. Whichever hell Aizawa is about to unleash on him, Kirishima will be in it for a while. And when that’s over, it’ll be Bakugou’s turn to have a field day with it.

Somehow, Kirishima is actually looking forward to that last part.

*

Then, a voice rings out in their heads. Aizawa jumps into motion. The villains strike.

Afterwards, all Kirishima can do is stand there and watch the forest burn. His phone is silent, held between fingers that won’t stop trembling no matter what he does. He unlocks, checks, locks, only to do it all over again a few minutes or seconds later.

Around him, everything is spinning out of control. Reality is too loud, too bright, already overwhelming where it waits to be acknowledged beyond the soothing green interface of his chat with Bakugou.

The messages are still there. Marked read until they aren’t, and Kirishima stares at that subtle difference like it’s the last thing tethering him to the ground. Blue tick, his best friend is fine. Grey tick–

Bakugou let Kirishima take a photo of him, once. Kirishima had complained about his profile picture being that creepy default silhouette, especially once they started texting on a daily basis. So Bakugou sighed and leaned over the tiny table of the café, his chin propped on one hand and his coffee in the other. He’d kept still just long enough for the shutter to go off and called him a clingy bastard right after.

In the soft morning light, there’d been something warm in his typical glare. It’s still there, tucked away in the top left corner of the screen. Fond, red eyes, looking straight at Kirishima ever since.

Higher and higher, the flames reach for the sky with greedy, cobalt fingers, bright enough to take the stars with them. And Bakugou?

Bakugou is gone.

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

hey (sent 23:01)

it’s a long shot but (sent 23:03)

are u there? (sent 23:03)

these are going thru so ur phone is on and i thought (sent 23:08)

idk (sent 23:08)

please respond man (sent 23:37)

please (sent 23:58)

katsuki? (sent 00:40)

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

fuck (sent 3:24)

*

Bakugou Katsuki

um (sent 6:13)

the pros asked for ur number to track it and stuff so i gave it to them (sent 6:13)

turns out almost nobody has it?? so like (sent 6:20)

if u want a new one after all this it’s on me (sent 6:21)

pls don’t be mad haha (sent 6:21)

fuck that actually (sent 7:05)

be as mad as u want baku (sent 7:06)

u can do whatever ok? when u come back (sent 7:09)

free pass. i won’t guard this time (sent 7:09)

just come back (sent 8:00)

they’re looking for u so u gotta come back (sent 8:02)

* 

Baku 💣💥

sry i just (sent 19:55)

ok still going thru (sent 19:55)

that’s good right? (sent 19:57)

i need it to be good (sent 20:05)

yeah (sent 20:06)

*

Baku 💣💥

it’s saturday (sent 2:33)

please be ok (sent 4:46)

i miss u (sent 5:00)

*

Baku 💣💥

we’re on our way katsuki (sent 12:45)

just hold on we’re coming for u (sending…)

wait (sending…)

oh (sending…)

*

Bakugou is quiet.

When all is said and done, injuries patched up and police statements given, Kirishima waits and Bakugou looks… tired. Small. Glancing back at the precinct with eyes a little too wide, a little too hesitant to truly belong to him.

Whatever he’s searching, if he finds it or not – Kirishima can only guess as Bakugou’s shoulders slump further and he mutters, “Let’s just go.”

In retrospect, he was probably talking to his parents. The Bakugous came for their son in a car as expensive as they come, white with chrome highlights and an interior clad entirely in tasteful, beige leather; it’s an aesthetic that’s the antithesis to Katsuki’s. Their expressions are full of love, though, brows drawn in concern carefully left unspoken. His father opens the back door for him first, going for his own in the front, while his mother ruffles Bakugou’s hair within the one-second-window he allows for the touch before shrugging it off.

“Welcome back, brat. We missed ya.”

Familiar phrases laden with far too much weight. From the outside in, it’s just that: Mildly exasperated parents picking up their kid after some school thing that dragged on into the night, or perhaps a late hangout with a friend. No one acknowledges the nightmare-ish three days they’ve left behind by the merit of time passing and the world spinning on and nothing else – the countless people injured or dead, an entire district torn asunder in a conflict much bigger than any of them, especially Bakugou.

Bakugou, who shuffles onto the backseat without saying much of anything. It’s only after Kirishima trails after him and Bakugou’s eyes meet his own over his shoulder that Kirishima realizes that’s what he’s doing.

Then Bakugou’s gaze softens and he kicks the door of the car open wider. “Um”, Kirishima pipes up, the noise of keys clinking together drawing his attention to one Bakugou Mitsuki. “Is it okay if I…?”

She snorts and ruffles his hair, too. “Kid, after what you did tonight, a ride home is the least I can do for ya. C’mon.”

Kirishima bows politely, a mumble of “Thanks, ma’am” waved away immediately. A moment later, Kirishima’s hand is being grabbed and he’s dragged inside. “Get a move on”, Bakugou mumbles, staring pointedly until Kirishima rights himself and digs for the seatbelt with his free hand. The click of the clasp snapping in is oddly loud in the ensuing silence.

It doesn’t last. The moment the engine purrs to life and the lights go off, a heavy guitar riff screeches from cleverly hidden speakers in perfect surround sound and Kirishima jumps. He’s the only one in the car to do so.

“Whoops, my bad”, says Bakugou’s mom as she turns the music down the slightest amount, her smirk – so familiar and yet not – clearly visible in the rear-view mirror. Next to her, Bakugou’s dad chuckles and shakes his head.

Bakugou himself is turned towards the window, the hand against his chin barely hiding the tiny smirk there. Kirishima lets him have it. Anything that’ll replace that lost expression from earlier is good in his books.

“So. Eijirou, right? Nice to finally meet ya.” Mrs. Bakugou checks in with him via the mirror. Her hand rests on the gear selector. “Where to? We’ll bring you home first. I’m sure your parents are worried.”

And oh fuck, Kirishima hasn’t even thought that far ahead yet. When he snuck out of the house a lifetime ago, all his mind was able to process was getting to Bakugou, saving Bakugou, bringing Bakugou back. As much as both his mothers are angels in their own right, they’re also easily worried and twice as buff as him. There haven’t been many occasions which called for them to throw down for their son but they totally would if given half the chance.

If they catch wind of even a fraction of what Kirishima got up to tonight, someone will have to pay. Kirishima’s willing to bet his most prized, limited-edition Crimson Riot figurine that that someone will end up being all of U.A., nationally famous pro heroes or not.

Before any of that can make it out of his mouth, Kirishima’s hand is squeezed and… Oh. Bakugou’s still holding it. Their skin isn’t touching; Kirishima’s sleeve has been pulled down to prevent that.

(It’s one of those things Bakugou does, tracking who and what gets in direct contact with his sweat and how to neutralize it in time. It makes Kirishima’s chest ache that, despite everything that happened, he is still aware of small things like that.)

“He’s crashing at ours tonight”, Bakugou tells his parents rather gruffly. Still looking out the window like there’s nothing unusual about that at all, and Kirishima gapes at him in complete and utter surprise. Bakugou’s grip only tightens.

“Got a problem with that?”

Just like that, Kirishima finds himself able to process speech. “Nope! Not at all. Uh, that is– Mrs. Bakugou, Mr. Bakugou, can I?”

Bakugou’s parents look similarly caught off-guard. To their credit, they merely blink and look at each other, shrugging. Again, it’s the mother who speaks. “That’s Mitsuki and Masaru to you, kid. Let’s go home, then.”

And that’s that. They set off, the car’s movement a quiet thrum that’s drowned out by complicated drum solos and vocals barely scraping past outright growling. Any other day, Kirishima would’ve been ecstatic to finally get to meet the Bakugous. He’d hoard bits and pieces of knowledge about them – such as the fact that Katsuki’s taste in music runs in the family, what the hell – like a dragon does gold coins. The notion that Bakugou invited him to their first sleep-over ever would be the biggest treasure on that pile, for sure.

Because Bakugou Katsuki is anything if not cautious: with his quirk, with his time, with his trust. Because, after days of pacing his room and worrying himself sick and crying until exhaustion took him out, their plan worked.

They pulled it off, Bakugou is back and alive, and Kirishima’s allowed to stay by his side a little bit longer.

He’s here because Bakugou wants him to be and that… feels better than Kirishima can properly put into words. So, no, he doesn’t boast about it, he doesn’t have the energy to – but Kirishima notes and appreciates it nonetheless, relief forming a ball of warmth and light that radiates within him like a tiny sun got stuck between his lungs and his heart. Bit by bit, it melts the tension off Kirishima’s bones until all he can grasp is the steady presence of Bakugou’s hand in his and how heavy his eyelids feel.

Kirishima could sleep for a week straight and still crave a nap afterwards. Probably.

There’s something he has to do before he crashes, though. With a gentle squeeze, he frees his hand to grab his phone and winces at the dozens of unread messages and missed calls that greet him. Both the group he has with his family as well as the one for 1-A have been running hot most of the night, reducing his battery to a pitiful 12%.

Opening up the chat with his moms, Kirishima scrolls to the bottom of the increasingly worried barrage of texts and hesitates, his fingers hovering over the keypad. Once he starts typing, he’ll have about a minute before shit really hits the fan.

💪🏻Kirishima Power 💪🏻

guys i’m so sorry!!! (sent 21:58)

i know ur worried and stuff and i swear i’ll explain later ok?? (sent 21:58)

 just wanna let u know i’m safe!! staying over at baku’s tonight (sent 21:58)

he’s here and safe too (sent 21:58)

🙏🏻🙏🏻 (sent 21:59)

He pauses then, reading that last part over and over again. Safe. Safe, safe, safe. A smile cracks Kirishima’s lips apart and it remains there, steadfast through the flood of new messages rolling in.

*

Bakugou’s room is both everything Kirishima expected it to be and at the same time… not.

It’s huge, for one, the typical bed-wardrobe-desk setup expanded by a couch and a beanbag, a TV with a variety of game systems hooked up to it, a handful of shelves filled to the brim with books and manga and oh, a whole freaking drum set taking up a corner by itself. The walls are plastered with band posters and signed set lists and – less blatant but still there – the odd All Might merch Kirishima knows Bakugou would strangle him for mentioning, so he doesn’t.

What comes out of his mouth is: “Dude! I didn’t know you played drums. That’s so cool!”

Everything is kept in the triad of black-orange-green Kirishima recognizes from a certain hero costume. A few discarded shirts aside, it’s really tidy. So much so that Kirishima feels ashamed of the state of his own room just by seeing this.

The feeling is compounded by Bakugou picking up those shirts and throwing them in the hamper first thing, a quiet tch indicating he’s annoyed by it. Kirishima isn’t up to outing himself as an unrepentant walking mess in comparison – instead, he makes a beeline for the bookshelf with the manga, eyes drawn to a row of covers he’d recognize in a heartbeat.

“Wha– I’ve been looking for these for ages! They’re sold out every time I try to catch up on ‘em.”

A short glance at Bakugou is answered with a shrug and an eye-roll: It’s Bakugou-speak for do whatever the hell you want. Kirishima pulls out the volume he stopped at and leafs through it.

It’s meant as a distraction for Bakugou, a space for him to drop the put-together façade and breathe without people constantly fussing over him. It’s honestly what Kirishima would rather be doing right now (exploring his best bro’s room be damned) but it’s not what Bakugou needs. Well, what Kirishima thinks he needs.

It’s hard to get a read on him without the constant snark and pointed glares. With some dinner in their bellies and Bakugou’s parents now safely downstairs, the expression that fits nowhere on the Angry Bakugou Face catalogue is back. Kind of uncomfortable and so… absent.

Kirishima is really starting to hate that expression.

It’s entirely accidental that Kirishima actually gets into reading. One chapter turns to three, turns to five, and the troubles and worries whirling ever-tighter in his chest ease for a bit until–

Woosh. A soft, balled-up something knocks against the back of his head. Kirishima startles and almost drops the manga, a vaguely alarmed noise stopped short by the sight of Bakugou in sweats and a well-worn, black shirt. His hair is wet. Wild as ever. At Kirishima’s feet: A similar outfit including a towel.

“Bathroom’s that way. Leave your clothes out by the door, I got special detergent for the nitro. Shampoo and shit’s in the shower, there’s a toothbrush for you by the sink. Use it.”

Kirishima opens his mouth.

Bakugou sighs. “It’s just a fucking toothbrush, Kiri. Wreck it for all I care.”

Kirishima closes his mouth. He nods. His phone is quickly dug out of his pocket and set aside, then he slips out to shower.

A good fifteen minutes later, he opens the door to let out a gust of steam and sees his clothes are gone. The hallway is empty, half-lit by the light coming from downstairs. The Bakugous have been as nonchalant about their spontaneous guest as Bakugou himself; even so, Kirishima tries not to linger or make too much noise as he sneaks back to Bakugou’s room.

“Baku. I’m back.”

Bakugou gives him a grunt of acknowledgement from where he’s fitting some sheets over the couch, folded out to provide a decently sized bed. There’s a pillow and a pile of blankets next to him, wrapped in fresh linen as well. It’s unlikely he’s stopped doing stuff since Kirishima left and if he is about ready to crash in five to ten minutes, he can’t imagine how Bakugou is doing right now.

Y’know, the guy who just survived being kidnapped by Japan’s newest and most notorious villain menace. No amount of pretense can make that simple fact undone.

Kirishima pads over to help, the offer to take over already on his lips but– Too late. The last corner is already being tucked in and laid flat with grim-faced efficiency. Left with nothing else to do, Kirishima sits down on the very edge, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the hem of his borrowed shirt. There’s some sort of band logo on it, an English word written in that typical death-metal-font that looks like someone dumped a bunch of white sticks in a pile and called it a day.

It’s soft. A little loose and frayed around the edges.

“Hey, Baku?”

Taking the blankets, Bakugou dumps them in Kirishima’s lap. “Mh?” He makes to step away and Kirishima doesn’t think, just reaches out and catches the back of his shirt.

“Dude, seriously. Just… sit down for a minute. Please?”

And Bakugou… listens. He stops, he frowns at Kirishima for a moment like he’s trying to figure out what his deal is, he sighs like he’s been presented with the world’s most aggravating puzzle – and then he tells Kirishima to scooch. “What? I’m not gonna sit on the fucking floor”, he says.

Kirishima can’t keep the relief off his face as he gladly makes room on the couch, leaning against its arm and tucking his legs in. Once Bakugou has settled, cross-legged with an elbow propped on the backrest, Kirishima throws the blanket over both of ‘em. Might as well get comfortable while they still can.

“Okay.” He steels himself with a long, slow breath. “I know you hate this kinda thing and we’re both tired and… stuff. Still, though: Are you okay?”

Bakugou gives him a look, which– Okay, fair. It’s a dumb question with an obvious answer. Kirishima doesn’t back down, though, humming to buy himself some time to rephrase.

“Like… It’s fine if you’re not. Okay, I mean. And if you’d rather go the fuck to bed and not think about this for a while that’s fine, too. But that was pretty rough and you’ve been, um, quiet. And stuff. So, I’m kinda worried. Y’know?”

Kirishima pauses. A bit lower, he mumbles: “And I missed you. So yeah.”

At some point, he dropped his gaze to his hands, limp and useless in his lap. Kirishima swore not to be a coward anymore but it’s hard, to speak and ask about things in full awareness he has no fucking clue what he’s doing.

All he wants is for Bakugou to be okay. That’s all that matters, at the end of a day like this.

“I’m not”, Bakugou says, tentatively. Like he’s making up his mind as he goes. “I’m not gonna waste your time with ‘I’m fine’. I’m not. This shit’s fucked up.” And again he sighs, sounding so fucking tired Kirishima’s heart squeezes in sympathy.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days; my shoulders are killing me from using my quirk and sitting chained to that stupid chair and whatever the fuck else. The League scouted me specifically because they thought I’d make a good villain and fuck them for that. Fuck them. But it’s just… It’s whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Whatever Kirishima expected, it’s not that. He looks up and into Bakugou’s eyes and–

He can’t mean that, can he? Kirishima searches his face for evidence to the contrary, traces the tension around Bakugou’s mouth and the exhaustion smudged under his eyes and the line between his brows, growing deeper under Kirishima’s scrutiny. It all reads defeat. It hurts.

They won, right? A childish voice within Kirishima can’t help but cling to that even as he looks back down. They won, and things are supposed to get better when you win.

“People got hurt. People died, Kiri. Heroes, too.” Bakugou takes a shaky breath, a hand going to his hair and rubbing it roughly. “Fucking… Best Jeanist was there and nobody at the precinct wanted to tell me if he’s alive or dead or what. All of Kamino Ward is fucking gone and All Might–”

Bakugou’s voice cracks right down the middle and it hurts. Like there’s a beast tearing through Kirishima’s chest to rip out his heart and throw it to the floor, stubbornly beating as it bleeds out.

Kirishima wants to say something. Anything. All he can hear is Bakugou’s breathing but it’s all wrong, off-rhythm and thread-bare and upset, and any doubt what that means is erased as Bakugou’s hand clenches on the sheets and he sniffs, wet on the exhale.

“Baku–”

“Don’t. Kiri, don’t–”

He’s always been like that, ordering him around and demanding things when politeness dictates to ask for them instead. His tone is as close to pleading as Kirishima’s ever heard from Bakugou, though, and it twists him up inside to the point he feels distantly nauseous.

“Don’t look.” Bakugou isn’t supposed to sound like that. Not now, not ever. “Okay? Don’t f-fucking– Don’t look at me right now.”

“Okay”, Kirishima says. “I won’t.” His own voice is a mess as well, trembling all over the place. “I won’t, Nitro. I won’t.”

You’re safe, is what he wants to tell him. It’s okay, you’re safe now. That’s not what Bakugou is asking of him. Kirishima can’t stop himself from crying because it’s always been hard not to when the people he loves are doing it, but… He tries. For Bakugou, he’ll always try.

Through eyes heavily clouded by tears, he sees Bakugou’s hand tighten, knuckles going white and bloodless. Painfully tense, and Kirishima can’t stand the sight of that, either.

He shuffles a little closer to place his hand over that fist, careful to only touch the back of Bakugou’s hand. Kirishima whispers, “I’m here”, and Bakugou audibly swallows. He lets him slip his fingers in-between his own.

Holding on, just as he did in the car and when they met in mid-air, that desperate instance that decided whether he would make it out alive or not.

Bakugou holds on even as he breaks for good and his shoulders shake with his sobs. As he continues to breathe in gulps of air that sound strangled and desperate, through tears that leave a pattern of uneven dots on the blanket. By morning they will be gone without a trace: The sun will come up, the world will continue to travel around it, and time will reveal the road they walk on as they walk it, step by step by step.

Just because it’s meant to pass doesn’t make this moment any less real. Any less important. Kirishima sits there and listens to his best friend cry. He remembers days spent without him and the mad dash to save him. He thinks of dumb questions and obvious answers.

It’s hard to tell if this is one of them, so he gathers all his courage and asks: “Katsuki. Can I hug you?”

Just like last time, Bakugou doesn’t say anything. He laughs, a watery, humorless thing – and he pulls at Kirishima’s shirt to crush him to his chest. His arms wind around Kirishima’s neck, Bakugou’s face pressing against his hair where Kirishima won’t be able to see him.

It’s fine. Kirishima’s great at hugs; he can totally work with that. Clenching his eyes shut, he adjusts his grip around Bakugou’s waist so he can rub his back, following the bumps of his spine. Up and down, over and over. Bakugou goes boneless in their embrace, not about to let go anytime soon and neither will Kirishima.

Eventually, Kirishima tucks his head against Bakugou’s shoulder, blinking sleep from his eyes. Safe. He doesn’t fight the sharp-toothed smile on his lips. Bakugou mumbles, “Fucking sap”, nearly drowned out by their collective sniffling.

It sounds a whole lot like thank you. Kirishima’s smile only grows.

>>Chapter 5

[guard-the-yard]

Now and forever

Roman reigns X Reader series

Roman and you have been friends for years, you’ve been there through all the rough and hard times with each other but what you didn’t realise is how he truly felt about you and what he would do to see you happy. Yet he has to see you “happy” with someone that isn’t him.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, small moment of abuse

Hello guys just want to say that this is my first fanfic, I’m open to suggestions and if you have anything you’d like to see in the series or ideas on their own let me know!! I apologise if it’s a bit bleh but it will get better I promise

........................................

Romans point of view

Being a WWE superstar was hard work, so many hours of training but it was all worth it to do something I loved. I never got much time off but whenever I did you would catch me with my best friends and shield brothers Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins and my favourite diva Y/N L/N. They are the closest people to me other then my family but you get my point. I’d just finished a long training session when I saw a text from Y/N.

Y/N: “hey it’s me are you still at the gym?”

Roman: “hey! Yeah I’ve just finished up, what’s up?”

Y/N: “can I come over to your place? Please?”

That’s weird...she never asked she always just turned up...somethings wrong and I need to find out what.

Roman: “sure you know where the spare key is. What’s up?”

Y/N: “I just don’t want be on my own tonight”

Roman: “okay I’ll be there in 20”

Y/N: “thank you”

I’m worried...somethings defiantly wrong I go to call her when Dean and Seth come over.

“Hey we are gonna go grab a beer you in?” Seth asked me.

“No uh Y/N is going to my place so I’ll probably just chill with her tonight she seems like she needs it”

Dean looked at me with a smirk on his face.

“It’s not what you think bro, she said she didn’t want to be alone”

“You think it’s her asshole of a boyfriend?” Dean asked. It wouldn’t of surprised me I never liked the guy none of us did. There was something about him we didn’t like but she loves him and I just want her to be happy.

“Just make sure she’s okay bro yeah? Well...of course you will” he said with a smirk

I should probably point out that yes I do have feelings for her I know it’s cliche right? Well...it happened...I’d give anything to be with her and hold her in my arms and have her be mine. Anyways when I got to my place I had a bad feeling I just wanted her to be okay. I put my keys in the door and walked in, it was quiet normally she’s already at the door and hugging me. I set my bag down and called out to her.

“Y/N?! You here??”

That’s when I heard sniffling, I walked into my room and found her curled up on the bed it broke my heart to see her like this. I laid down next to her and hugged her close to my chest.

“Come on sweetheart...I’m here...what happened?”

“I-im not good enough Ro...if I was h-he would have been home with me...n-not out g-getting drunk” she cried into my chest, setting my shirt with her tears.

“Hey don’t talk like that okay? He probably just needed a break that’s all and he just went too far now come on, you and me are going to order in some food and then we are gonna watch some movies okay?”

She just nodded and wiped her eyes, she’s still so beautiful even when she’s crying how is that possible? Either way I was determined to make her feel better one way or another. I woke up to a loud banging coming from my front door when I saw that it was 4 am you could understand my confusion so I got up and answered it, god how I wished I didn’t as I was met with the face of a very drunken idiot and yes I’m talking about Y/Ns boyfriend Alex.

“What the hell are you doing here? You can barely stand”

“I came to get my girl, I know she’s here she always runs to you when I’m not at home” I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“So where is she??!!” He pushes me to the side as he stumbled in. “Get ur ass here we are going home!!”

“She’s not going anywhere with you, not until you sober up” I couldn’t trust him and I wanted her to be safe. Until I heard her soft voice.

“It’s okay Ro I uh I should probably go”

“Wise choice, you’re driving” he had this evil smirk on his face when he looked at me. “Stay away from my girl she is mine” with that they both left, she didn’t even say goodbye it’s so quiet now. I watched them both get into the car and drive off.

Y/Ns point of view

The drive home was quiet Alex could barely keep his eyes open which I was thankful for it meant that when we got in he would leave me alone and just go to sleep...or so I thought.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere near him! You hear me?! He is a fucking waste of space and I don’t like him!”

“He is my best friend Alex he has been there for me for years I’m not dropping a friendship just because you don’t like him!”

That’s when I saw his eyes turn black. He stalked closer to me making me back up against the wall, my breath quickened I knew what was coming but it didn’t mean it was going to hurt any less.

“Listen here you little bitch” he grabbed my throat and pinned me against the wall, I couldn’t breathe my chest felt like it was tightening by the second. “Yo u will do what I say, you will stop talking to him you will stop seeing him if not” he squeezes even tighter. “Well you know what will happen” with that he let go and let me fall to the flor to regain my breath. I couldn’t leave Roman behind but I had to.

[joyxsoul]

han jisung as ur boyfriend

-lmao there’s so many of these, but here’s another !! (highschool au rlly lol)

-okay, so u two met at school in ur senior year. he was a class clown type, always making jokes, being loud with his friends annoying every one of his teachers along the way.

-bUt, you made him soft !! like the instant he saw you, a little smile was on his face, making his friends (especially his best friend Felix) tease lil jisung, wondering who, or what could have made him this flustered

-i mean, he stopped talking for a full two hours after he saw you, your power

-anyways !!

-you had a couple of classes together, being history and english, and jisung just loved to watch you whenever there was free time between lectures

-it sounds hella creepy (it kinda was), but the way you scrunched your nose when you were concentrated, or your smirk when you finally figured something out or finished a project made his heart jump in his chest

-you were making THE han jisung shut up

-(like i said, your power :3)

-eventually, he grew the courage to talk to you (which included a pep talk from all of his closest friends, making him stand in front of the mirror and scream, “YOU ARE THE SHIT !!”)

-his tactic was to start with a pick-up line, a very classy, “on a scale of one to america, how free are you tonight ?” 

-hyunjin cringed listening to that one, seungmin was sure jisung had blew it and was gonna beat his ass after

-you were a bit surprised; you two weren’t in the same friend group and you hadn’t been seated together at any point

-but you DEFINITELY knew who he was bc who in this school didn’t know his group (a weird combination of crackheads, intellects, and stoners)

-i’ll let you decide who the stoners are in skz ;)

-being as easygoing as you were, you just laughed, responding with “are you from tennessee ? because you’re the only ten i see”

-jisung thought he was going to piss his pants he was so nervous 

-glad that he hadn’t completely ruined his image in front of you, he pulled out the empty chair beside you and struck up a conversation, most likely something related to the substitute asleep at the teacher’s desk

- you guys began to talk more often, working together on various projects, “studying” in the library (all it was was him pointing out random people in a textbook and saying, ‘that’s you’), and sitting together at lunch

-one night, he was facetiming you about homework for your history class. it was probably around 10 pm, and he spent most of the call complaining about how the pizza place messed up his order and gave him pepperoni instead of cheese 

-he had this gray hoodie on; he looked so tired and you constantly fussed over how he should get some more sleep, but he looked so cute in-

-wait did you just call him cute

-you couldn’t lie, jisung was attractive; his almond shaped eyes, his heart shaped mouth, his fluffy long hair, how his nickname was ‘quokka’ due to his face and his personality, how he texted you every morning and night, the way he said your name-

- “y/n ? is something wrong ? stop staring at my face.”

-oh shit you have a crush on han jisung

- “i told you to stop staring !! what, you have a crush on me or something ?” you shook yourself out of it, staring at him through the screen with wide eyes

-he was playing with the strings of his hoodie, his hair being messy with all the times he ran his hand through it. it was a habit you always rolled your eyes at; he’d obviously spend time in the mornings to make it look nice, only for him to ruin in ten minutes into talking about the cold war

-your other friends (wendy and lucas in particular) always teased you about your relationship with jisung

-”DO YOU SEE THOSE PUPPY EYES ?? LOOK AT HIM STARING AT YOU! !”

-”lucas please shut up.”

-but when you did look, jisung was staring at you, his smoothie straw hanging out of his mouth

-you couldn’t help but laugh at how dumb he looked

-and wow, you almost thought you saw his cheeks turn pink when you giggled 

“i know i wasn’t the only one who saw that.” lucas was looking like he was going to cry, wendy just looked fed up

-you didn’t know when your crush on him started. in those seconds of silence where you and jisung were just ogling at each other through the phone camera, you reflected on where it could’ve all gone wrong

-was it the time he held your hand when he was walking you home when an older man got too close for your liking ? or was it the time you were hanging out at his house and he fell asleep on your lap, only to smile in his sleep when you began running your fingers through his hair ? or was it the time when you two went out for boba tea when the waitress said you were a cute couple, only for him to smile and say, “thank you.”

“..y/n ?”

-”jisung, i have a crush on you.”

-silence

-pure silence

-oh my god, you messed everything up. the screen had gone black, you didn’t hear anything. building up your courage, you actually saw that he had hung up the phone, the numbers taunting you. 

-call ended  2:29

-you didn’t know what to do. your body felt numb, all sounds muted. you could only focus on a car passing by, a bird flying against the wind, the soft raindrops against the window.

-what are you supposed to do ? you had just lost the one person who you cared about the most. you two had known each other for a little over two months, but you'd already grown extremely close. you told him everything, he trusted you.

-and you fucked up a perfect, amazing friendship.

-the rain was getting heavier now, but you didn’t mind. it was always comforting to listen to, especially when you felt upset. your parents weren’t home until sunday, and as it was a saturday night, you had plenty of time to cry it out.

-”Y/N !!”

-god, you were going crazy, you swore you just heard jisung’s voice

-”Y/N !! PLEASE LET ME IN ITS RAINING AND I’M TIRED”

-dumbfounded, you looked out your bedroom window to find jisung, still wearing his gray hoodie, a little drenched, with pebbles in his hand

-oh wow he rlly went full rom com with this one

-rushing downstairs, you pulled open the front door, only to be attacked by a hug from jisung, giggling to himself in glee

- “i got here as fast as i could, i need you.” with that, he pressed his lips against yours, still wet from the rain. he smiled into it, letting out a chuckle when you kissed him back. you pulled away quickly though, the blush on your cheeks turning into a full on tomato. jisung pouted, you poking his face as he flushed pink

- “in case you couldn't tell, i like you too. thought it was obvious.” he elbowed you, leading you up to your room while muttering “this isn’t real, this isn’t real”

-”you sleepy ?” you asked, making room for him on the bed. he just nodded, saying the homework could wait

-it was a little past midnight, and all you wanted to do was sleep. you climbed in, turning off all the lights, feeling jisung’s arms snake around your waist. he put his head into your neck, humming a song that wasn't familiar. just feeling his breath on your neck was making you drift off

- “goodnight sunshine, i’ll see you in the morning.” he placed a lazy kiss on your cheek, and drifted off.

-when it came to you two actually dating, no one was surprised (except mark, but he was oblivious at the best of times). the rest of skz couldn’t care less about what you looked like; they all knew how happy you made jisung and really, that’s all that matters

-jisung was always clingy, but dating him made it worse. he was always nearby, wanting to hold your hand, wanting to play with your fingers; basically any excuse to touch you. if you don’t like pda, he would definitely respect that, it made all those moments you shared with him that much more special

-he always had a nickname for you, but ever since you had first met, ‘sunshine’ had stuck. you never knew why, but jisung just thought you glowed, even at 3 pm on a school day or 7 am on a weekend because wow he loves you

-more than anything, he loved when you played with his hair, whether you were just touching it, or running your hands through it

-he might have liked it a bit too much, but uh you were not ready to venture down that path

-jisung would also spray his cologne on all of the hoodies he gave you because he knows how much you love it

-you have SO MANY OF HIS HOODIES IN YOUR HOME

-it’s not funny

-you keep telling him to take them back, but he doesn’t want them ?? “cooties bro. can’t.”

-you aren’t complaining, they’re comfy >:((

-jisung teases the ShiT oUt OF yOU

-like one day you came into class with your friend acting cute in an attempt to steal some of her hot cheetos

-only to have HEADASS just stare at you blankly, exclaiming “you look mentally unstable” while he laughed at you

-this along with doing middle school boy shit

-i’m talking taking your notebook and hiding it in another spot of the classroom, scaring you in the hallway, making you pull worksheets out of his hands while he passed them out

-think of ANYTHING that gives off middle school boy energy, he’s done it

-as annoying as he is

-he loves you. a lot. like, his main goal in your relationship is to make sure you’re happy with him, that you aren’t going to leave him because he isn’t putting the effort in

-you keep assuring him you love him, that you’d never do that to him. but no matter how many times he nods, or smiles

-there’s uncertainty in his eyes. because of that, he always assures you how beautiful you are, stays up all night if he has to when you pull an all nighter to study, gives you all the hoodies he can provide

-not only because he feels like he has to, but he’d do anything to see you happy; no matter how tired he feels 

-it breaks his heart to see you upset

-one day, you had gotten a test back while hanging out at jisung’s house, trying to help him study. you opened your score and your heart dropped. a 59%. that’s the worst you’d ever done. you had stayed up multiple nights to study, putting off your own personal needs in order to success

-it wasn’t enough. and that hurt

-jisung saw you start to cry and he  f r e a k e d

-oh god, his precious sunshine was crying and he didn’t know what to do

-he fumbled for a bit, saying, “it’s going to be okay !! it’s just one grade !!” only for you to cry harder and him to freak out even more

-eventually, he just hugged you from behind, laying you down on the couch. you were shaking so bad and it was making jisung tear up; he really hated seeing you like this 

-he knew talking wouldn't help, so he let you cry, wiping away your tears and rubbing small circles into your back. 

-”you’re okay sunshine, just hold onto me.” you always thought you didn’t deserve someone like him. someone so loving, so supportive. 

-but you love him. you’ve never loved someone like him; how dumb he sounded but always gave the best advice, always teasing you at any time during the day but shows up in front of your door with flowers just because

-and so when he sings “i smile” while caressing your cheek, you know there’s no place you’d rather be. in his arms, the vibration of his voice lulling you to sleep and just how warm he was

-and when you got to see him perform with the rest of his rapping group, your eyes just couldn’t leave him. his charisma, his confidence, how he’d always wink at you when he spotted you in the crowd. he was truly ethereal there, almost angelic in whatever he wore, because look at him

-almost nothing was better than seeing him backstage after a show to see him; him smirking when he’d pull you into his arms still sweaty when he’d whisper “missed you babydoll”

-no matter how much he’d nag you for staying up too late and not putting enough time into yourself, and no matter how much you’d nag him for not eating enough, you wouldn’t trade each other for the moon and all of her stars

-if soulmates existed, you were lucky enough to find yours in a shitty high school at 9:40 a.m. with a cheesy pick-up line

-but you wouldn’t have it any other way

AGHHHHH i really hope everyone liked this ?? ugh, it feels so rushed, but it’s really late here, so i hope i did sungie justice :((

[notagoodplace4gods]

ok but stozier where (this is overuse prob so sorry) rich starts really believing stan doesnt like him in their late teens bc of anxiety and stuff and starts to distance and heyoo flippin the script w/ stan coming in through the window like “wtf man??? ur literally my best friend ily” and then like back to stans and its just pure fluff bc heyo these boys mad in love and richies just like “holy shit ily wowowowoow” yike sorry ~✨

I’m so sorry for taking so long!! This is not exactly what you asked for, but I still hope you’ll like it! Here we go!

It’s on AO3

when stan starts avoiding richie after they went to prom together as bros, richie knows he’s fucked up

he doesn`t know how he fucked up, tho, because he was drunk as hell and he barely remembers what happened

when stan starts avoiding richie after they go to prom together as bros, richie knows he’s fucked up

he doesn’t know how he fucked up, tho, because he was drunk as hell and he barely remembers what happened

the losers can’t tell him what he did because “stan didn’t let you do anything embarrassing, he took you home the moment he realized you were drunk”

richie makes eddie pinky swear that he didn’t see him make a fool of himself at prom

Relieved by his answer, richie starts thinking that maybe stan’s just messing with him Maybe it’s just a joke and he decides to play along

“well let’s see how long he can pretend not to love me lol he won’t last a week”

stan lasts more than a week not talking to richie, barely acknowledging him in the group hangs

richie is low key worried and grows louder so he can draw stan’s attention by any means necessary, which means cruder jokes, over the top impressions, dirty flirting, but stan keeps ignoring him

richie goes from frustrated to angry really fast

and he complains about Stan to everyone, literally everyone but Stan The Man himself

“we don’t know anything richie, why don’t you talk to him?”

richie tries cornering stan after school one day, but stan keeps dodging his questions and answering with “I’m fine”s, which only pisses richie even more because he knows stan isn’t fine

“come on stanley I know you’re angry at me! what did i do?”

“why do you think the world revolves around you, richie? you didn’t do anything and we’re fine.”

“we’re not fine! God, stan, just tell me what I did so I can fix it! Was it because I drank too much and you had to take me home? Was it because I made you leave the prom earlier?”

“what? no richie, that was fine and… Wait, don’t you remember what happened later?” stan takes a deep breath and tries to mask the hurt on his voice. “You don’t.”

“I was drunk… I…”

“Sure, it’s okay, we’re okay, nothing happened, I just have to go.”

richie tries to stop him by grabbing his arm, but stan flinches away so fast richie’s freezes on the spot. Now he’s high key worried

now he knows he’s fucked up.

——————

richie kinda starts avoiding stan back after this, afraid he’ll make  things worse between them

he never asks the losers to intervene, but everytime he meets them, he asks if stan said anything about him

the losers have no idea what’s happening, and they hate it, so they make a plan to get both richie and stan drunk and talking

it’s very difficult getting them together, and moving past the awkwardness, but they do get them drunk, they all get drunk, one night at bill’s. and they’re playing truth or dare

when the bottle stops on stan, richie perks up at the possibility of stan picking truth so he can ask what did he do to make his best friend so mad at him

stan picks dare

for a moment richie’s devastated, but then ben whispers something in his ear and he takes his suggestion.

“I dare you to tell me why you’re mad at me.”

“that’s cheating.”

“It’s the game, you have to tell me.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“you are! just fucking tell me what i did!

“what didn’t you do, richie?” stan rolls his eyes. “you’re always so…” The alcohol is taking the words from him, so he just gestures at richie’s entire body, to make him understand. “You! It drives me crazy!”

richie’s taken aback. He knows he’s loud and annoying, but he never thought he bothered stan so much “I’m… I’m sorry,”

when they stop talking, the entire room does too. The only sound is when mike gets up, pulling bill along with him and gesturing the others to follow him. “Maybe we should leave you two alone.”

“no!” both stan and richie argue at the same time.

richie takes a deep breath. “come on, stan the man, I just wanna put this behind us and go back to being friends.”

“Friends.” Stan scoffs, and there’s so much venom in his voice, richie unconsciously recoils. “we’re best fucking friends”

richie doesn’t know what to answer, oh even what to feel, so he choses anger. “Fine! Have it your way then” and marches out of the party.

when richie’s anger drains away, he’s just really sad and hurt

the losers go to him the next day, begging him to talk to stan, saying that stan was miserable after he left the party, so “he doesn’t hate you.”

but richie just shrugs them off. stan does hate him. it was clear as day

but what could he have done that would upset stan so much? What was so terrible that ruined their friendship?

he tries his best to remember what happened after stan took him from the prom. He thinks about numerous possibilities, but nothing seems plausible

richie knows very well that he’s a cuddly, needy drunk. But Stan knows him, he’s used to the flirty jokes, the innocent (but not really) touches, and hugs

He remembers he always used to  call stan “love” and “honey” after a few shots, he remembers sitting on stan’s lap and throwing his arms around stan’s neck in other occasions, he remembers stan just shaking his head, lifting him up and making him drink some water before bed. Stan always acted annoyed but he never minded any of that

Not until prom night

Maybe richie crossed a line. Maybe he didn’t stop at the playful flirting and dirty innuendos. Maybe he drank so much, he turned his brain off, and let his heart unfiltered. Maybe he confessed. Maybe he told stan he’d been in love with him for years. Maybe he kissed stan

Oh fuck. oh no no no no nonononono

no wonder stan hates him now. no wonder he’s angry and disgusted and never wants to see richie again

richie wants to crawl up inside a hole and just die

—————-

richie knows stan has stopped hanging out with the others, so he does too

he secretly hopes that his absence will compel stan to return to the group

if anyone gets to keep the losers, if anyone deserves to keep the losers, it’s stan

plus, if stan finds his presence so unbearable, and hates him now, it’s just a matter of time before everyone else does too. If he can’t stop it from happening, then he better prepare himself for it

so he goes from school to home, and from home to school as quickly as he can, he avoids the quarry and the arcade so he won’t meet any of them

He misses them all, though. So much

But mostly he misses Stan

His best friend

the first friend he ever made

the boy with the sarcastic smiles and amazing sense of humour

the boy who always stood by him no matter what

the boy who’d always leave an open window for him to climb into at night

the boy who’d complain about how his bed was too small for them, but would never push richie away, or make him sleep on the couch

the shy quiet beautiful perfect boy richie admired and respected so much

the boy who’d smile at him, and make the stupid bucky beaver and his stupid trash mouth feel worthy and loved and worthy of being loved.

the boy he loved so much

the boy who didn’t love him back, not anymore

not ever

richie wonders if maybe stan misses him too, but the thought is so fucking unreal, he has to laugh.

all the handholding, the laughs, hugs, kisses on the cheek, richie ruined them

richie ruined their friendship

so why would it matter to stan

why would richie matter

spoiler alert: he doesn’t

richie’s loud and annoying and ugly as hell

stan deserves someone better

literally anyone would be better

probably a girl because stan can’t be as sick as he is

——————

the losers keep trying to talk to him, but he always manages to dodge their questions

Everyone is worried because richie looks awful ™ so they decide to do a intervention for them

but richie doesn’t show up to school the next day

Or the next

they’re going crazy with worry, because richie won’t answer his door either

stan is very worried too.

he feels terrible for how he treated richie the past few weeks. He was just sad, angry and bitter, but richie didn’t deserve the way he treated him

he tries calling richie on the phone, but every call goes to voicemail

stan knows it’s his fault.  He was the one who started ignoring richie first, but he’s so worried

He’s on edge all the time, can’t sleep properly, can’t eat properly, god, he’s a mess

He almost trips over himself when his own phone rings. Please be richie, he prays

It’s not richie

——————

bev is the one who gets richie to leave the house. she takes him for a smoke by the barrens

she told him it would just be the two of them

she lied

three cigarettes in, Stan arrives, and Bev excuses herself, mentally asking richie if he’ll forgive her someday

Stan quietly sits down next to richie, who refuses to look at him

They stay like this for a good half an hour. Stan looking at richie, richie looking anywhere but at stan

stan is about to cry, but he swallows the tears. This isn’t about him! This is about his best friend, who’s looking small and broken, and he has to fix it. He has to fix them

“I’m sorry.” He opens his mouth, but the words aren’t his. They are richie’s.

Richie’s apologizing to him

“fuck, stan, I think I finally know what I did to make you hate me, and, god, I’m so sorry.”

stan is speechless, terrified at the thought that maybe richie does remember that night

“I was never going to tell you, I was going to ignore it until it went away, but it’s been years, and it still hadn’t gone away, and I… I’m a horrible person… not worthy of being your friend

stan is offended. “Richie…”

“no… let me finish. I know what I did is unforgivable, and heinous and sick. And I’m so very sorry, but I can’t fix this. So it’s okay if you hate me and never want to see me again.I understand”

“richie!” Stan grabs his shoulders and shakes him a little.”What is it you think you did at prom?”

“you don’t have to do this.” richie shakes his head. “I know I… I kissed you. Didn’t I?.”

Now Stan starts crying. “No. no you didn’t.”

richie’s eyes go so wide it would be comical in any other situation

“Fuck. then you’re just mad at me for a stupid joke, or whatever and I went and spilled my feelings for you, instead of just apologizing. Now you hate me for real, and…”

“I don’t hate you, I never did and I never will.” Stan cuts him off.

richie nods dumbly, not letting himself feel relief because the fact stan doesn’t hate him does not necessarily means that stan likes him back.

“Do you wanna know what you did that made me so mad?” Stan waits for richie’s nod before continuing. If richie said what stan thinks he said, telling him about this should be easy. “You fell asleep.” It’s not

silence

richie does his best not to break it because he knows stan’s not finished

“I took you home, and tried to get you to bed. You didn’t want to. You wanted to dance.” Stan smiles at the memory. “I asked what could i possibly do to convince you to go to sleep and you asked me to cuddle you.”

richie cringes. well that was embarrassing

but it’s not the end of the story

“so I did. we laid down at your bed, and we were so close, I…” Now it’s stan’s turn to take a deep breath. “I kissed you, Richie. I kissed you, you kissed me back, but then you fell asleep mid kiss and I…”

richie’s heart stops, and he finally looks directly into stan’s eyes

“I was so ashamed, I couldn’t face you after this.” now it’s stan who diverts his eyes. “And then you told me you didn’t remember and I was so hurt, so angry. I mean, I knew you were drunk, I took a chance, but I still… God, richie, you were my first kiss.”

“stan.” richie kneels, and moves next to his friend, his best friend, the boy who, for whatever reason, loves him back, and takes his face on his hands. “stan, I’m sorry I’m so stupid.”

“It’s okay, richie.” Stan tries. “You were drunk, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of that, then felt sorry for myself and acted like a jerk, but…” Stan’s hands are shaking. “I like you more than I thought I could ever like someone, and it scared me so much, I withdrew from everyone. I avoided you like crazy because I couldn’t let you know, I couldn’t let you reject me.”

“stan.” richie calls for him again, and their eyes meet. “stan, I’m stupid, but you’re also very stupid, oh my god, we’re so stupid.” he groans. “I like you. You like me back. We like each other.” He says it, slowly, as if trying to understand.

“We do.” Stan breathes, amazed.

They only stare at each other for a moment, holding hands like their lives depend on it.

“I’m sorry.” Stan says.

“I’m sorry too.” Richie says it back.

A pause. Then. “Do I get to redo that first kiss?”

Stan pushes him over, and richie laughs

“we never really danced at prom, did we? I bet you refused to dance with me after prom too.”

“I…” Stan narrows his eyes. “Do you really wanna dance, now?”

“Sure.” richie knows stan didn’t mean it as an invitation, but he takes it anyway. He bows. Stan rolls his eyes, but doesn’t stop richie from inching closer, and closer. “Let’s redo the entire night.”

They dance for a while, no music, no rhythm. They dance until richie steps on stan’s toes, and stan pushes him away so hard richie falls on the grass

They laugh, and laugh, and laugh

(god, they both missed this so much)

“Okay, so I’m never doing that again.” stan says, but he’s smiling. “We’re done, richie.”

“not yet.” richie says, getting back up, and he looks serious

he takes a step closer

stan takes another step to meet him in the middle and his hand goes into richie’s hair

richie’s hands are trembling, but he takes them to stan’s neck

they kiss

they look at each other

they kiss again and again and again

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me again, asshole.” Stan says, lips brushing against richie’s

“Oh, don’t worry, Stan the Man, I’m up.” He motions down to his pants. “I’ll be up all night…”

“fucking my mom, i know.” stan answers, the same time richie finishes with “fucking you.” and they look at each other, for a second.

“Fuck you, richie.” Stan is trying to look mad, but he can’t stop laughing

“Well… if you want to, sure. I can be into it.” richie doesn’t miss his mark, but before he says anything else, stan’s kissing him again

richie kisses him back

and they kiss, and kiss, and kiss for a long time.

[undercovermcdfan]

dashes and tallies | Vylance, Hatch Marks AU

prompt: Red tallies appear for every person you’ve loved, black for every person you’ve loved that has died, and a white tally for when you meet your soulmate

a/n: so this takes place in the same universe of hatch marks, except I’m focused on Vylance this time! Don’t worry—if I can finally drag myself from this rut, I wanna make a part 2 to Hatch marks. Also BIG shout out to @crybabytime for not only drawing a fantastic comic based off the first fic (I’m in tears) HERE but being the MVP friend and helping me sort much of the HCs put into this fic??? LIKE??? ur da best & really so amazing thank you

warning(s): mention of other relationships (garrance), alcohol consumption, adult themes, again me crying because this au is so cheesy??

.

.

.

.

“H-hello? Hello? Uh… um, Vylad? This is Laurance!”

Part of Vylad, a part deep deep deep down wished he hung up the phone the moment he heard the desperate voice that wasn’t his brother on the other end. A part overruled by common courtesy to stay on the line despite the panic setting in and his heart still for but a moment.

Garroth always been a good brother—not the outstanding sort but he wasn’t cruel like their third brother, the middle one, Zane. Simply just a guy who saw life without much worry. And though he loved the elder brother dearly, sometimes…

Sometimes…

Garroth’s antics led to situations like this and Vylad questioning why he went out of his way to help.

You know why, his thoughts shot back, his subconscious pushing back as the memory of Laurance’s thankful when Vylad agree that yes, he’ll fetch his drunken brother from causing more havoc at Dante’s birthday bash, floated into mind. Leaning his head against the cool glass of the uber car’s window, he watched as the quiet residential streets of where his apartment build bled to the lively heart of the city, bright lights and all.

Frankly, there’s a special hell for people like him but he didn’t have the luxury of waiting from his own passing, no, whatever gracious being that watched over him from above must’ve thought his suffering was amusing.

To find attraction in another person was a natural occurrence—and for the longest, Vylad thought he must’ve been one of the lucky individuals who didn’t have to go through it romantically. He seen the trouble love could cause, and as the years went, his skin went unblemished with a marking. Acquaintances never crossed the threshold into friendship, and because his life enveloped by the overprotective mother and embarrassed step-father, he never sought out opportunity to find any meaningful connections.

All this, living in apartment without Garte’s heavy breathing down his neck or his mother’s insistence he kept close, with Garroth who went from a distant brother that would appear every now and again between extracurricular activities to being as much of best friend a sibling could be… this was new.

They met Laurance through Cadenza, the heiress to the Zvahl corporation—a new competition that even made Garte sweat in nervousness. From Joh’s innovative and charming persona that wooed many sponsors away from the Ro’meaves Inc. to the brilliant, outspoken daughter who already gracing business magazine covers to… the mysterious adopted son who kept out of the spot light and rumored buzzed among the old money elites his family surrounded themselves with. Cadenza was bright-eyed, beautiful girl, but Garte muttered under his breath, “Watch yourselves. She’s a cunning one.” She worked the party, occasionally returning to them with a gleaming smile and checking in, sweet compliments rolling off the tongue.

The third work around, she brought him.

Fiddling with his cufflinks and before they stepped into ear shot, Vylad could tell the two were in a heated discussion. To this day, he wondered: did he share a distain for his family? Did he hate the outfit he wore? Or the party in general? The mystery man Cadenza brought looked out of place, uncomfortable.

And it’s when he felt that heart racing, tied-tongue feeling.

“Hello.” A bright smile not unlike Cadenza’s, though more forced, as he offered an outreach hand to Garroth, who was just as much swept up in the man’s grace, “I’m Laurance.”

His hand was warm, firmly shaking Vylad’s after Garroth and a simple nod towards Zane when his apathetic brother opts to grunted a “hello” rather than taking his hand.

After the greeting, a brief formal chat, Laurance was eventually lead away by his oldest brother. It’s then when Vylad realized there was an almost pull… a small flicker of jealousy of wishing he stepped up first and did so. But that was out of character, he was the quiet, well behaved step-child of Garte who held nothing in power but his name, not the privileged heir that was Garroth.

Vylad sighed.

A few days after that fancy dinner, Garroth pulled him aside, “Hey, Vylad could you clear out for an afternoon? I’m inviting Laurance over and…”

To his credit, Laurance and Garroth have been dating for months now and apart from a few run ins here and there, once in their apartment lobby and once after Laurance dropping off Garroth off, the two sharing a parting kiss before they said their goodbyes, Vylad steered clear of Laurance.

In person.

Sadly, online, it was a different story. He never really found much use with keeping up with any of his accounts but after the dinner and a moment of weakness, he accepted Laurance’s obligatory friend request.

Some days he thought, his actions might border strange—he’d never like a photo or post Laurance made, but would linger for a thoughtful moment or two. Eyes lit up when the other mentioned a show he enjoyed, or funny pictures he taken, or the more candid pictures he retweeted from his friends and…

“Garroth has rather good taste, doesn’t he?” Zianna, his mother, exclaimed excitedly once to him as she scrolled through Laurance’s profile. She claimed it was her ‘motherly’ duty to just see what kind of men her precious eldest got involved with but Vylad knew it was her being nosy without directly pestering his brother.

Though—if they were talking from an aesthetically pleasing point of view, Vylad readily agreed Laurance did look good. He struck as a natural at posing in his candid picture and the sort of smile that warm, easy, infectious if you saw him in real life. The kind of smile Vylad liked to see more in person, if… he ever worked the courage.

Well, unless I commit to this plan of getting in and getting out as fast as possible… this could be my chance to talk to him. He fiddled with his scarf, readjusting it to properly cover his neck. I should stop thinking like this. Laurance… is Garroth’s… We aren’t high school rivals, no need to boyfriend steal.

Even if I saw him first. Even if he might be my…  

He paused.

I can’–

“Sir,” the gruff voice of the driver impatiently grunted, “your destination. Sir.”

Vylad sighed, reaching into his wallet.

“VYLAD,” Dante managed to startled him despite the loud pulsating music that filled the small space of Dante’s apartment. With glasses that lit up in the dark, a skewed birthday hat and stripped down to a tank top and… swimming shorts? the extroverted blue haired man all but threw himself at Vylad the moment he saw him, “DUDE I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T GOING TO MAKE IT.”

Vylad grimaced and glanced around. Not many familiar faces—Lucinda, a popular fashion guru who slung an arm around a pretty redhead girl, a woman named Katelyn who he remembered seeing in Zane’s office (never happily) sulking on a couch and… he sighed when he saw a familiar Zenix and Sasha dart through the crowd, a third person hot on their tail as the two laugh obnoxiously.

Not exactly my scene. “I wasn’t planning to. I’m here to pick up my brother—have you seen him?”

Dante furrowed his brow, “WHAT?”

“My brother. Garroth? You know, MY BRO— “

Dante held up a hand, cutting him off as he shook his head, “You don’t need to yell, I—okay, sorry. Forgot, bad sense of humor,” he rolled his eyes, just as Vylad’s stare held its scowl, “You can find Garroth… um. Actually, last I saw him, he was hanging in the hot tub with Aphmau but… okay wait, follow me!”

This was tiring.

This was terrible.

Following Dante through the crowd, he continued find words to describe how this party, disco lights reflecting pretty colors and the room felt almost suffocating with the strange smell in the air—

Oh. Well there goes for avoiding Laurance.

Dante tapped Laurance’s shoulder, throwing an arm around him for side hug as he leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Beside him, a white-haired man almost as tall as Laurance’s lanky stature fidgeted with a red cup for a moment before sharing a look with Laurance and striding off in direction of Katelyn on the couch.

“Vylad, this is Lau— “

Laurance, shoving Dante’s face away, and turning enough to properly see Vylad, he gives a bright smile, more genuine than the one when they first met. “We already met. Now scram, dude—I heard K.C. was looking for you.”

“Ehhh,” Dante hung off Laurance’s shoulder, pouting, “Why do you treat me like this? Before Travis and Garroth, I use to be your main man!”

“And you still are. Just need you to be less clingy,” he managed to detached from Dante’s grasp and with a defeated look, the birthday boy conceded his defeat.

Not without the dramatics though, “Whatever. You still owe me an after-Birthday hangover breakfast tomorrow morning. I’m getting that breakfast burrito supreme!” And like a bumbling gazelle, Dante was gone.

In that moment, Vylad was acutely aware of a few things. His heart loud beats could drown out the music. Laurance was just as tall as his memory serves him. And the tongue-tied feeling wasn’t a one-time thing.

“Vylad, I’m so sorry for this short notice,” Laurance started, digging his pocket to pull out a familiar black smart phone, “Garroth… is somewhere. He told me something a hot tub and kind of handed me this and his wallet.”

Dropping the phone and case in his hands, Vylad pocketed them immediately, before shrugging, “It’s no issue. It’s better if I take him home before he really does something stupid…” Vylad paused, noticing the look in Laurance’s eyes, “…What did my brother do?”

“A lot of things. I have things to explain and apologize for to my sister and her girlfriend type things,” Laurance shook his head, massaging his temple before giving a sheepish smile, “No offense. To your brother, I mean. Garroth is usually such a… great guy. I guess alcohol is his vice.”

Vylad frowned, concerned for what his brother might’ve done rivaled concerned what his brother might’ve done to Laurance. Or said. Or whatever reason that caused this sour expression. “I apologize. He’s never was one to handle his drink.” Vylad couldn’t handle holding contact with Laurance for so long, his gaze connected for a moment with those baby blues before scanning the crowd.

“Or bottle, for the matter.” Laurance muttered, voice muffled by the music.

“What?”

He waved his hand, before resting it on his shoulder, “Never mind me. I’m a bit on the tipsy side of things but… I think it’s time for us to find that heir and drag him home before he breaks something else.”

“Break something else?” Vylad tilted his head suspiciously and in worry, looking up at Laurance.

Laurance, on the other hand, cracked a wide smile, teeth and all before pressing his lips together with his pointer finger, “Shh. I left some cash in Dante’s room for what Garroth broke—not even Dante know it’s broken yet,” his blue eyes sparkled with mischief, “I’m trusting you to keep my secret.” Because he lowered his voice, Laurance had to lean closer and Vylad could only jerk his head up and down, nodding Yes, not trusting his words.

Satisfied with the answer, Laurance grabbed his hand, pulling him deeper into the crowd— “Usually it would be faster to separate and find him but Dante sometimes invite shady people. Or Zenix might pick you as a pickpocket victim. Either way, just stay close.”—and again, Vylad could only nod yes, stumbling in after him.

“B-But, Laurance,” Garroth whined, his arms looped around him in a similar manner Dante did to Laurance before. Yet Laurance looked unbothered. “Please. Don’t… do that.” Garroth poked at Laurance’s cheek for his frown.

“Garroth, I—okay, fine,” Laurance said defeated, as he combed through his boyfriend’s blond hair, “This’ll be a conversation for tomorrow.”

“Yes. My win.”

Vylad stopped watching in the mirror as the two proceed to share another kiss, sinking lower in his front seat. He questioned whether letting Laurance ride back to the apartment was a good idea—but one look, the kind that conveyed ‘I’m tired of this’ coupled with Garroth’s clinginess, Vylad conceded quickly.

Watching the street lights go by, he could only think of one thing: fuck.  

The sight was strange, seeing Laurance standing there, squinting at the bottle in hand.

But what made Vylad hesitate from going back into his room and instead take a brave step forward was because at that moment, even with his drunken brother sleeping not so quietly on the couch… Laurance looked… lonely?

“Um…” Vylad licked his lips, gesturing to the bottle in the other’s hand, “I thought you said you drank enough for tonight.”

Laurance laughed, a soft one, settling on the floor and patting the space beside him. “Nope. I’m sure I said I was tipsy… but our little search party for the prince in distress kind of sobered me up,” he paused, leaning against the couch with his expression falling into something more complicated, “And after tonight…? I need it.”

Vylad settled beside him, eyeing the bottle still. It wasn’t one of their finer ones, and it wouldn’t be a reason to pry the bottle away from Laurance but he felt off. Yet, he didn’t speak up as Laurance cracked it open and took a small swig.

Silence settled between them, Vylad sneaking glancing at Laurance and Laurance staring blankly ahead. It was only broken when he suddenly offered Vylad a sip with “a penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, um,” Vylad quickly shook his head, “No, no. I only drink when I have to. For, um, business dinner stuff.”

“Smart boy,” Laurance grinned at him, lifting the bottle again and squinted it, “this taste fine, but I understand why, after seeing what happens to your brother.”

“What happened at Dante’s was nothing to what I heard he done in college,” Vylad shrugged leaning his cheek against the couch as he stared at his resting brother that occasionally tossed and turned, “The frats would throw wild parties and… Garroth is a little too gullible at times.”

Laurance snorted, before taking another swig effortlessly, “After tonight, I believe you completely.”

“And you’re right.”

He gave Vylad a raised brow. “You were right because Garroth is probably the reason why I… don’t casually drink.”

Seeing the genuine smile, then the laughter that followed warmed him in a way he couldn’t described, and he was right; Laurance’s smile was infectious. He could feel the corners of his lips lifting, then chuckling.

“Aw man! I mean,” Laurance as he started to calm down, he shot him an amused look, “sometimes the most fun drunks are the serious ones, you know. And if not, if you had his carefree dancing skills…” Laurance whistled, raising the bottle, “Man, you’d be the life of the party.”

“Really?” Vylad with a deadpanned look.

“Okay,” Laurance had a playful smile, lowered the bottle and turning more towards him, “my sense of ‘life of the party’ might be a little skewed.”

He continued with the look.

“Okay…” Laurance raised his hands in defeat, “I mean, at least he had fun at the end of the day.” Vylad nodded, content with his win and soon, he finds conversation flowed easily between them.

The two traded facts about each other, as their conversation turned from Garroth to each other, and Laurance admitting his curiosity.

“You barely use your accounts, nor ever online.”

“It’s mostly for my freelance work and how people can easily contact me.”

“Freelance? Don’t work for your dad?”

“Yes and no— “

And their discussions continued like for a long while.

Vylad grown a little confident as Laurance put away the bottle, and find himself scooting closer and closer. Their voices grew soft, cushioned by the need of sleep but their want to talk. It wasn’t long until the two were within each other’s space rather than starting off with him by Garroth and Vylad by the end of the couch.

The only noise now that disturbed the air was Garroth’s snore. While minutes ago, Vylad felt a second away from sleep, now sat attentive and hands balled in his lap as Laurance, eyes half lidded, continue to lean close.

So close.

What are you doing? He thinks to himself, as Vylad tilted his face up, almost entranced by how Laurance looked and suppressed the chill that ran down his back as a finger trailed down his jaw, cupping his chin.

Vylad wasn’t well versed in social cues but he knew when a kiss was coming. The way their bodies shifted closer, the way weight Vylad didn’t know existed lifted from his shoulder, and he wondered if Laurance could hear his thundering heart.

He closed his eyes and he started to lean in.

What are you doing?

“W-wait,” a hand stops his moving in, and Vylad’s eyes fly open, cheeks flushed red flushed even redder. “I… I can’t do this, Vylad. Your brother. He’s right there.”

“…” Vylad recoiled even more, unable now to meet with Laurance’s eyes but the other still attempted to touch his hand.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t m-mean to lead you on. I just,” Laurance then touched his cheek in a gesture to look up but Vylad away further, rising to his feet, “This is my fault. I’m so—wait, Vylad, wait!”

He always prided himself of his quickness and while he felt nothing but shame at this moment, Vylad was already in his room by the time a slightly swaying Laurance could get to his feet.

“Vylad, I’m sorry!” was the last he heard before he locked the door.

Leans against it, almost straining to hear the other side of the dense door. No movement. Not a peep.

His hands lifted to his neck, before tearing off the scarf his wore over it. Vylad walked over to his mirror and craning it slightly, he checked the tally on it.

White.

He wondered if it was normal for it to feel like it’s tingling, the pull to Laurance was still there. He felt… regretful more than angry. And because of that, he felt more shame with how he regretted not going in for the kiss, to kiss his brother’s boyfriend, without a shed of remorse.

He squeezed his eyes shut, settling on his bed before flopping back.

“Well I guess avoiding him has gotten way easier,” he mumbled to himself, while Vylad didn’t see Laurance’s face, he’d imagine something close to guilt and heartbreak for Garroth’s sake, that he almost…

He squeezed his eyes tighter.

What was I thinking?

Laurance leaned his forehead against the door, his hand on the handle.

The moment it slammed shut and the audible click of the locking mechanism… Laurance felt the plead die at his throat.

Vylad looked… almost in pain the moment his eyes opened and realized what they were about to do. Humiliation. It was a gut reaction, for the last second before they could press their lips together, he remembered Garroth.

His… well, his soon to be ex, boyfriend. After tonight.

During the night, since the moment Garroth admitted the reason why he hadn’t shown Laurance his tallies was because… he didn’t have a white one to match Laurance’s white. He never directly lied to Laurance’s face, saying he did have a red one, to match Laurance’s red but.

That would explain so much.

He remembered his father once described, finding your soulmate, there was a natural pull to each other.

And Laurance was fond of Garroth, given different circumstances, he’d even say he’d grow to love the blond. But as he returned to the couch, he cask a look the resting blond as he sorts through his thoughts.

He felt connected to Vylad within a few hours versus the months he spent time with Garroth.

A pull.

He would even come to say, the pleasure of getting to know the quiet Ro’meave felt more fun than he had at the party. And the near kiss…

Laurance touched his own lips, frowning. They looked really soft. I wonder if they feel the same.

He glanced towards the hallway Vylad ran down, still frowning. I’m so screwed. What have I done?

Laurance didn’t know for sure.

But he wanted to know; the night of the dinner, he only gotten two new tallies. A red and a white.

If Garroth wasn’t the white…

“I hope I’m not wrong.”