#i think it would make him super flustered and he’d get all sweaty and red in the face

[tired-biscuit]

smooth operator- WAIT I JUST HAD A THOUGHT- how would kiba react to you being smoother than him?

he’d kill himself

[moonrisecoeur]

i want to put a collar on leon and call him a precious little puppy 😭

hi there <3

re2 leon is actually my puppy sorry to everyone else who likes him but unfortunately he’s mine i already adopted him :/

she/her pronouns used, afab parts mentioned.

—

“you want to… what?” he’s confused. weirded out, “okay, okay, slow down. no, it’s okay, i’m not mad. i’m just… i don’t really know what to say to something like that. not every day your girlfriend tells you she wants to put a collar on you.”

“i’m sorry, i know it’s weird—”

“no, it’s not weird… okay, maybe it’s a little weird. i just don’t really understand what you get out of that.”

“do you want me to explain?” you ask, and he’s nervous. he doesn’t truly know what his answer is. on one hand, he likes doing stuff for you, likes doing the things you like so you feel good and are happy with him. he likes when you’re happy with him.

but on the other hand, he doesn’t get the whole collar thing at all. he’s never even thought about it.

“it’s not like an everyday, 24/7 thing, though some couples do that, that’s also a thing. the way i’ve thought about it would be just you… wearing it sometimes during sex. i think it’s like… it signifies possession. ownership. it’s not inherently a pet play thing, but it’s related and they go together,” you explain, and he thinks he gets where you’re coming from but honestly? the more that he thinks about it (especially since you told him it wouldn’t be something he’d have to wear in front of other people) he’s less weirded out by it.

“i.. can i think about it? and we can come back to this conversation when i have an answer for you?” he asks, and of course you say yes, appreciating that he didn’t immediately shut you down. you tell him that you already have one that would probably fit him if he ever wanted to see it, feel it before you tried it, that way he could be more comfortable with it solo before you came along.

some part of him is jealous you’ve done this before. to someone else. and you’d just give him the old one you used on them. he tries not to think too much about it.

he thinks it over over the course of two painfully awkward days. it’s not even that you were waiting for an answer, but he just couldn’t even look at you without thinking about it. he did some googling just because he felt like he didn’t really know enough to make the call. he’s never been the super kinky one, but mostly because he never really got an opportunity to explore that stuff.

after doing his research, and deciding that he actually really likes the idea, every single thought in his head became be her good puppy, wear her collar, appease her, obtain her praise, do everything she asks you to, obey her.

and suddenly, over dinner two days later, leon blurts out, face red and hands sweaty, “i want you to put the collar on me.”

you stop, looking up at him slowly. if you were drinking your water, you probably would have choked on it. he has terribly unsexy timing, “baby, can we finish eating? and then we can talk about it?”

he looks down, flustered and nods. great, now he has to live with this embarrassing moment for eternity.

afterwards, he nervously brings it up again, “so… can you?” his saving grace is that he’s terribly cute when he’s vaguely asking for stuff. you know what he wants, and while it would be cute to make him beg, you couldn’t do that to him. (yet! >.<)

you rummage through your drawers to find it. when you do, leon’s eyes widen. maybe the fact that it’s real and actually about to happen is what’s got him so nervous.

you come closer to him, standing right in front of him. he gulps nervously, gazing at you with those pretty puppy eyes that you’re surprised you made it this far without putting a collar on him.

“are you sure you want this?” you ask, “you can obviously take it off at any time and you don’t have to wear it if you suddenly decide you don’t want to or don’t like it, okay?”

“i’m sure i want this,” he says, a little bit more confidently than you expected. he trusts you.

“okay then, pretty thing,” you mutter, and he’s always weakened by those types of nicknames, pretty boy, pretty little thing, pretty baby, etc. he thinks when he hears pretty puppy leave your mouth (he knows it’s coming, god he feels giddy at the though) he’s going to die and go straight to heaven, “on your knees… where you belong.”

your voice, more raspy than usual, commands him and he is eager to follow, knees hitting the floor in an instant; it’s so fast he winces from discomfort. you wrap the collar around his neck, clasping it on the backside, and pulling the small piece of metal attached to it to the front.

“when you take this off, you can see what it says on the tag, okay?” you say softly, and he nods.

he feels a weird shift in the air, like something has changed in both of you. for himself, he feels smaller, softer, looking up at you with the same pretty puppy eyes he normally does, but it’s with an added sense of submissiveness he tends to shy away from. for you, he’s observant enough to see your smile, and also that dark, hungry look in your eyes. you like this.

he thinks he does too, especially when you run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp like he’s actually a dog, “precious little puppy, you’re so cute, can’t wait to ruin you entirely,” you murmur almost patronizingly, before catching yourself.

your eyes go back to being soft and kind as you ask him, “is it okay? its a comfortable fit, right?”

he nods, a resounding yes to both. for a brief moment, he wants to comfort you. he wants to say you don’t have to worry about me, just enjoy this. ravage me.

you seem to get the message somehow.

you bending down to kiss him is hotter than he imagined it being, and especially when your kisses make him feel high, like being near you is an intoxicating drug he can’t seem to recover from.

you have your pretty puppy eat your pussy like the good boy he is, and he has no complaints, even enjoying when you pull on his collar to get his attention, even if it’s in a demeaning way. you can demean him. it’s you. he’d let you rip out his heart and ache for you to hold him while he bleeds out, so why were you so nervous about putting a damn collar on him?

he finally takes off the collar when you’re done with him (though excited at the prospect of putting it back on) and wonders what else is in store for him with a girlfriend like you. he wonders if he’ll be able to keep up if you keep thrusting new things you want upon him like this. he’s fine with it, he supposes.

it’s at this point he notices what’s imprinted on the tag. he chuckles breathlessly.

♡ leon ♡

[itstivan]

I completely forgot to do it on Valentine’s day.. but anyways!!

Here’s you School Bus Graveyard Valentine’s day headcanons!!

How the group would react to being asked to be someone’s Valentine:

Ashlyn: Literally just stares in confusion, trying to process what has just been said to her. After she finally processes, she gets super shy and her face turns red.

Aiden: Gets super excited and probably does a little jump in the air. Then plays it off cool, while grinning like a maniac. (more than he already does)

Taylor: Gets super happy, and grabs whoever asked hand. Probably blushes a little, and excitedly says yes.

Tyler: Would probably yell “What?!” on accident because of how shocked he is. Also gets SUPER flustered and sweaty. Gets little butterflies in his stomach. Probably rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet and heels because he's nervous.

Ben: Blushes a lot and nods. Probably hugs the person who asked as well.

Logan: Probably says something like “Wait what? Who me? ME?!” While stuttering because of how confused he is. Blushes a little, and plays with his hands. Flustered because he’s never really had a love life or a crush.

Valentines Dates/Gifts

Ashlyn:

She's not very good at gift giving for Valentines. Or in general. She’d probably get her crush a card, or some simple stuff. She’d try her best though. Maybe a plushie.

Ashlyn’s love language is being in each other's presence. So even just watching movies together on Valentine's Day would be enough for her. Or just doing something together like baking (though she might not be the best at it), or doing something crafty (again not the best at it), or listening to music.

Since she’s not good with audible words, she’d probably write a heartfelt letter to her crush explaining everything.

She’s never had any relationship (or friendship..) experience, so she’s super stiff on a Valentine’s Day date, unless she’s in a place she feels comfortable.

Aiden:

Aiden is amazing at gift giving. Even though he is always rambling, if he overhears his crush saying that they were looking into getting a certain item, or that they want a certain item, he would 100% get it for them. Especially if it's expensive.

He thinks he could buy their love LMAO 😭

Aiden’s language is physical touch, so probably any type of activity where he can be able to contact his crush, he’d like. For example, shopping and holding hands, playing with their hair, watching movies and him laying his legs on their lap (he’s also playing with a rubix cube).

Or he’d drag them to like laser tag or rock climbing. Or even a trampoline park. He’d also buy all the food if they went to a cafe or something.

Has literally never had any relationship experience, so he doesn’t know what's right or wrong/ too fast or too slow on a date or as Valentines.

Taylor:

I think Taylor would be very crafty with her gift giving. She probably makes homemade stuff, and stuff that comes from the heart. She’d be the type of person to weld a flower with bolts and stuff LMAO. She always puts A LOT of thought into her gifts, she wants them to be perfect and pretty to show how much she cares. She was always a big DIY crafter when it came to gifts cause she never wanted to bother her mom or Tyler.

Taylor’s love language is communicating, so she’d probably enjoy dates that she had lots of time to talk with her crush. Cafe dates, pottery dates, mall dates, etc. She loves listening and talking and always tries to remember what her crush says for future references. Would probably give her crush a little peck on the cheek at the end of the day.

Probably had two or three relationships in middle school, but they weren’t big. Has had crushes in the past.

Tyler:

I feel like Tyler would be pretty okay at gift giving. But he gets a bit indecisive and overthinks the gift. His gifts would be a mix between something bought and something made. But either way, he’d put a lot of care and thought into them to make sure they're perfect.

Tyler’s love language is protecting. So any kind of date where he could be somewhat close to you would be good. A cafe date, movie date, baking date, stay at home enjoying each other’s company date, etc. He’d also walk near the road so his crush could be safe on the sidewalk. He’d prefer dates where it’s one on one with each other, because he would constantly be stressing about keeping his crush safe and okay. Near the end of the date, he’d probably hold his crush’s hand.

Doesn’t have a lot of relationship experience, but has one or two crushes in the past.

Ben:

Ben isn’t that creative with his gift ideas. But he’s still decent at gift giving. He’d probably give his crush their favorite albums on records/cds, a poster of their favorite artist, a playlist, or he’d burn a cd of songs that reminds him of them. He speaks through music, so this would be the best way to communicate his feelings. He would 100% learn his crush’s favorite song on guitar just for them.

Ben’s love language is music, so any type of dating revolving around music would be good. Maybe looking around a record shop or music store. As well as just hanging out in each other’s room listening to music and suggesting songs.

I also feel like if he feels super comfortable around his crush, he would accidentally fall asleep.

Probably had one crush in the past but never acted on it. No relationship experience.

Logan:

Would be relatively good at gift giving. If his crush read books, he’d read their favorite book and leave annotations of his thoughts and stuff. Or he’d buy them some type of books. Or even get them a flower/plant that reminds him of them. He’d probably also make DIY stuff, but wouldn’t be the best at it.

Logan’s love language is doing each other’s hobbies together. So I personally think he’d be fine with most activities. Pottery dates, shopping, painting, baking, talking about interests at each other’s houses, walking in the park, building legos (don’t ask why, I just feel like he’d like doing that with his crush), etc.

He’s pretty flustered throughout the whole date because he’s never had any relationships, and probably only one past crush.

^^^^

for the dates, gifts, and reactions I believe this is how they’d act if they were with someone in the comic. NOT THE READER!! just thought to clarify just in case :D

[upsideoffalling]

Pot Plants

summary: Peter's roommate is super cute, and after crashing (literally) into his bedroom at 2am, he finally gets what he's wanted since the moment he met you.

warnings: language, injuries, bit seggsy at times

notes: college roommate!peter parker. fluff and spice (nothing too spicy though) both characters are 18.

word count: 2.5k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Peter was usually pretty good at coming and going into the apartment you guys shared. Not only were the walls separating your bedrooms paper-thin, but he knew you were a really light sleeper, and it was hard for you to fall asleep due to your anxiety. So, every night after patrolling, he’d sneak back in through his window, without making anything more than a peep of noise.

Well, Peter decided that night that he was going to be a little too cocky, and he ended up getting his ass handed to him by a group of men that had caught him off-guard. How did THE Spider-Man get caught off-guard? He was wondering that himself. He actually recalled being thrown head-first into a wall at one point. It was a humbling experience.

The air was completely knocked out of him when he smacked into the brick wall right next to his window at two in the morning, and he had to take a moment to gasp some air back into him, before he climbed the rest of the way into his dark bedroom, making minimal noise as he swung himself to the carpet floor. Usually, he was a lot more graceful than this, but Peter was still feeling slightly dizzy and out of whack.

He sighed a breath of relief and pulled off his mask when he couldn’t hear any noise, meaning he hadn’t woken you up, but just as he took a step forward, he crashed into his desk and sent every book, every pencil and the plant he had bought the other day flying into the air before it smashed to the floor with a cluster of loud bangs.

Peter accidentally groaned out loud. “Motherfucker,” He hissed, shooting a web at the light switch to illuminate the mess he made. He groaned again (quietly this time) as he tipped his head back, running a hand over his sweaty face.

Peter crouched down and picked up a piece of the broken - what used to be a ceramic pot, and not being able to help himself, he groaned for the third time. “Seriously? That cost me like, thirty dollars.”

He was about to start picking up the broken pieces, but he heard footsteps as they got closer and closer, until the shadow of your feet could be seen from his under his door. He rose to his feet slowly, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Peter, is that you?” Your voice was melodic through the door, Peter could listen to it all day. But in that moment, he wished the floor would swallow him whole, so he didn’t have to deal with the guilt of waking you up.

“I… Um… No?” He furrowed his eyebrows and squinted his eyes ever-so-slightly, as if he was waiting for you to bust down the door and throw him back out of the window.

“You know we have thin walls, right? You could at least wait until I go to class to… Pleasure yourself.”

Peter ran a hand through his messy hair, cheeks turning red. “What?” He squeaked, stumbling over a book on the floor as he rushed towards his door and pulled it open, coming face to face with you.

Your eyes trailed down his body, and then behind him to the mess on the floor, and then back to him. Peter almost freaked out about you seeing him in his suit, but then he remembered you found out two days after you moved in together when he tried to wash his suit with your clothes and turned everything red and blue.

“I wasn’t doing what you think I was doing. Why would you even think that?” He asked you, completely flustered and you couldn’t help but smile.

“All the moaning and groaning, if I didn’t know how inexperienced you were, I would’ve thought you snuck someone in.” Your smile grew into a cheeky smirk, and the tips of Peter’s ears were burning.

“I-what? Okay, first of all, I am not inexperienced, and second of all, I kind of bumped into my desk and everything fell off, including that new plant I bought, and I get really vocal when I’m frustrated,” Peter rambled, nervous that he was face to face with you; God, you were so pretty.

You gasped out loud and that was enough to stir him from his thoughts, and before he knew what was happening, your hands were cupping his cheeks, concerned eyes burning into his. “Peter, you’re hurt.” He had to fight to stay calm, he could feel the sweat on his scalp threatening to drip down his forehead, could feel his shaky hands becoming clammy. This was the first time you’d ever touched him like this.

He let you tilt his face from one side to the other, eyes fluttering shut in comfort. You could snap his neck for all he cared, as long as you kept holding his face like this, paying this much attention to him.

“I’m sorry for waking you, Y/N.” He mumbled; eyes still shut as you kept his head tilted away from you. He wished you would stay there all day.

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling so hard. “I wasn’t asleep, Peter,” You whispered, lightly pressing on a dark bruise just under his eye. “Does it hurt?” You asked, turning his head back to face you.

His eyes fluttered open, locking instantly with yours. He shook his head, bringing one of his own hands up to clasp onto your wrist. “No, it doesn’t hurt.” He could hear the concern in your voice, could see the care you held for him. He wanted to kiss you so badly in that moment, until you forgot your own name.

“C’mon, let’s get you an ice pack.” You removed your hands from Peter’s face, much to his dismay, but made up for it by locking your fingers with his and pulling him along with you towards the kitchen.

It was only then he noticed you were wearing his ‘I survived my trip to NYC’ shirt that he thought he had lost. It fell to the middle of your thighs, but he knew you weren’t wearing shorts under it.

A shiver went down his spine and he fought to keep his eyes locked on the back of your head.

You made him sit on the counter in front of you while you rummaged through the first-aid kit and searched for a bag of peas or something. He watched you move around the kitchen, couldn’t help but smile. He knew you cared about him, just not enough to nurse him back to health so early in the morning.

You stopped in front of him and looked up at him, feeling your own smile grow. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Peter tilted his head. A moment of boldness, of over confidence, maybe. “You’re just… beautiful.” It was the best word he could think of, but it still fell short for you.

You bit your lip again, breaking eye contact as you felt your cheeks turn pink. Just as you looked down though, you noticed the rips in his suit and the dried blood on his stomach and you gasped loudly, holding your hand over your mouth.

Peter jumped, hands latching onto your wrist. “What! What’s wrong?” His eyes were wide, searching your face for any tell of the tears welling in your eyes.

“Peter, your stomach, you’re bleeding!”

He finally looked down, only now just noticing the rips and the blood in his suit. He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Fuck, you know how hard this suit is to stitch back up?”

You glared up at him. “That’s your concern? These look like knife wounds, Peter,” You chided, and he had to fight the smile. “Take your suit off, now.” You moved away from him to gather even more first-aid supplies.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m only wearing boxers under th-“

“Oh, Peter. You know how many times I’ve had to walk into your room to check if you were still alive and seen you in your boxers?”

He scrunched his face, considering, before pushing himself off the counter and with a little struggle, removing his suit and letting it drop to the floor.

You scooped it up and placed it on the counter next to him. “I’ll fix the rips later. First I’ve gotta fix you.” You gestured for him to sit back on the counter, and your eyes burned as you tried to keep your eyes anywhere but his boxers.

“Thank you,” Peter caught your wrist in his hand, bending his head down a little to catch your eye. “Really.” He swiped his thumb over the inside of your wrist once, before letting you go.

“Here,” You hand him the frozen bag of peas. “Hold this to your eye, and I’m going to clean these cuts.” You order him, tilting your body forward to analyse the cuts. Just under them were the hard ridges of his stomach, the outline of the muscle had your mouth watering. You pretended not to notice.

Peter remained silent as you cleaned his stomach, only wincing and hissing when you applied the alcohol. It was a little scary, having you so close to his, you-know-what. He had to hope and pray that it wouldn’t turn hard at the sight of you so close to him. It was a miracle it didn’t.

Some of your Y/H/C hair had fallen over your face, and just as you looked up at him, he brushed it behind your ear and your eyes met. Something shifted between the two of you and you straightened up, standing between Peter’s legs.

He dropped the defrosted bag of peas to the counter and with a surge of confidence, he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, just as one of yours landed on his thigh.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” His voice was husky, eyes dropping back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

You took a deep breath in, leaning closer to him. “God, it’s about time you asked. I’ve only been waiting two yea-“

Peter closed the gap and pressed his lips against yours, and his body instantly relaxed and he was like putty in your hands. He moved his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers lacing in your hair so he could tilt your head up, giving him better access to your mouth. He let the other wrap around your back.

You groaned against his lips, hands slowly moving up his muscular legs.

Peter had been waiting a long time for this. He’d lived with you for two years, and from the moment he saw you, he’s never found anyone else like you. He wondered what made him so hesitant to have you, especially when you were kissing him with this much passion, so tenderly.

“Com’ere,” He moved his hands down your body and gripped onto the back of your legs, and using his super-human strength, lifted you so you were straddling his lap on the counter.

The new position gave you a little more control since you were slightly taller than him now, and you cupped his face with your hand, just as you had before, and smashed your lips against his, loving the feeling of him under you and pushing against you all at the same time.

Peter happily responded, and he hesitantly grazed her bottom lip with his tongue. He grew a little unsure of himself when you opened your mouth, but you pushed your hips into his ever-so-slightly, and that was enough for him to slide his tongue into your mouth, meeting with your own.

He groaned quietly, feeling like he was on top of the world. He trailed his hands down your body slowly and softly, squeezing when they reached your butt, and he smirked when he felt you shudder at his touch.

The sparks between you felt like fireworks going off in your whole entire body. Vibrant colours of the rainbow soaring around you, and Peter knew if he wasn’t careful, he’d get burnt. He was beginning to feel like his whole body was on fire, and maybe it was the whole having his head smashed into a wall, but he felt like he was going to pass out. With a lot of reluctance, he pulled away, lips barely touching yours when you groaned in frustration.

“Baby, I think I’m going to pass out if you keep kissing me like that.” He dead panned, but then his face lit up with a smile as he opened his eyes and saw you with that same look on your face.

Peter decided in that moment that he was the luckiest man in the world, and no number of bruises, cuts and blood could change that.

You rested your forehead against his, both of your pants filling the silence in the air. “Holy shit.” You remarked, stroking your thumb over his face.

He nodded in agreement. “I’ll break a hundred and thirty more pot plants if it means I get to kiss you, again.” He rubbed his hands up and down your back, closing his eyes. He was light-headed.

“You can kiss me whenever you like, Peter. It’s been that way since we met.”

“I might just take you up on that.” Peter smiled, leaning in to place a single kiss on the tip of your nose. "So, you still think I'm inexperienced?"

Peter had a cheeky grin on his face and he watched as you tipped your head back and laughed, his eyes filling with admiration for you.

"Hm, I dunno. I think I'll need another sample." You looked down at him and took your bottom lip between your teeth, arms tightening around his neck. The sexual tension between the two of you was heating up the room.

In one swift movement, he pushed the both of you off the counter with your legs still wrapped around his waist and his hands on your butt to support your weight, and carried you towards the living room couch.

"Say no more."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A/N:

hey everyone! sorry I've been kind of missing for the last week, I'm actually working on a Peter Parker (long) series so have been putting in a lot of effort for that. anyways, I hope you enjoy this and please send in your requests!! (yes, I do smut, for those of you asking)

also!! I have a taglist in my description now, so if you'd like to be added to it, please click the link in my bio. let me know if you have any issues.

Tags: @astralpjs @simpinformarvelmen4real @acethecardsblog@broidktf @criesinlies @geeksareunique @bxnnywatts@cevansssss@amelxobx @bekky06 @abcdefzlive @sad-sapphic @fuyupet@piecksarmrest @simpinforsebbyandbarry

[shoichee]

hiii tysm for keeping this fandom alive... i was wondering if i could request hugging hcs for Moriyama, Kasamatsu, and Hayakawa? like what kind of hugs do they give, when, etc.?

BANGER REQUEST THIS IS SUCH A UNIQUE ONE I LOVE THIS THANK YOU ANON.... i hope you’re still around :^) 

[Headcanons]

Moriyama Yoshitaka

this guy is literally the definition of touch-starved LOL

once he finds his special someone, they’re gonna need to prepare themselves for TONS of verbal affection… even if they don’t get his convoluted words half the time

that being said, he wouldn’t be awkward with hugs, but it’s his misinterpretations and poor executions of the hugs that make things awkward

in his MIND, he THINKS he’s being mega suave and totally seducing you with his mannerisms, and you’re just here like, “umm… you know you can just… ask for a hug if you wanted one.”

“According to my research though, it’s better to approach this more poetically in order to be seen in a more profound light with the person you like.”

“Huh? Are you actually trusting the internet more than me about what I want—”

“Sorry, sorry, here,” he would mumble in defeat and immediately bring you to nestle your head against his chest

this type of interaction would be very frequent in the early stages of your shared relationship, where Moriyama would try to salvage his poor social skills by hugging you against body, and him putting his hand to cradle your head while the other is around your waist

of course, even if you were exasperated with him, you can’t help but eventually hug him back and snuggle closer

canon: he’d have unique scents on him every once in a while, because he’s someone to use scented deodorant sprays (like citrus, in the Replace novel)

he’d actually be unintentionally charismatic with his actions? like, if he doesn’t open his mouth and wordlessly hugs you, his body just knows how to accommodate you:

sad? happy? clingy? affectionate? lazy? when he sees your current mood, he just somehow knows what type of hugs to give you…

he thinks the internet advice is working, but in reality, he’s just inherently very in-tuned with people’s emotions; for example, he’s one of the few people who can see straight through Kasamatsu and his inner struggles, and he’s always the first person to suggest roundabout ways to make him relax

so because of this, sometimes he’d make the most confusing statements and random trivias he found from his “research” just to try to look for an opportunity to sneak up and glomp on you “tactfully” (never works, and you end up sighing that *sigh* before letting yourself be open on purpose for Moriyama to sneak in with a hug)

this dude is the type of guy who’d find every opportunity to hug you in front of his teammates to subtly show off how “experienced” he was in dating LOL and then he’d probably say something like, “If you follow the signs I told you guys about, you’ll all be able to have cute dates too, you know…” all while giving that little comical pout and index finger point at them… maybe flipping his bang to the side with that finger too…

but again, he’s touch-starved, so deep inside, he really, REALLY likes hugging you and wants to touch you every moment he gets

whenever he hugs you, he’s at his most “normal,” where he drops the whole “fate, elements, advice” talk and just has normal conversations and genuine muses… although a random corny line might slip out of habit

he hugs you before school, during school, after school, but rarely during practice or games or anything like that… which is surprisingly odd

he’ll hug you in front of his teammates during school no problem, but if it’s right before a practice or a game, he usually doesn’t, mostly because he’s usually very concentrated on the upcoming challenge… and not to mention, he’s a 3rd-year, so he does want to set a good example for the underclassmen in prioritizing the team first

he has no problem scouting for your face on the stands before a game starts though, and of course, he’d pester his team about how cute you looked in the stands

once games end, if you allowed him, he’d usually jog straight to you and would try to give you a quick hug before he’d go back to his teammates to the lockers

Kasamatsu Yukio

touch-starved guy #2, but is also afraid of physical contact

not because he doesn’t like it, but the concept of someone hugging him or him hugging someone for ROMANTIC reasons is so foreign

it’s the fact that he knows he’ll get super sweaty, clammy, and stiff and he KNOWS he’d focus on everything but also on nothing, and at that point he’ll just shut down—

so touch-starved that when he gets a hug from you, he’d be hyper-fixated on EVERYTHING about you and where you’re touching, and his brain would just overload

so the result is the same old Yukio being frozen and stammery and red

in other words, YOU have to initiate the hugs

whenever you hug him, he’s gonna first flinch and then respond by stiffly holding his arms out to support your weight against his body… and then after a few seconds of contact, he would awkwardly pat his two hands on your back in this loose hug he’s doing LOL

all while being red, of course

but how much he hugs depends on how much you go up to him for hugs; as much as he grumbles and stammers and lamely complains, he’d never reject any of your hugs, even with the hesitant reciprocation

if you two are alone, he’s much quicker to hug you back… if you hug him in public or in front of his teammates, he’s more likely to be frozen stiff and slower to pat your arms in a shy hug

however, the times when Kasamatsu would be at his lowest and most emotional are when Kasamatsu initiates the hugs first, often out of nowhere with fierce, tight holds while nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck/top of your shoulder

once he reveals his most vulnerable side like this to you in hugging you, it’d be huge milestone in which he would be more inclined to initiate physical contact without being in a flustered state

all in all, give the poor captain some time… eventually when you’ll reach a certain part of your relationship (see bullet points above), he’ll be comfortable enough to hug you without being a mess

so when he finally gets to this point, he will always ask you for consent (or at least give you a heads up) before he hugs you or physically touches you with, “May I…?” or “Do you mind…?”

and most of the time, or near always, you’d reply, “Of course, Yukio.”

“Th-That’s good…”

he’s still a reserved individual with a captain’s duty to uphold, so he’s not going to be handsy on his end in front of people; he’d literally DIE of embarrassment

expect “loose” hugs from him, he’s not gonna smush your face into his chest or give those extremely tight hugs, generally speaking

so what should you expect from his hugs? assuming that you hugged him first, his hands will always pat your back or rub soothing patterns of circles and swirls, almost in an unconscious effort to try to show you that he does love these hugs from you, even if it’s hard for him to show and express that sometimes

or if he has those shy moments, he’d try to half-heartedly pry you off in a grumbling fluster, but after grasping your arms around his waist, he’d immediately give in and just rub those familiar patterns on your upper arms while trying to convince you to wait until you’re alone with him to do these things

if he senses some sketchy people nearby or if you’re in a crowd full of strangers, expect a hand around your shoulder as he ushers you slightly closer to his side with a serious glint in his eyes, analyzing your surroundings (again, this will only happen once your relationship reaches at a later stage)

it’s only when the “danger” passes by and with his hand still on you that he realizes what he did and starts getting embarrassed again

key phrase with the Kaijō captain is: “There’s a time and place for everything.”

Hayakawa Mitsuhiro

touch-starved guy #3, but he’s not afraid to pounce on you for the hugs

ever since he miraculously got into a relationship with you (according to his teammates, anyways), slapping his own cheeks to get himself in the mood for rebounding wasn’t as appealing anymore

not when he has you to hug and accidentally squeeze the life out of you

“Oh!! A(l)e you he(l)e to chee(l) me on, (y/n)-san?!”

“M-Mitsu… I can’t… breathe—”

“O-Oh! So(l)(l)y…! I [will learn] to be mo(l)e ca(l)efu(r) next time!”

“Mitsuhiro, please don’t worry about me! Go back to your teammates… they’re waiting for you. Good luck on the game, okay?”

Hayakawa treats hugging like he does with basketball, putting 100% of his effort and enthusiasm into it… and oftentimes, his hugs can be too… explosive? they can be quite abrupt and intense

his energy alone would normally scare away everyone—hell, a lot of times, his teammates can’t tolerate it… so everyone always wonders how you never seem bothered by his tendencies

but to you, his bear hugs make you feel very, very secure and loved, since he never has qualms about hugging in public because he’s always focused on you or the courts

initially though, his hugs definitely crushed your figure into smithereens, mostly because he’s never had to keep his strength in check

and he’s never had anything close to an intimate relationship, so he’d probably need a lot of time and positive encouragement/advice for him to learn how to be more delicate (or rather, tactful) when initiating hugs

he’s SO earnest that he’d totally treat your words/encouragement as a serious lesson and would try to “practice” hugging and ask:

“Is this okay, (y/n)-san?!”

if you’re not around, he’d totally hug his teammates out of nowhere and definitely receive a few punches or kicks out of retaliation

“WHAT THE HELL?”

“I am p(l)acticing [how to] hug, Kasamatsu-senpai!”

“Don’t do that! People will get the wrong idea!!”

“Why? Don’t we a(r)ways p(l)actice togethe(l) as a team, captain?!”

“That’s completely different!!”

he has no tact, so whenever he sees you, expect a fierce hug as a greeting every time… unless you tell him that you’re not a fan of the constant hugging or want to save it for private moments, he’s gonna keep doing it

just as your hugs hype him up for anything upcoming, when you hug him a certain way, they also have a calming effect on this excitable boy too

Kasamatsu literally reveres you because you’re the only one who can keep him in check

it’s when you do your calming hugs (that gentle squeeze around his torso as you slowly nuzzle against him) that his heartbeat slightly slows down and his breath exhales out steadily to let out the pent-up steam

those types of hugs from your end would allow you to see a “less-energetic” side of him, where his voice might still be loud, but at least it’s still relatively indoor voice

still, a lot of his sentences are either incomprehensible mumbles or butchered exclaims, no in-between

“Sometimes, it’s good for your body and mind to stop and relax, y’know?”

“I-Is that so…! You a(l)e very knowled[geable] about these things! I [think] that is ve(l)y coo(r)…”

“You say that, but you’re one of the best offensive rebound players in the nation. That’s so much cooler, Mitsuhiro.”

“If I was coo(r) (r)ike you say, I wonde(l) why peop(r)e (l)un away [when I try] to ta(r)k? Mo(l)iyama-senpai says [it is because] I ‘have no cha(l)m’… I must wo(l)k ha(l)der [if that is the case]!”

“Well, I think your attitude and energy can be very refreshing. Everytime I see you, I can’t help but be motivated to work hard and accomplish like you do.”

“I am ve(l)y touched, (y/n)-san…!”

all in all, he will hug you every chance he gets (except when Kasamatsu roundhouse kicks him to curb him) and accepts all hugs from you (while being red and a little shy, but still enthusiastic)

prepare your waist/torso to be constantly crushed embraced, because that’s where his arms will always be around

[thewritingbasil]

First time writing and publishing something like this! I hope you enjoy!

Chrome x modern!Reader

* When you find out Chrome goes out to explore on his own and lives outside the village, you worry about who will notice if something goes wrong. Since you’re curious and also love discovering things and can’t sit still in the village for a long time, you tell Chrome about the modern-day buddy-system idea and start joining him on his expeditions.

* He’d love to take you exploring and show all the exciting things he discovered! He’s never had an exploring buddy before, and while Senkuu does appreciate what he finds, Senkuu spends more of his time creating blueprints and solving problems in the lab and using what he has available, not looking for things that will maybe be helpful in the future. That’s why he trusts Chrome and, now, you to have an eye for materials that will help the Kingdom of Science grow

* At first Chrome has a lot to teach you, like how to notice materials, where to walk, and how to keep track of time and your location especially since you need to get used to not having a cell phone.

* But eventually you become a great explorer in your own right and he has a lot of trust in you as his partner. In fact, he ends up trusting you a lot when the buddy system helps out, like when he once experienced a small cave-in or when he needed emergency first aid.

* You also find things he overlooked because you both tend to look in different directions when you’re searching.

* He loves that someone else shares his love of exploring with him. When he used to search alone, it was very isolating and he could get lost in his head while walking. Now, you remind him about food and he’s willing to take slightly greater risks when trying to reach somewhere because he’s got you as an extra pair of hands and eyes and brain.

* The combined haul is also bigger, which he gets super excited about. You both chatter to each other and compare stashes when you’re organizing what you found into different baskets at the end of the day.

* When Senku compliments you both on the materials found, Chrome proudly grins at you.

* Chrome isn’t just an explorer though, he’s a scientist which means he can’t spend all his time exploring with you. He goes to work with Senkuu while you help out elsewhere because, buddy system! You’re not going on your own.

* If you’re also working in another group like crafts or the power group, you go for a period of time without seeing him because you’re working on different projects.

* However! During your trips, you both became used to showing each other your finds and communicating when working in different sections to know how each other is doing

* He also appreciated the conversations you would bring about the modern world and about yourself, and how you were eager to learn about himself and his village. So he gets used to that routine of you being there to converse with.

* Chrome ends up talking with you during breaks about what the each of you are doing and exciting progress reports and how the materials you found are being put to use. Both of you get excited learning that something you’ve found has a cool scientific purpose/property and you invite each other to stop by and watch it in action.

* He loves seeing your eyes light up in amazement as you watch and praise his work.

* When you show him your group’s work, it’s not as science-y but he acknowledges your skill and hard work and he is also a craftsman and not too strong so whether you’re in the crafting group or power group, you still impress him. He’s not shy about praising you and gives you high fives or says “Baaaad!” This also helps him get along with other people in your group since he and they don’t usually interact.

* Obviously, Chrome would take a long time to realize that he’s fallen in love with you. He’s known Ruri for over 3 years and he still hasn’t figured it out.

* But others start noticing that he goes out of his way to get you to show off something. They’d understand if the project was finished, but when it’s a work in progress, it’s not very impressive to show. But you love it every single time because you’re curious and actually enjoy seeing everything put together little by little. Then, when the project is done, you can visualize the components and hard work that was put in to create it.

* And the villagers watch how he gets more talkative when you show interest and ask questions. He brings up inventions from the modern era that you’ve told him about so you both seem to share a mysterious language that they can’t understand. Some of them start shipping you two long before he notices anything.

* During mealtimes, you sometimes eat together. You talk about your next scavenging trip, new places in the village you haven’t explored, new projects, so many things. You both can get pretty sucked in to your conversations, forgetting the food. However you’re usually the one who finally remembers that you’re eating, and you teasingly shove food in his mouth. Your cheeky grin has blood rushing into his face and he is dazed, until he shakes himself out of it and starts to eat again.

* People are watching and nudging each other.

* Soon, Chrome becomes aware of you in a way he hasn’t before. He can’t help but smile every time you make eye contact. He craves the casual way you touch him and makes sure to be within your arms’ reach so you’re more likely to nudge him or grab him to drag him off somewhere in your excitement.

* When you first met him with Senku and Kohaku, you learned that he liked Ruri and never questioned it since. Whenever he talked about her, you could tell she was special to him. You made teasing jokes like forging a hairpin from iron and giving it to her with the line of “the burning fire in my heart for you was so hot I melted the iron with it” and he got flustered and groaned over the dumb line

* Recently, when you made those types of jokes, he felt conflicted. Part of him still got flustered but when he looked at you grinning and thinking you were oh so clever, he started to wonder why you would act like he liked Ruri when, thinking about it, he liked you...wait what?? He didn’t like you!

* Sure he thought you were cool and fun to hang out with and capable but that’s just something he admires and that’s a good friend, right?

* Right, he thought, shaking his head. You were a trusted partner, he didn’t want to kiss you or anything...

* “What?” You looked over your shoulder at him. “You got quiet over there.” You two were spending the late afternoon before dinner organizing your haul and you had just said that the location today was so beautiful Chrome should show it to Ruri once Senku cured her.

* He stared at your slightly parted lips. Did he want to kiss them? He was a man of science. When he collected rocks and plants, he’d grind, combine, set on fire, and experiment to find out how they reacted. Your mouth was kind of pretty, and yeah maybe he did want to see if kissing you was enjoyable.

* Chrome’s hands stopped working and now he was looking at you with unfocused eyes and a furrowed brow. You paused in your sorting and turned fully towards him. “You got a look on your face. Whatcha thinking about?”

* He is totally used to telling you his ideas so without hesitation, he answers before thinking, “What kissing you would feel like.” Then, he realized what he said. “Noooo! Sorry, that’s creepy right?” He zoomed backwards away from you, almost crashing into a table. How could he say that to you, you were one of his best friends!

* “Uhhh...” Chrome closed his eyes and braved himself for a rejection, ready to be kicked out of his hut for the next hour. “It’s not that creepy, I guess?” He heard you say. Were his ears working properly? He cracked an eye open to peek at you. You grinned awkwardly at him, having one side of your mouth quirked up.

* “Science inquiry, right? Question everything.”

* Maybe it was the afternoon sun or him imagining things, but your face looked a little pink. Kind of tempting. Whoa, did he really like you?

* “I need to figure something out.” He looked at you intensely.

* “Let me in on it, I wanna know.” Before, you had been avoiding eye contact out of shyness but now your eyes looked into his, drawing him closer. His footsteps seemed to be drowned out by the drums in his chest. He was getting nervous.

* He stopped a little ways in front of you. Being so close to you was almost making him lose his nerves. Kissing you? That seemed impossible.

* “Come on, Chrome.” You entwined both of your hands with his and pulled him closer until you were sharing the same air.

* You closed your eyes and patiently waited. Still with his heart beating in his ears, he looked at your long lashes, your eyebrows arched expectantly, and your flushed cheeks.

* You were getting nervous standing there and you bet your hands were all sweaty now. “Did you change your mind?” You did tend to grab him and drag him places. This was something he should be able to choose without being pressured. You started to loosen your hands, and he ripped his hands away.

* Before you could get disappointed, you felt those hands suddenly on the sides of your face and your lips met something soft.

* He was kissing you.

* Despite the sudden kiss, he knew enough to not just smash your lips together. It was much more of a firm press, one that had you craving for more even as butterflies exploded in your stomach and fire rushed over your skin. But you didn’t want to push it. You simply adjusted your lips to overlap better onto his and put your hands on his hips to hold him close.

* After a few seconds, Chrome leaned back with an entirely red face. “Baaaddddd,” he breathed. That had been enlightening. And soft. And pleasurable. Okay yeah, you weren’t just a best friend anymore. If it meant you would look at him like this, wide-eyed and giddy and hungry for more, he wanted to keep kissing you.

* Your hands squeezed his hips nervously, fingers a fluttering pressure on his flesh. “Practice for Ruri?” You asked in the small distance between your mouth and his.

* “Not Ruri,” he said distractedly. His eyes were still dazed and drinking in the tempting picture you made. “I want to kiss you.”

* And your mouth curled up into a pleased grin, looking hard to resist. So he didn’t.

[lilyeholland]

Before It’s Too Late [Part 2]

[Reggie Peters x Reader] PART ONE - PART TWO

Summary: Y/N and Reggie have never officially stated what they were to each other, so Y/N plans to tell the brunette bassist how she really feels before him and his band are to take stage at the Orpheum. Little did they know this would be there last encounter. *only a little bit inspired by Stranger by Jeremy Shada*

Warnings: super fluffy at first and then BAM the angst hits you like a truck :) it’s also lowkey kinda long lol, mentions of death

Word Count: 10k I’M SO SORRY IT REALLY GOT AWAY FROM ME IT’S WORTH THE READ THOUGH I PROMISE

The night before, you had stayed up writing and rewriting your confession letter to Reggie - the one you were going to give him before he performed. There were countless amounts of crumpled papers on your floor all because you insisted on writing it in pen and making every individual letter look perfect. Finally, once you were satisfied with the way the ink stained the thin sheets of paper, you sealed it in a blush pink envelope, sprayed your perfume on it, and wrote Reggie’s name in big bubbly cursive letters, you set it on the corner of desk and anticipated its arrival in Reggie’s hands. 

You knew better than to go to Reggie’s house in hopes to find him and talk to him - he was rarely ever there. Instead, he’d be at the garage studio regardless of if the boys were there with him.

You lean against the big white doors of the studio, admiring the way Reggie is laying on his back staring at the ceiling and riffing away at his unplugged bass. “Knock, knock,” you say, startling the innocent boy in front of you to his feet.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” You both take steps closer to each other. Reggie sinks his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do with him, but wanting to reach out to you and smother you in a hug. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to come by and ask if it was alright if I came by before the show to wish you luck. Since, you know, I can’t watch you guys play.” You offer him a solemn smile, but he just grins widely at you.

“You can totally come by,” he bites his lip and hides his smile. “We’ll be done with our sound check around 5 and you can come by then?” He questions, just to make sure it works with you.

You nod your head and smile back at him.

“You can meet us by the backstage doors - it’s in this really creepy-looking alleyway, but I promise its safe.” Again with the cute faces that make you want to throw away the whole plan and tell him you want to be his official girlfriend right now. “No one’s died there yet... That I know of.”

“If I get murdered there, I’m blaming you,” you tease, earning a longing look hidden behind a breathy laugh from Reggie. 

“You won’t,” he sings as he pulls you in for a tight hug. “I won’t let that happen to you.” As his arms envelope themselves around you, yours do the same to his torso. 

“Promise?” you test him, looking up but never untangling yourself from his embrace. 

“Promise.” He nods his head once, his smile beginning to form a magnet-like attraction to yours. He leans down slightly as he slides his hand up your body to cup your cheek. Your lips barely graze one another’s before - 

“Oh, sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” Luke says with wide eyes as him, Alex, and Bobby walk in. The three of them chuckle to each other, knowing full-well what they almost just witnessed. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say as you dust off any remaining Reggie on your body. “I was just leaving anyway.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he winks cheekily and waves you off.

All that and he still can’t call himself your boyfriend? Well, you usually have to kiss your boyfriend, so it makes sense. 

It’s not like you and Reggie had never kissed before - twice actually - but neither of them count as a real kiss in your eyes. The first one was just an embarrassing moment from a few months ago where you had leaned in to kiss his cheek but he turned his head too quick and accidentally landed his lips right on top of yours. It lasted .02 seconds and you were both really flustered afterward. The second one was just a consequence of playing spin the bottle. 

It was frustrating that both times you had almost really kissed had been interrupted so abruptly. You hoped and prayed that you would finally be able to kiss him tomorrow before the show. 

The day finally was here and you had prepped your lips with a special raspberry shiny gloss beforehand, in hopes Reggie’s focus would be on your lips and he’d be more tempted to make the first move. 

You take one last look in the mirror, fixing the smudges of lip gloss around your mouth and then spraying one last spritz of your perfume on the letter addressed to Reginald Peters, himself. 

You had not expected him to already be in the creepy alleyway with 2/3 others in Sunset Curve - but he was - joking and laughing away with them. He couldn’t have noticed you any faster than he did, saying something to the band quickly and then jogging over to you so you didn’t have to walk so far. Also so you had more privacy. 

The first thing he does is bring you into a hot, sticky hug. Surprisingly, it doesn’t smell bad. 

“Ooh, sweaty,” you comment jokingly.

“Haha, yeah, sorry about that. I might’ve gone a little too hard during Now or Never,” he shakes himself out of the hug and smiles at you before noticing the envelope with his name on it. “What’s this?” His eyes widen as he rubs his hands together like a little kid waiting to open presents on Christmas morning.

“Oh!” You suddenly become extremely embarrassed of what you wrote on those pages, now nervous for him to open it and read it. “Just some letter I wrote you,” he had already taken it upon himself to take it and open it up, only increasing the anxiety-nausea in your stomach. His eyes begin skimming the top lines, a grin forming at his lips. 

“You know, it’ll probably take you a while to read it so how about I just sum up what it says for you,” you pull the letter away from his face, beginning to panic. “Basically, um,” you giggle nervously and glance up at him from under your eyelashes. He’s giving you the puppy look again. “I like you Reggie. A lot. And I don’t really know what we’re doing each other, but I just wanted to tell you how I really feel about you before you play the Orpheum and get super famous and inevitably forget about me, so here it goes,” you finally take a deep breath after getting all that out. 

Reggie grabs your hand in his, too nervous to interrupt or add anything to what you just blurted. 

“I think I love you, Reggie.” He clocks his head in your direction, not in a shocked way, more in an interested way, opening his mouth to say something back. “But before you say anything, I don’t wanna rush you cause I know we’re still so young and we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. I just - I wanna be your girlfriend.” You finish by squeezing his hand that’s still intertwined with yours and sucking your bottom lip into your mouth.

“Is that really what the letter said?” He asks.

“I may have added some stuff,” you whisper, almost ashamed of the guts you had just spilled to him. 

He rolls his eyes slightly in a joking manner, pulling you closer by the hand and mumbling, “come here,” before he firmly plants his lips on yours. FINALLY. You’re shocked at first, but instinctively kiss him back without second thoughts. In a familiar motion, he drags his hand from your hip to your hair while you place both of your hands on either side of his waist.

“Does this mean I’m your boyfriend now?” He teases as he pulls apart just enough to see your face. 

“Mm-hm,” you nod your head and grin at him.

He leans in for another kiss, this time getting closer by wrapping his arms behind your neck. It’s deeper and more passionate than the first one, both of you moving your mouths in sync like it was choregraphed. 

“Reggie!!!” the two other musicians shout from down the alleyway. 

He tries to pull away, but his lips linger on yours for a few seconds longer. 

“You better hurry if we wanna eat before the show!” Alex cups his hands around his mouth to make his voice louder. 

Reggie looks at you and groans still with a little smile on his face. “I’ll see you after the show, okay?”

He kisses you again, short and sweet, and again, and again, having a hard time being able to separate himself from you. As he’s walking away, reaches out his hand so the last thing to touch is your fingertips. 

“Good luck, boyfriend!” You shout to him as a joke as he starts making his way to Alex and Luke. 

“Thanks, girlfriend!” He jokes back and blows you a kiss from the distance. 

This moment would soon be the moment you replayed over and over in your head, thinking that reliving it would somehow make it so it never ended and Reggie never left. 

You went the whole night thinking everything was alright, excitedly waiting for the band to get back to the studio for the after party they had planned there. Only, you had waited too long and started to get in your head about things. Did Reggie only act like that with you to get some pre-show lovin’ to hype him up before he performed? Maybe the band got invited to a bigger, fancier afterparty by the featured band they were opening for.

You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch waiting for them. You woke up to the noise of Bobby turning on the lights and finding you cuddled up with one of the flannels Reggie had left behind.

His face was blotchy, eyes red and puffy, and the tip of his nose was shiny. 

“Bobby, what’s wrong?” you stood up and walked towards him.

He couldn’t even respond, he just shook his head and began to cry again. 

“Where are the other three? Where’s Reggie?” The worst thoughts started to drown you, but you countered it by telling yourself you were just being irrational, they were probably fine, they probably just had a band fight. 

“They were there before-” he sobs, “-and then there were sirens- and- and-” he’s unable to finish.

“Bobby,” you say in a panicked voice. “What happened? Where are they? Where’s Reggie?” your voice is shaky and cracked now that tears have built a wall on the surface of your eyes. 

“They’re gone.” He barely chokes those two words. 

You feel yourself take steps backward, losing control over your breathing while stumbling back onto the coffee table behind you. “No, no, no,” you deny. “You have to be lying,” the egg in your throat makes it near impossible to say. 

Bobby says nothing, instead reaches in his back pocket and takes out the blush pink envelope. “This was in his jacket,” he hands it to you before having to turn around completely to hide his wet face. 

On the last page, he’s added something in bright red sharpie:

“To the most beautiful girl in the world, I’m playing for you tonight, Y/N. Love, Reggie”

You break. It suddenly becomes real to you - he’s actually gone. Him, Luke, and Alex are really gone. You crash to your knees, audibly crying and almost screaming until Bobby helps you up and takes you into a much needed hug. You still let out vocal yelps and whimpers from deep in your chest. 

You remember nothing else from that night, which is probably for the best since you don’t want to remember anything about it. Instead, you relive the memory of kissing him over and over. It’s almost like you knew that would be the last time you’d kiss him, so you tried to jam the lifetime of kisses you would’ve had into one.

[backdraft-bimbo]

too late to turn back now

Sam and Bucky go undercover at a club in Germany while tailing some insurgents. (You can probably guess what happens next.)

Words: 1401

Chapters: 1/1

James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson

It takes thirty seconds for Sam to spot a third insurgent entering the club, swiftly weaving through the haze of moving bodies. Everyone is either drunk, stoned, or both, and Sam can tell that he, Bucky, and the Flag-Smashers are the only ones here who aren’t having the time of their lives. Despite their chichi getup and fabricated gangster backstories, all Sam and Bucky have going for them now is the crowded chaos. 

So maybe their cover is a little flimsy. That’s probably why it doesn’t come as a surprise precisely fifteen seconds later, when the mission takes a steep downturn. The insurgent starts to beeline it in their direction. And shit, this guy is moving with purpose, like he can see past the sweaty crowd, eyes boring right through their flashy suits and expensive jewelry. 

Sam lets out a low, breathy hiss. “Shittt!” 

Bucky surreptitiously glances behind his shoulder. Not half a second later, he whips his head back in Sam’s direction. How in the world can he manage to look even grouchier?

“Great,” Bucky deadpans. “I thought Zemo said–”

“I know, man. C’mon.” 

Sam grabs Bucky by his finely tailored sleeve, forcing them through the bustling crowd of party-goers. They relocate to the back corner of the club. Kicking away a plastic cup on the floor, Sam leans nonchalantly against one of the marble columns and lowers his voice. “Look, I know what Zemo said. But I don’t think he knew this was gonna happen. Either he somehow set us up from inside his fancy little jail cell, or these kids just felt like adding more to the party.” 

Bucky frowns, looking antsy. “What the hell do we do now?” 

Great question. 

Sam purses his lips, craning his neck to scan for the initial two insurgents. If they get caught now, there’s no chance of finding whatever cave the Flag-Smashers set up shop in. The Super Soldier serum isn’t a joke; the world doesn’t need any more enhanced humans prancing around. It’s more trouble than it’s worth, which these kids just don’t understand yet. 

Bucky elbows Sam lightly in the ribs, nodding toward the center of the crowd. The Flag-Smashers are moving like they’re about to meet in the middle. Something useful has to come out of this mission; something as simple as a code word may give them the upper hand. Unfortunately, the bass is so loud it’s literally vibrating Sam’s teeth, so it looks like he has to rely on his eyes for a lead.

The Flag-Smashers are doing some kind of hand signal, maybe a greeting, that Sam can’t distinguish. None of them cover their faces anymore, masks loosely hooked on the hoops of their jeans. Sam guesses the “Freedom Fighters” symbol was just a way to get access to the club, which is definitely more efficient than his and Bucky’s alternative. Going to Zemo’s cell and demanding VIP access to an underground European club earned a spot on the list of sophomoric lunacy Sam never thought he’d take part in. 

“Sam,” Bucky cautions. “They’re looking at us.” 

That’s about when Sam realizes they aren’t being as subtle as they can afford to be. The insurgents are shooting them sporadic glances, murmuring something amongst themselves, and for a blood curdling moment, Sam thinks that’s it: game over, mission ruined. Bucky is holding a few steady fingers on the underside of his glove, the metal peeking out from beneath the fabric. As soon as the insurgents start to shuffle forward, Bucky speaks again; louder, with clear annoyance in his tone: “They’re coming right at us.” 

Because he’s hopeful at heart, or maybe just foolish, Sam isn’t convinced the Flag-Smashers recognize them yet. Take it from the Falcon himself: nobody notices Sam Wilson until the goggles come on. And Bucky’s bionic arm is the Winter Soldier’s trademark, which is no problem either; he’s got the cashmere suit and gloves. 

Although they do look fresh as hell tonight, Sam isn’t so confident in their disguises that he thinks the Flag-Smashers aren’t going to recognize them from a few yards away. These kids aren’t stupid; they’re dangerous. And this is too important. Steve would have thought of something. 

That’s precisely the moment an idea pops into Sam’s head. 

Wow. 

It might be nuts, and it violates the hell out of workplace professionalism, but it’s all he can think of. Sam can’t exactly evaluate the pros and cons of what he’s about to do, since the Flag-Smashers are getting closer with each passing second, and Bucky is glaring at them sporadically like a tiger about to pounce. 

Okay, this is it. 

Sam grabs Bucky by the lapels of his suit, meeting his deep gaze as he pulls them chest to chest. The guy ogles at him like he’s grown a second head. In any other situation, Sam would’ve made fun of how out-of-character that expression is on Bucky, but his pulse is pounding so fast he can hardly think straight. 

“Bucky, just go with me on this.” 

Sam leans forward and kisses him. 

Bucky reacts the same way he does when a stranger bumps into him on the sidewalk. There’s a cursory shudder of alarm accompanied by the initial surprise, which Sam tries his best to assuage. It’s almost like trying to tame the sea during a storm, smoothing out all the waves until the calm returns. He brings a hand up to the back of Bucky’s neck, brushing the skin meaningfully, hoping the gesture isn’t lost on him as the Flag-Smashers approach in his periphery. 

Commit to the role.

Sam admittedly should have thought this through, since the guy he’s frenching is from the 1940s. But after a few seconds more of tangled limbs and barefaced shock, Bucky seems to get it and quits resisting. His hands rise up to roughly grab Sam’s hips; probably to let Sam know he’s pissed. At this point, whatever; Sam can handle Bucky’s irritation. What he can’t handle right now is whatever this feeling is, because it’s like a million little electrical shocks hitting every nerve in his body. If someone told Sam he’d be making out with Bucky Barnes a week ago, he’d have stuffed that comment away into the Things That Will Never Happen lobe of his brain. 

It takes a lot of willpower to remember why they’re in this situation again. Two of the insurgents have decided to thoroughly ignore their little lovemaking session. Which, good. And at this point, Bucky seems understand the strategy appeal. Sam chose kissing because they’re at a club; hookups happen, and physical affection makes people very uncomfortable. So presto! Crisis averted. But just when Sam thinks the coast is clear, he notices the third insurgent ogling at them like he can’t tear his eyes away. 

Bucky clearly notices as well, because he snags Sam by the hair and shoves them against a nearby column. The force of the movement makes Sam stumble forward, deepening the kiss as Bucky angles their faces away from the insurgent. A deep, muffled groan escapes Sam’s throat, and the insurgent visibly goes red in the face, finally turning away to follow the other two, and thank the fucking Lord it’s over now. 

They’re finally alone; as alone as they can be in this place. Sam elegantly shuffles away from Bucky, hands still warm from the other man’s skin. He doesn’t even have a joke for this situation, which proves how empty his head is right now. Somehow, Bucky looks significantly less flustered than Sam feels, but maybe he’s just used to hiding it. As Sam tries to process that, he squints up at Bucky’s profile in the club’s vibrant blue and green lighting. His dark hair is all ruffled, lips tinted a raw shade of pink. Despite the disarray, it’s kind of captivating. 

After a few minutes of silence, Sam speaks up. 

“So...where’d you learn to kiss like that?” 

Without pause: “I’m 106 years old, not a virgin.” 

It doesn’t take long before Sam is doubling over on the floor, gasping for air like he hasn’t breathed a day in his life, because holy shit. What a way to keep their cover. His hysteria is clearly contagious, since Bucky starts to smile too, a few short bursts of laughter bubbling up from his throat. For a long moment, Sam completely forgets what they’re doing. 

Right. 

On with the mission.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//arranged marriage headcannons//

Characters: Bokuto Koutarou/Sakusa Kiyoomi/Oikawa Tooru because I couldn’t resist him being a prince too

Request: Arranged Royal Marriage!AU Scenarios with Bo and Omi cause we self indulgent af- 😂

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 1.5K (~500 a piece)

Notes: Bokuto may have approximately 37 weakness, but I have one and that’s Royalty AUs

Bokuto Koutarou

Oh, he was excited

Finding someone to sit on the throne beside him had been stressing him out since he was 15, so when his parents told him that he had been arranged to marry someone from one of the neighboring kingdoms since birth?  He was relieved. 

He was counting down the days until he would meet you for the first time, but it was still a little wild to him that the first time he’d be meeting you, he would also be getting married?

But, the life of a prince, you know?  And he was just glad that the hard part had been done for him.

Things are a little rocky at the start of your relationship, for sure.  You two were raised very differently and tended to butt heads.  He was still pretty young at only 18, so this prince liked to have his fun, riding around the countryside and neglecting his important duties with some of his most trusted knights.

You, however, were brought up more refined and preferred to focus on your royal day to day routine before doing more of the fun things around the palace.

But, one night as the two of you were laying in bed, just getting to know each other, you had mentioned that you had never gone horse-back riding.  

WELL, Prince Koutarou was not about to have that.  So, here he is, pulling you out of bed at 2 a.m. to take you down to the stables and show you one of his favorite pastimes. 

When I say it was a disaster, I mean it was an absolute fucking disaster.

It started off fine.  You were sitting in front of him so he could hold on to you to make sure that you didn’t fall.  

And you didn’t!

But, he sure as hell did.  He always rode bareback, but because you were riding in front of him, he had to sit further back and uhhhhhh poor prince just slipped right tf off.

You, of course, wanted to stop and check if he was okay, but one problem.  You know nothing about horses.  How did you stop this thing?  Did you just jump off and hope the horse would stop?  Did you say, “Stop”?  You weren’t really even sure how to steer.

Thankfully, Bokuto’s got a pretty loud voice, so he was able to call his horse to a halt as he pulled himself off the ground, limping towards you because the poor baby definitely hurt himself from that fall.

But, he helps you down and decides that maybe you guys should just walk back to the palace.  So, he’s got a hand holding onto the reins of his horse while his other arm is slung around your shoulders for support so he doesn’t further injure himself.

He did eventually teach you how to ride though and when both of you are feeling restless and can’t sleep, you’ll go on midnight rides around the grounds together, sometimes going down to the lake in the woods to skip rocks or play around in the water like little kids.

It does take a while, but you two warm up to one another and form a genuine loving relationship.  He’s a really fun, kind-hearted prince and becomes an even better king to his people

Sakusa Kiyoomi

ANGRY BOY

Okay, he’s not super mad, but he’s definitely less than pleased about finding out that he’s engaged to someone he hasn’t even met.  

He’ll demand to meet with you before the official wedding, stating very clearly that if he doesn’t like you, he will call off the entire thing and just be a lone monarch.  And that’s no empty threat and his parents are well aware of that, so they agree to his terms and arrange for you to arrive a month before the actual ceremony for the two of you to meet and get to know each other a little better before actually getting married.

Kiyoomi didn’t know what he was expecting, but he was not expecting his possible bride-to-be to trip out of her carriage and stumble into his arms.  He certainly was not expecting you to laugh and look up at him and say-

“Looks like I’ve already fallen for you.”

He would’ve dropped you right then and there if it wasn’t rude.

No, I’m kidding.  He thought it was kind of funny, because he found himself laughing along at your cheesy joke.  

Honestly, you were really glad that Prince Kiyoomi requested to meet before the wedding.  The idea of having to move to a whole new kingdom and marry a complete stranger all in one day had you worried and fighting a number of anxieties.  

He would show you all over the kingdom and the castle grounds, but the two of you would frequently find yourself tucked away in the library, telling stories about your respective homes.

The way that your eyes lit up when he would ask you about the history of your kingdom or the bright smile that took over your face when you’re telling him about your favorite shops in the village?

Oh he’s smitten now.  It’s the level of love and respect that you hold for your own kingdom that makes him believe that you would treat this new home the exact same way.  

Scandalous premarital hand holding in the gardens while you’re hidden under the boughs of a willow tree?  Where the two of you are just sitting on a bench, making jokes or making plans for the future and he just sorta . . .  takes your hand? And places a little kiss on your knuckles??  Yeah that’s the good shit right there.

His kingdom’s number one export is precious metals so that got incorporated into his wedding attire.  Like, oh, I don’t know, a black tux with silver and gold embroidery yeah i’m looking at you elle

Oikawa Tooru

He’s not mad, but he’s not happy about it either. 

Tooru sees this as his parents not having faith in him to pick a partner who would be good for the whole of the kingdom.

In reality?  It was a political move.  You were from one of the more powerful kingdoms in the land, so it made sense that the two of you should be united for a physical representation of the new alliance between the two nations.

He moped about it for weeks after the wedding, which only led to you being unhappy as well and writing to your family about how miserable you were with your new husband.  

Your parents were furious, thinking that your new family wasn’t treating you right.  They were close to ending the alliance right then and there, taking you back, and going to war.  Poor Tooru really almost started a whole ass war smh

But, his parents pretty much told him to get over himself and deal with it, because it had already been done and he couldn’t get out of it.

So, Prince Tooru actually took the time to get to know you and?? You were actually?? Really interesting?  Amazing what giving someone a chance will do huh tooru

You both had a very similar interest in novels and would often find yourselves droning on and on for hours about the meanings of certain passages

There’s a lot of just sitting in silence to read together or sitting in his office and reading to him while he worked on whatever he needed to get done for the day.  

Once he’s warmed up to you, he’s a complete tease, but only within the confines of the castle, because that’s filthy and we can’t have that

But, Prince Tooru is full of shit, so the time will come for the two of you to actually have your first kiss and he’s a flustered mess

Like, I’m talking red faced, not looking at you because he’s embarrassed.  He’s never done this before? How are you so calm? He’s convinced that his heart is going to jump out of his chest and you’re just smiling happily at him? 

I promise, this happens before all of your firsts.  First time you hold hands?  His palms are kinda sweaty and every time he remembers that he’s holding your hand he’s panicking internally

But he’s convinced that he looks cool and collected he doesn’t

But it’s fine, because you think it’s kinda cute and it makes you feel better because you’re just as nervous as he is.  You just hide it a lot better.

Please take care of Prince Tooru.  His people have always seen him unfit to lead because of a past injury that never properly healed.  But, it was only because he worked too hard for his kingdom.  He’s a really kind ruler and just wants what’s best for his people.

[sunflowersteves]

hey hey babe!! can i request a oneshot for steve rogers? maybe one where the reader is his neighbor in dc, and they both have a crush on each other but are too nervous to say anything, and finally sam steps in because nothing would happen otherwise? take your time i will literally wait as long as you need 💕💕 love youuu

author’s note || hiii babes!! i really needed this fluff rn so thank you so much for requesting it!! i love youuuuu!!! ugh, you’re literally an angel. I’ve never been to dc so i’m sorry if it’s not accurate

also a wittle psa, sam and bucky are :))))))

warnings || tooth-rotting fluff, steve is a cutie patootie

Marvel Masterlist // Full Masterlist

Brown and crimson leaves crunch beneath your shoes. The air was cold and light as the wind blew against your body making you shiver slightly. You were walking back to your apartment after a long day of work when you decided to take a detour around the Lincoln monument.

You liked the way the trees showed off their brightness with their autumn yellows, oranges, and reds that fluttered around the grassy area. You breathed in slightly to feel the fresh air against your nose and you sighed, a small smile forming on your face.

You sat down on a bench near one of the bright orange trees. You let your bag sit between your feet as you watched kids playing in the park, tourists running around grabbing pictures of the monument, and birds chirping around the trees. You had finally felt relaxed after a stressful day at work.

“Oh- hey, y/n.”

You turn your head to see one of your neighbors, Sam. He had sweats and a black sweatshirt on, sweat was dripping down his face. You grinned at your friend, and he sat down next to you, grinning back at you.

“Going on a run at 6:00 pm, huh?”

Sam nodded exasperatedly, “We just got back from a mission and Steve couldn’t get out of bed.”

Your heart skips a beat at just hearing his name fall off of Sam’s lips. Your palms almost got sweaty and sticky, your heart beating rapidly. Sam snickered slightly from your figure. Your eyes suddenly got wide with realization. If Sam was here on a run that meant-

“O-Oh, u-uh, hey.”

Steve gives you the smallest wave ever while you seem to think the dead grass is more interesting and stare down.

“H-Hey.”

You couldn’t see it but Steve’s face flushed red at the sound of your voice. You could hear a slight giggle who you assume came from Sam but you honestly weren’t paying much attention. You and Steve still didn’t say anything. You were way too flustered to utter a single word and even if you did, you knew it would be a rambling mess.

Sam just rolls his eyes at the two of you and gets up from the bench. He smiles at you and winks with an all knowing gleam in his eyes. You internally groan at yourself for acting like such a fool around the super soldier.

“See you around, neighbor.”

You wave back at Sam and watch Steve intently as he’s practically tripping over his own feet, trying to catch up with Sam.

~~

“Sam, please, just cancel it.”

Sam just rolls his eyes for what it seemed like the millionth time. He sits down next to Steve on the couch, resting his feet on the coffee table. Steve was currently munching on some popcorn for their weekly movie night.

“I’ve invited Bucky too, you know.”

Steve scoffs, “But he’s your boyfriend! If you invited her it would be like a d-double date.”

Sam had invited you to have dinner with them tonight. He had slipped a piece of paper under your door that had all the information needed. You had run into them while leaving your apartment one day and said you could come—much to Steve’s horror.

“And would that be so bad?”

Steve snaps his mouth shut in irritation, knowing that Sam was right. It wouldn’t be bad for him to go on a double date with you. It would be the quite opposite like a dream come true. Ever since you had moved into the same complex as them, Steve couldn’t get you out of his head.

Your cute fashion styles and beautiful features have always made him swoon in every way possible. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t ever talk to you. He’d just freeze like a deer in headlights and would avoid all contact with you as possible.

“Look, it’ll just be the four of us. It won’t be that bad, okay? Just dinner.”

Steve let out air that he didn’t realize he was even holding. He nodded towards his friend while Sam just shook his head.

~~

You take a deep breath before knocking on the soft brown wooden door. You were extremely nervous. The utmost nervous you had probably ever been since you had to give a presentation in front of around 100 people for college.

It took you about an hour and a half to decide on what type of wine to take over. So yeah, nervous was a bit of an understatement.

You heard some arguments behind the door but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Sam opened the door with a bright smile and gasped at the wine bottle sitting in your hand. He ushered you inside and took the bottle from you. You set your belongings where Sam told you to and went over to the kitchen.

Steve was tucked away in the corner, still trying not to make any contact with you whatsoever. You honestly wanted to do the same. He looked as handsome as ever with a plaid button up and jeans that hugged his perfect thighs.

When you had walked through the door, Steve choked on his water and started a coughing fit. You looked utterly gorgeous and Steve couldn’t release his gaze.

Sam diverts your attention to the other guest that arrived and you smiled, shaking the guy’s hand. You learned that his name was Bucky and that Sam and him were dating, which a bright smile landed upon your face.

You all sat down at the table when dinner was finally ready. Bucky and Sam, of course, sat side by side which made you and Steve sit next to one another. Steve sent a small glare towards Sam before sitting down in his chair, occasionally giving glances your way.

You mingled for a while, laughing about whatever argument Sam and Bucky seemed to have. They were quite entertaining with the amount of banter they had with each other but you never missed the love the two of them had.

Sam glances your way and places his fork down on the table. “Y/n, you look absolutely gorgeous. Doesn’t she, Steve?”

Steve chokes on a piece of lettuce, his eyes going as wide as they can. “Oh! u-um , yes! You look so amazing! I mean, well, you always look gorgeous. It’s not that you don’t look absolutely beautiful right now! I mean you do I-”

Steve shuts his mouth and drops his gaze awhile you just stared at him wide eyed. His face turned bright red, to the point of the tip of his nose almost looked like a cherry. He closed his eyes in pain, wondering when the suffering would ever end. He had definitely made a total fool of himself in front of you. He really wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

“T-thanks.”

You don’t dare look up from your food, playing with the food slightly. Sam and Bucky just roll their eyes at Steve. He couldn’t get one sentence out around you and while it was very sweet, it got super annoying when all everyone wanted was for the two of you to date already.

The conversation goes back to normal when you all finish eating. Steve starts to grab some plates and heads into the kitchen.

“While Bucky and I set up the living room, why don’t you and Steve do the dishes?”

Once again, Steve starts to blush. His cheeks were on fire at the mere thought of being so close to you while doing the dishes. You walked into the kitchen with some plates and handed them over. He gives you a dry towel and the two of you start cleaning the dishes.

He would clear all the food off, grab soup and get it all clean, while you would then dry it off and place them on the dish rack. You did this for about five minutes until Steve just stopped and turned to look at you.

“You do look really beautiful. I’m sorry about that earlier.”

You giggle while he rubs the back of his head in embarrassment. “It’s fine, Steve. You look pretty handsome yourself.” His eyes snap up to look at yours, his body subconsciously leans forward a bit, setting down whatever item that was in his hand.

Before you know it, you’re doing the same. Steve practically towers over you, his chest near yours. You couldn’t quite reach up to him--with him being a super soldier and all. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in even closer. Your noses touched and a clash of electricity flowed through you.

His lips looked buttery, they were bright pink and soft. Your hands rested on top of his chest, your lips just barely ghosting each other. You were so close to kissing. Finally, all the pining and the nervous mingling was fading away.

“Are you guys done in there?!”

You both jump five feet away from each other, staring wide eyed. You couldn’t leave Steve’s panicked gaze so you just stood there, not answering the question.

“S-should we, uh, go?”

You nodded but didn’t say anything as you followed Steve into the living room. Sam and Bucky had taken the couch so what was left was the love seat that sat in the corner. You and Steve tumbled over there, still very nervous from what just happened in the kitchen

“Oh my god. I’m so tired of you two.”

Sam sat up onto the couch, his eyes glazing towards you. Bucky was trying his hardest not to laugh at the two of you but it was pretty obvious the two of you had almost just kissed.

“Y/n, Steve wants to go on a date with you. Particularly at that fancy restaurant on 4th street.”

You froze in your spot, staring straight at Sam. The shock was evident on your features but you couldn’t help it. You didn’t think Sam would be so forward.

“And you,” He points an accusatory finger at Steve, “Y/n likes you a lot. She wants to go on many dates with you.”

You and Steve don’t say a thing as Sam and Bucky leave the room, making sure that the two of you got this private time. With a slam of Sam’s bedroom door, the two of you were left in silence.

You looked over at Steve while you fiddled with your fingers. You started to tremble slightly at your body became full-on nervous. You then went back to thinking the floor was the most interesting.

Steve glanced slightly over towards you, finding that you were staring at the floor. His face was flushed, and he started to sweat a bit. Sam had really just exposed the two of you and yet, he still can’t get the words out.

“I-”

“Steve-”

You both turned to each other in unison but your mouths snapped shut. Steve turned back around to face the TV, his eyes only looked at his shoes. You just continued to stare at him, biting your lip. You became flustered at your own thoughts, contemplating on if you were actually confident enough to do what you were going to do.

You shake your head slightly at yourself. You shouldn’t be worried about anything considering that Sam just concealed your secrets but you couldn’t help it. Steve made you incredibly nervous with butterflies buzzing around your stomach.

“Fuck it.” You mumble out.

“What-”

Steve is surprised by a soft pair of lips on his. Your hands were flesh upon his chest again, but he had been taken by surprise. His shoulders were tense and his eyes were blown wide open, but then he started to realize what had happened.

You are kissing him.

You are kissing him.

Steve starts to melt into the kiss, his arms coming around to rest on your waist. His eyes flutter shut and his lips are molding and bruising against yours. You felt like fire, hot and burning heat that radiated off of the two of you.

Neither of you wanted to break the kiss, never wanting it to end. However, your lungs had other plans and the two of you broke it, gasping for air. You lay your head on his chest, breathing in the sweet smell of Steve while his grip on you tightens.

“Tomorrow at eight?”

“Tomorrow at eight.”

~~

Marvel Taglist: @harrysthiccthighss, @fandomsandxfiles

Steve Rogers Taglist: @harrysthiccthighss

Permanent Taglist: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @teenagereadersciencenerd @hailmary-yramliah

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Sharp Edges

Sam Winchester x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~4880

Warnings: BDSM. Pain play and impact play (hands only, no tools) and discussion of sadism/masochism. The working title for this was “Reluctant Sadist Sam.” Memories of a time Sam pushed the limits of a previously negotiated BDSM scene. Very brief non-explicit masturbation. No actual sex, but it’s very sexy... or at least I think it is? 

A/N: This pairing just, like, snuck up and made itself my OTP when I wasn’t looking, and I’m kinda obsessed with it. Big thanks to @mskathywriteswords for a super helpful edit, to @stunudo for an early read and characterization cheerleading (plus this whole Spencer Reid Thing, which is pretty much her fault), and to @fookinghelljensensthighs, for a brainstorming sesh about crucial jizz-related plot questions. 

Sam hesitates outside the door for longer than he wants to admit. He’s been thinking about this for years, now. It’s not like there’s any doubt left in his mind, but stepping through that door makes it real. Until he steps through that door, he can brush this off; he only acted on the impulses when he didn’t have a soul, right? They’re not his. Not really. 

They are. He knows it. 

Years of wondering, guilt, self-loathing. Months of research, asking around, making connections. Weeks since he got the invitation, weeks of nervous anticipation and doubt. Fuck if he’s backing out now, even if he does feel like he’s choking. 

He wipes sweaty palms on his jeans and goes inside. 

He’s not expecting Lindsey to remember him, but she does, and she greets him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. She’s wearing knee-high boots and a corset that shoves her cleavage up toward her chin, and Sam feels underdressed in his plain black t-shirt, not to mention painfully inexperienced. 

“Want a soda or anything?” she asks brightly, like she’s the head of the PTA instead of the dungeon mistress. “Need me to show you around?” 

“No, thanks,” Sam says, tucking his hair behind his ears nervously. “I think… I think I might just want to hang back for a bit.” 

“Of course, sweetheart, whatever you need.” 

Sam’s good at hiding his fear; he’s practically made a career of it. He puts on his most confident mask and starts walking. 

He’s not really sure where to look, at first. His immediate instinct is to avert his eyes. There’s a startling amount of skin on display, but more importantly, there are scenes being played out all around him that are straight out of Sam’s fantasies - the dark, secret ones - the ones he couldn’t admit to, for most of his life. 

It took losing his soul to ask for what he really wanted. 

The memories from that time, back when something important was missing, are tinted red and foggy. He was selfish, when he didn’t have a soul. It’s the one thing he’s always vowed not to be. 

He met a girl in a bar, somewhere in Colorado, and he took her to whatever grimy motel he was calling home that night. When he asked, she giggled, giving him some stupid line about needing to be punished, but when she realized he didn’t just mean a couple light smacks on the ass, she asked him to stop. He shrugged, fucked her anyway, and told her to leave. 

The next night, he found a professional, and he made sure they negotiated the price before he took her back to the motel. Even then… Sam feels a twist of guilt when he remembers the moment her moans became whimpers of pain,  the look of apprehension in her eyes when she realized she might be in over her head. She never used her safeword, but he knew she wasn’t comfortable with it.

He’d made it up to her, of course, afterward, even before he paid her, but it wasn’t out of any selfless desire to see his partner enjoy herself. It was just ego, just another game. The predator in him just wanted to see if he could make her beg for more after she’d begged him to stop. 

When Sam got his soul back, there was a laundry list of foggy red memories that made him feel slimy and sick with shame, but that little vignette was one of the worst. 

Sam doesn’t want it to be like that. He doesn’t want to be that brutal, selfish person who got what he needed, no matter the cost. 

He wants romance: dinner and a movie, flowers, shy first kisses. He wants those things, but he’s starting to realize that he needs more. He needs that sharp edge of pain with his pleasure. He knows, logically, that there are people out there who need to feel it, in the same way he needs to cause it. It’s a matter of finding the right puzzle piece, is all. 

All around him, now, he hears people asking for more, yes, harder, and there’s a sweet, breathless relief coursing through him. He pauses in front of a couple, watching the dom unclip his partner’s leather cuffs from where she’s chained to a ring in the wall. She’s smiling as he murmurs something Sam can’t hear. 

“Please,” she says, beaming up at her partner with this incredible blissed-out expression on her face. 

Sam’s stomach swoops with such an intense longing that it’s almost painful. He looks away. 

He wants that. 

Sam glances around the room again, and his eyes catch on a man who looks like he should be in a college lecture hall, instead of a BDSM party. The guy sticks out like a sore thumb in this sea of black and red and leather; Sam can’t help but notice him, and once he notices, it’s hard to tear his gaze away. He’s wearing a sweater-vest and a tie, for fuck’s sake. He’s got a mop of long, messy hair that makes Sam want to tug.   

The longer Sam looks, the more he notices the sharp edges. The guy is tall and twig-thin, gangly, all elbows and angles. The line of his jaw looks like it was cut with a razor. 

It’s not just the shape of him, though, that’s making Sam think of glinting steel and the rasp of a whetstone. The guy is on his own, hanging back in the same way Sam is, observing… his eyes dart around the room, glancing back and forth, taking it all in with a bright, clear, whip-smart awareness. He’s not smiling, and there’s nothing about his body language that’s welcoming. If someone handled him the wrong way, he’d slice them open.

Sam’s hands twitch. He wants to fit his fingers to the angle of those bones, thumb along the underside of the jaw, index finger running up to the cheekbone. He imagines it would be a perfect fit. 

Sam shivers and looks away. 

He sneaks a glance again, a few seconds later. The guy’s looking right at him. Sam’s stomach flips. He smiles hesitantly, and gets a blatant assessment in return, an appraising up-and-down. Sam feels like he’s passed some sort of test when the guy starts walking toward him, weaving easily through the crowd. 

He stops abruptly when he’s in front of Sam, and Sam feels off-balance, somehow. 

“I’m Spencer,” he says, in a soft scratchy voice that makes Sam want to lean in to hear better. 

“Sam.” He sticks out his hand. 

Spencer doesn’t take it; he waves instead, an awkward little gesture that’s oddly goofy and endearing, even with the frown line creasing his forehead and the shrewd expression on his face. 

“You’re the new guy Lindsey was telling me about.” He tilts his head, almost birdlike as he blinks and waits. 

“I… guess so? Why would she…” 

“I assumed she meant new here, but you’re new to all of it, aren’t you?” It’s not a question. 

Sharp, Sam thinks again, flustered. He shrugs. 

Spencer’s eyes flick over his face like he’s reading lines of text. There’s something closed-off about the way he’s holding himself, tension in his features, mistrustful or maybe defensive. 

Spencer licks his lips as he thinks, and Sam stares at his mouth. His mouth isn’t all points and angles like the rest of him; it’s plush and pink, wide, expressive. 

“Hey, Professor,” says a woman, brushing a hand down Spencer’s arm as she passes, and Spencer gives her a quirk of his lips that’s not quite a smile. 

“Are you really a professor?” Sam asks. 

“No. It’s just because of the way I dress.” He says it matter-of-factly, but Sam notices the way his eyes drop for a second. He’s self-conscious. 

“I can’t picture you in leather pants,” Sam says wryly. 

“But you’re trying, aren’t you?” Spencer asks, with a flicker of an amused, mischievous smile. It’s gone just as quick as it came, but it leaves Sam feeling warm and pleased. He already wants to see that smile again. 

“I think I missed the memo about the uniform,” he admits. 

Spencer glances around and says, “I can see how adhering to a certain set of aesthetic cues would help members of a subculture identify each other in everyday life, but it does seem unnecessary here. Something about dressing up just to meet expectations seems disingenuous.” 

“You’re really not a professor?” Sam asks, almost unbearably curious. 

“No.” Spencer hesitates. “To answer your earlier question, Lindsey told me to keep an eye out for you because she seemed to think we were here for… similar reasons.” 

“Oh,” Sam manages. He feels hot and cold and panicky, and he wishes he’d gotten a drink, if only to have something to do with his hands. “You, um. You like…” 

“Pain,” Spencer says crisply, with an almost clinical detachment. “I enjoy experiencing pain. And you enjoy inflicting it.” 

“Yeah,” Sam says, mouth dry. 

Spencer’s watching him closely, frowning again. “There’s nothing wrong with it, you know.” 

“I… yeah,” Sam says. “I guess I know that? Just, um, I always thought of myself as pretty traditional. Not big on one night stands, I like… relationships.”

“And you don’t think people who are into BDSM can have traditional relationships?” Spencer asks, smirking slightly. 

Foot, meet mouth. 

“No, not like that, I just - if I’m into someone, I want to treat them right. I’m a romantic.” 

“A beating can be very romantic,” Spencer deadpans. 

Sam sputters out a laugh. “I - I guess. Sure.” 

“So, what, you’ve always been about the Al Green and missionary, and you figured you’d try something new?” His voice is dry and amused, and he’s watching Sam, just waiting for a reaction to the needling. 

“Not exactly,” Sam says, grimacing. 

“What, exactly, then?” 

Sam can’t remember the last time anyone made him feel like this, like the conversation is a fencing match that he’s losing spectacularly; Spencer disarmed him already and is still toying with him, landing one glancing blow after another, just to see if he can. 

Sam stammers for a second before saying, “I’ve always been interested in this, I just - never had an opportunity, really.” 

“Don’t lie. You don’t have any reason to be embarrassed,” Spencer says, frowning. 

Sam sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. He forces himself to spit out the truth: “I always wanted to think of myself as a nice guy. The things I want… there’s nothing nice about what I want, when it comes to sex. I couldn’t admit that until recently.”

Spencer smiles, and his whole face is incandescent with it. He tamps down the wattage of the smile with a twitch of his lips, eyes darting around as he thinks. Sam gets the feeling he already knew the answer, and was just waiting to see whether Sam would admit it. 

“It’s not always about sex,” Spencer offers. “Sometimes you just… want to get out of your head, you know?” 

Sam considers that for a moment, and he looks at Spencer, watching his fingers as they tap a silent rhythm against the side of his leg. 

“Is that what you want?” he asks, and he’s proud of himself for how steady his voice sounds. 

“Maybe.” Spencer meets his gaze evenly. “But you’re very strong, very inexperienced, and very anxious, and that’s not usually a good combination in someone who gets off on being in charge.” 

Sam bristles instinctively before he hears the question in it. 

“That’s not - it’s not like that,” he says with a sigh. “It’s not a power trip thing. It’s not about overpowering someone, I don’t want to tie you up, I don’t - it’s not like that. And I’m not inexperienced.” 

Spencer’s eyes narrow. “You said -” 

“I’m new to this,” Sam interrupts, and gestures around them at the party. “I’m not new to… pain.” 

For the first time, there’s a hint of curiosity in Spencer’s eyes, an inkling that he doesn’t have Sam quite as figured out as he’d thought. 

“Why are you here, then? What do you want to get out of this?” Spencer asks. 

Sam thinks about that, trying not to fidget as he figures out how to say it. 

“I don’t want it to be just about… what I get out of it,” Sam says slowly. “I want someone who - who needs it the same way I do, so that it’s not… I don’t want it to be something I do to someone, I want to do this with someone.”  He hesitates and adds, “With you. If you want.” 

He can see Spencer analyzing him, analyzing his words, weighing the odds, calculating the risks. 

“I’m not going to have sex with you. Not tonight,” Spencer says coolly. “You can touch yourself, but I’m not going to touch you.” 

Sam shrugs. “Okay.” 

“No tools, no toys, no restraints, not the first time.” His voice is dispassionate, matter-of-fact, like he’s reading out a grocery list. “Just your hands. You can scratch, but don’t draw blood.” 

“Okay,” Sam says. He’s glad Spencer said it before he had to admit he wasn’t confident enough, yet, to use a flogger on a stranger. His voice cracks. “Safeword?” 

“Lateral orbitofrontal cortex.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes, I’m aware that it’s three words.” 

It startles a laugh out of Sam. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Spencer’s mouth twitches as he suppresses a smile. “Seriously. But I only say ‘stop’ if I really mean it.” 

“I understand. If I didn’t get the joke, would you have called this whole thing off?”

Spencer’s lips twitch again. He just shrugs. “Anything else we need to talk about?” 

“After?” Sam asks. “What can I - how do I help, afterward?” 

Spencer pauses, a strange expression flickering over his face for a moment before he says, “Don’t leave?” 

It sounds like a question. Sam doesn’t think it was supposed to sound like a question. 

“Of course. Is that all?” 

Spencer shrugs. “That’s all. Just. Stay, for a minute. I’ll tell you, if there’s anything else I need. That’s the only thing I… can’t always bring myself to ask for, in the moment.” 

He gives Sam a very practiced, casual sort of smile, nonchalant, blinking up at him innocently as if to say I’m fine! See? 

The protector in Sam is snarling. He just nods calmly. 

“What about you?” Spencer asks. 

Sam frowns, taken aback by that. It didn’t occur to him that he might need to be taken care of. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Is that okay?”  

“Yes. That’s okay,” Spencer says. This time his little half-smile is sweet and genuine. 

Sam looks around nervously. “Is there anywhere more private? This isn’t really...” 

“Agreed,” Spencer says. “There’s an open door policy, I’m sure Lindsey explained, but there are other rooms where there won’t be a crowd.” 

He leads Sam through the living room, heading up a flight of stairs and down a hallway. Sam catches glimpses of scenes through three open doors before they reach the last room. It’s small, some sort of office, he thinks, lit dimly enough to feel comfortable. There’s no bed, just a loveseat, an end table, and a desk with an office chair, but the desk holds an assortment of toys, chains, and condoms instead of a computer. 

It’s quieter, here. It feels warmer, too, but that might just be Sam’s nerves kicking in. He glances at the open door instinctively as Spencer starts to loosen his tie. 

Spencer notices, of course. “There’s an understanding, with the regulars, that this is where you go if you don’t really want an audience.” 

Sam nods and turns to get a better look at some of the implements on the desk, skin prickling with adrenaline. He runs his fingers over the sleek handle of a riding crop, imagining the sound it would make on skin. 

He’s all too aware of his own inexperience, and he’s all too aware of how badly he could hurt someone with a misplaced blow from the gorgeous leather whip that’s lying next to the crop. He’d want to practice, first, and he’d want to be with someone he trusts, but there’s no denying that he wants. 

Someday, he thinks, and shivers. 

When he turns around again, Spencer’s putting a neatly folded pile of clothes on the loveseat. He brushes his hair out of his eyes as he straightens up, tilting his chin almost defiantly to meet Sam’s gaze. He still looks sharp around the edges, from the angular shape of his Adam’s apple, bobbing as he swallows, to the jut of his hipbones. There’s something brittle about the way he holds himself. 

“Where do you want me?” he asks quietly, with a crack in his voice that belies the careful blankness on his face. “Um, bearing in mind that most of this room is probably highly unsanitary and I’m something of a germaphobe. Minimal contact with furniture would be… ideal.” He wrinkles his nose and Sam huffs out a laugh. 

“Over here. Brace yourself against the wall.” 

Spencer walks over silently and settles with his forearms on the wall, his head bowed, and goes completely still. 

Sam lets himself stare for one long moment, taking it all in: the delicate curve of his bent neck, the prominent ridge of his spine, the lean muscles that shift under pale skin, shoulder blades that Sam wants to run his thumb across to test whether they’d cut him as easily as he imagines. 

There’s tension in the way he’s holding himself, though. Sam frowns to himself and steps closer. 

Sam’s been hiding this, his whole life; he’s been burying this sharp, nasty piece of himself, ignoring need in favor of romance, affection, emotion. He didn’t think they could coexist. 

He has a feeling that Spencer’s been doing the opposite: slipping into this formal, scripted exchange of limits and safewords and scientific explanations, being perfectly clear about what he needs but never admitting what he wants. 

The party is still going on outside, but the silence between them is heavy enough to drown out the noise of it. Sam takes one deep breath, then another, syncing his inhales to the steady rise of Spencer’s shoulders, and sidles closer, standing at Spencer’s side where he’s visible.

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if he’s crossing a line, before following his instinct and resting a gentle hand on Spencer’s back, right between his shoulderblades. Spencer doesn’t flinch at the touch, but Sam can tell he’s surprised.  

“You good?” Sam asks quietly. 

Spencer turns his head slightly, looking sideways at Sam through long lashes. 

“I’m good,” he whispers, in that soft, smoky voice.

“Okay.” 

“Sam?”

“Hmm?”

The corner of Spencer’s mouth crooks up in a shy half-smile. “I’m not gonna break. I’m stronger than I look.” 

“I’d fuckin’ hope so, cause you look like I could snap you with my pinky finger,” Sam says bluntly. Spencer ducks his head and laughs, bright and surprised, and Sam can feel the vibrations of it under his palm. 

“Fair enough,” Spencer says, grinning as he goes still again. He’s not tense any more, though. He’s calm, breathing evenly under Sam’s hand. 

Sam rests his fingertips on the nape of Spencer’s neck for a moment, making his intentions clear. The first drag of his nails is gentle, nowhere near enough pressure to sting. He twists his wrist to drag them back up along the same path, still gentle, and then moves to repeat the process on a new strip of skin, once and then again. He can see the goosebumps running down Spencer’s arms, the way his neck arches, silently asking for more. 

“Are you sure?” Sam asks. 

His voice is quiet, but there’s no hesitation when he whispers, “Yes.” 

Sam curls his fingers in and drags one knuckle down the knobby bumps of his vertebrae. 

“Okay,” he repeats. 

Every lingering bit of doubt and hesitation and anxiety disappear with the first sharp crack of his palm coming down. Spencer hisses in a breath, shivers, and Sam exhales with him. 

His body goes fizzy and focused, suddenly. It’s like in the last moments of a fight, when Sam knows he’ll win, he knows exactly what to do, he sees what needs to happen with absolute clarity, and all that’s left is to trust his muscles to get the job done. It feels good. It feels like this is exactly where Sam’s meant to be. 

Two more blows, in quick succession, and the next exhale is more like a gasp. The sound sends heat lancing through Sam’s gut. 

He’s careful about it, precise, still holding back, as he moves lower. He knows how to use his hands, how to hit with just the right amount of force, which spots will hurt, which spots he should avoid unless he wants to cause real damage. Sam’s been practicing for this his whole life, in a way. 

He lands a light smack on one thigh, then the other, then harder, on the same spots. Sam’s vision tunnels down to the red flush that’s already blossoming on Spencer’s pale skin. Something dark and possessive curls in his stomach. 

The next impact pulls a rough, gorgeous sound from Spencer’s throat. Sam gives him a second to recover before doing it again, and then again, until his palm is smarting with the force of it. 

He pauses abruptly. He can see the way Spencer tenses, waiting for a blow that doesn’t come. Instead Sam brushes the tips of his fingers over red, heated skin, feather-light, making Spencer shudder, before dragging three fingernails delicately up his spine again. 

“I like the way my handprints look on you,” Sam says quietly. Spencer sucks in a shaky breath. Sam rakes his fingernails down again, digging in this time, and Spencer’s exhale breaks on a low, gravelly groan. 

The raised red lines trail down his back, a perfect set of three all the way down the right side of his spine. Sam takes a moment to admire them before giving him a matching set on the left.  He traces those lines again, smoothing them with his fingertips, fascinated by the feel of raised flesh. 

Spencer is trembling, but he’s still, waiting, ready, and there’s a dizzying level of trust implicit in that stillness. 

Sam’s blindsided by the gut-punch of arousal he feels at that realization. He takes a deep breath, putting it to the side. He’s determined to prove to himself that this doesn’t have to be selfish. 

He brings his hand down again with a powerful snap of his wrist that makes Spencer whimper. His skin must be sensitive now, blood rushing to every spot Sam’s marked, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. 

Sam puts some muscle into the next one, and that’s saying something. He’s strong, he knows he is, and he pauses to gauge the reaction. Spencer lets out another of those breathy, beautiful whimpers, and Sam can see the shudder that goes through him. Sam rakes his fingernails up the tender, overheated skin he just hit, nothing gentle about it, and Spencer arches his back, squirming slightly. 

He’s panting; they both are. Sam realizes that they’re breathing in sync, and he takes another deep heaving breath that matches the rise and fall of Spencer’s shoulders. 

Sam gives in to the urge, finally, and tangles his fingers in Spencer’s hair, tugging his head back so Sam can see his face clearly: eyes closed, lashes fluttering, a sheen of sweat on those lethal cheekbones, his mouth slack. There’s a flush decorating the pale skin, patchy, spilling all the way from his cheeks to the hollow of his neck and down his chest. He looks totally relaxed, peaceful, like he could melt under Sam’s hands. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Sam bites out, before he can help himself, and then asks, “You good?” 

“Yes.” It’s a gasp more than a word. Spencer’s eyes are still closed. 

“More?”

Spencer licks his lips and swallows hard, and Sam watches the way his throat moves with it. He whispers, “Please.” 

Heat thuds through Sam’s belly, urgent and overwhelming. He ignores it, ignores how hard he is, ignores everything but the way Spencer’s head lolls forward when Sam releases his hair and the way he moans at the next hit. 

Sam’s not holding back any more. 

There’s a rhythm to it: the sound of his palm, crack, and the choked, rasping sound that it pulls from Spencer’s lips, nnngh, and the steady thump-thump of Sam’s heartbeat pounding in his ears, and it crescendos quickly, until the ragged cries turn desperate and wrecked.  

“Last one,” he warns. 

Crack.

“I need -” 

Sam thinks of Spencer’s “no touching” rule, but he can’t bring himself to move away entirely. He tangles his fingers in Spencer’s hair again, tugging gently and then combing through the messy curls, and Spencer leans into it, catlike. He lets out a deep, ragged groan as he touches himself, movements fast and urgent.

“Did so good,” Sam says fiercely. His fingers twist and tug, sharp enough to sting, and he curls the other hand around Spencer’s side, digging his thumbnail into the ridge of his hipbone. That’s all it takes; he can feel the head-to-toe shudder, the last surge of tension before Spencer shakes almost violently under his hands.

Spencer crumples like a puppet with his strings cut. 

“C’mere, I’ve got you,” Sam says hoarsely, getting an arm around him and maneuvering so that they both have their backs to the wall as they slide to the floor. 

Spencer ends up tucked against Sam’s side, folded under his arm like he belongs there. He’s breathing harsh and heavy, and Sam cups the round of his shoulder with one hand, running his thumb in mindlessly soothing circles, waiting for him to come back to himself. 

As for Sam… he’s hard, still, more turned on than he can remember being in a long time, but there’s the strangest sense of calm settling into his body, a bone-deep satisfaction that has nothing to do with sex. 

This isn’t the same vicious, feral sort of satisfaction that he remembers. It’s nothing like crimson-tinted memories of lashing out rough and wild, like some sort of savage animal he’d unleashed. There’s nothing selfish about this.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathless at the wave of blissed-out relief that’s crashing down around him. 

“You good?” he asks, falling back on what seems to be his mantra for the evening. 

“I’m… no, not really, hang on,” Spencer mumbles, and Sam flinches, moving away instinctively. 

“Shit, sorry, what -” 

“No, wait, that’s not - just… can you reach the tissues, or do I actually have to stand up right now?” Spencer asks, with a disgruntled sort of glare at the box of Kleenex on the end table. 

Sam laughs, awkward and self-conscious. Spencer blinks owlishly up at him, shaking his hair out of his eyes. Then a smile spreads over his face slowly and he’s laughing too as Sam leans and stretches over to grab the box. 

“The male orgasm is really inconvenient sometimes,” Spencer mutters. 

Sam lets out another snort of laughter, looking away to give him some privacy as he cleans up. He’s not sure what the etiquette of this whole situation is; it’s such a strange thing, oddly intimate, and even though Sam’s still fully-dressed, he feels exposed in a way he’s not used to. 

“Now I’m good,” Spencer says quietly. He’s got his knees tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around them, but he tilts his head back against the wall and aims a hazy, heavy-lidded stare at Sam. His lips part and curl up in a barely-there smile, and his tongue flicks out over the pink curve of his lower lip. 

Those edges that Sam first noticed are harder to see, now; he’s all soft eyes and softer mouth, flushed skin, messy hair… all except the line of his jaw. That’s still wickedly, unmistakably sharp. 

Spencer should come with a warning sign: handle with care. Sam’s not sure who that sign would be protecting. It could be handle with care: fragile, or, just as easily, handle with care: sharp edges. 

Either way, there’s a good chance of someone getting hurt here. 

“Can I kiss you?” Sam asks. 

Spencer’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly with surprise, and his pupils are huge and dark, liquid-looking, hypnotic. He blinks, slowly, and suddenly looks about ten years younger. He’d been so self-assured ordering Sam not to draw blood; that confidence is gone, now, like he’s had less experience with kissing than with telling people how to hit him. 

Oh, Sam thinks, and tries not to let his own surprise show on his face. 

“Yes,” Spencer whispers. He licks his lower lip again before adding, thready and shy, “Please.” 

Sam reaches out slowly. His pinky, ring, and middle fingers curl around the side of Spencer’s neck, sliding through thin, sweat-damp strands of hair. The L-shape of his thumb and index finger slots to the angle of Spencer’s jaw. He can feel the bone under thin skin, the way the pad of his thumb nestles so neatly between the hard edge of jawbone and the soft give of vulnerable throat. 

It’s a perfect fit.

.

.

.

[myherowritings]

Call Me B-A-B-Y

— “Hi friend! Could I please request a Bakugou x reader where she always calls him nicknames like ‘cutie,baby and sugar’ and stuff like that and his reaction? Bonus points if they’re not dating yet but he gets super flustered cos he likes her :) thank you!” by anonymous

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader word count: 1.8k warnings: swearing, so much fluff

a/n: this makes my heart go doki doki because i loved this request so much. i hope y’all enjoy flustered tsundere bakubabe (⺣◡⺣)♡*

“Hey there, cutie,” you said with a drawl, a crooked smile playing on your lips.

Bakugou grunted, ignoring the tinge of heat he felt on his ears. He was used to this by now--or at least he should have been--but that didn’t stop him from growing tomato red whenever he heard those dumb names come out of your mouth.

What did you take him for? A fucking puppy?

“What do you want?” he grumbled, leaning back against his seat with his arms folded.

Laughing at his grumpy tone, you took your seat in the desk a few rows behind him as Bakugou followed you with his gaze, turning around in his chair.

“Me? I just wanted to say hi before class started,” you said with an innocent blink.

“Well, do you have to say it like that, baka?”

“Well,” you mocked, a glint in your eyes, “since you decided to adopt that oh-so sweet nickname for me, it was only natural to repay the favor.”

Katsuki snorted. Baka. That was most certainly not his stupid pet name for you. And there was no way in hell he would ever give you one.

It didn’t matter that he thought you were smart and attractive, or that you were witty and tactful on and off the field-- No. That didn’t matter to him at all. You were infuriating and annoying with the bright smile and ringing laughter of yours. And he absolutely hated the way your whole face lit up and your eyes sparkled when you grew excited.

Hated it.

And now, when you were staring at him curiously, head tilted slightly to the side and teeth grazing your lower lip in a way that suddenly made it hard for him to swallow… Katsuki hated that even more.

Damn you. You were so fucking infuriating--

“Bakugou!”

At the sudden sound of Aizawa’s voice directed towards him, Katsuki whipped around in his desk to face the front of the classroom. There were a few giggles from the other students and Bakugou was tempted to ask their sorry asses if they knew who the fuck they were laughing at.

But before he could do any of that, Aizawa continued.

“Glad to finally have your attention,” he droned, a hint of amusement on his stoic face. “Now, can I finally begin class or shall we wait a few more minutes for you to finish staring at Y/L/N?”

Bakugou’s face heated up and he wiped his sweaty palms against his pant legs, both wanting to shrink in his seat and pummel all his friends at the suggestive noises and teasing looks they sent him.

“You can continue, Aizawa-sensei,” Ashido piped up, a mischievous smile on her face. “Bakugou can always ogle at Y/L/N after class or during lunch like he usually does.”

“WHAT THE FUCK? YOU LITTLE--!”

“Language, Bakugou,” Aizawa said in a warning tone he knew meant business.

He cut himself off with a strangled sighed, jaw clenched so tight it almost hurt.

They were dumbasses. Every last one of them.

But he’d be damned if he didn’t admit hearing your small, embarrassed laughter was worth all of that-- No matter just how humiliating it was.

And it was definitely worth the comment you made to him at the end of class, a shy smile on your face as you whispered, “You’re even cuter when you’re flustered…cutie.”

Katsuki scoffed.

Yeah… Worth it.

- - - - -

“Good morning, love,” you greeted, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek as you walked over to his seat in class.

Your classmates who were here early (well, earlier than Aizawa, at least) watched the two of you with careful eyes.

“Did Y/L/N just kiss Bakugou?” Sero whispered in shock as he and Ashido stared at the scene.

Mina nodded slowly, as if she didn’t believe her own two eyes. “And does Bakugou look like he…liked it?”

Katsuki smirked in amusement at the surprise evident on Class 1-A’s faces. He hadn’t seen them this wide-eyed except for when they stared in awe at his power. But he ignored them all, instead quirking a brow at you.

“Tch. Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean you can call me pet names now.”

“Oh, please, love,” you sighed and his face heat up when you squished his cheek. “I’ve called you pet names before we started dating-- What makes you think I’d stop now?”

He snorted. “Wishful thinking on my part.”

You nudged him with your elbow, sticking your tongue out with a pouty expression. “You might as well get used to it since you’re stuck with me now, love.”

“Fine, but you don’t have to say it after every fucking sentence--”

The two of you bickered back and forth, the smiles on your faces and glimmers in your eyes showing that neither of you were actually mad. In fact, you were the only one Bakugou would banter like this with in the first place.

And he actually quite enjoyed it.

“So they are dating?!” exclaimed Sero in a hushed voice, gaze going back and forth between you and Bakugou. “When did this happen?”

“Maybe that one weekend when no one knew where either of them were,” suggested Yaoyorozu.

“Or maybe when they both just happened to watch the same movie at the same time in the same place that one day,” piped in Mina with a knowing grin.

“Or, do you think it was during lunch when he--”

“I think it’s no one’s damn business!” growled Bakugou, his head starting to hurt from all their chatter.

It wasn’t like he would ever tell those extras, anyways. They deserve to know and he’d rather be damned than admit how--

“It was what Ashido-kun suggested,” you replied, ignoring your boyfriend’s appalled glare at your sudden admittance. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

Mina cheered proudly. “Well, I did!” She held her hand out triumphantly to friends beside her. “And I was right. So pay up.”

There was a loud groan followed by a defeated sigh.

“Fine. A bet is a bet,” Kaminari grumbled as he and Sero handed Ashido and Kirishima some cash.

“Hell yeah!” Eijirou exclaimed, high-fiving his partner in crime.

“Remember, I get a quarter of the money, right?” you hissed from the corner of your mouth.

Kirishima gave you a nod, sliding a few yen in your direction and Mina gave you a thumbs up.

Katsuki gaped open-mouthed at the scene in front of him, watching as you slowly pocketed the cash. Noticing his expression, you stifled a laugh, pressing a kiss against his jawline.

He stood there in shock. “What the fuck just happened?”

“Nothing, love,” you assured.

Bakugou’s right eye twitched and his cheeks reddened in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. And to think he ever believed dating you would be easy…

“Oh, stop looking so angry, love,” you said cheekily. He really needed to assure you pet names weren’t meant to be said after every fucking sentence. “We can sneak out and grab dinner at your favorite tonight restaurant.” You patted the top of your pocket. “My treat.”

He snorted, a smile playing on his face.

Dating you wasn’t easy. But it sure as hell was worth it.

- - - - -

“Hey, baby.”

Bakugou froze in his spot. “W-What did you just call me?”

Even before the two of you got together, you referred to him as cutie, sugar, honey, sweetie pie-- All the pet names he could possibly think of (each more ridiculously affectionate and annoyingly endearing than the next) but he never heard you call him that word.

“Baby?” you said curiously.

He stiffened. There was something about that pet name that seemed different than the rest… Intimate and sensual, yet infuriatingly innocent.

“What did you say?” he repeated slowly, voice much lower than usual.

You cocked your head to the side, tapping your index finger to your chin in thought. “Baby?” Bakugou frowned and you continued on. “Baby. Baby. B-A-B-Y, baby.”

With each passing second, his face grew redder and redder, the color almost spreading to his hairline.

You stopped yourself abruptly, slight concern clouding your amused expression. “Do… Do you not like it?”

“No! That’s not it!” he assured, embarrassed by his sudden outburst and your look of mild shock. “What are you staring at, baka? I only meant I don’t mind you calling me that word.”

“What word?” you asked with an innocently smile, toying with him.

“You know what I’m talking about!”

“No, I don’t think I do…”

“Damn you--” Katsuki managed to choke out, refusing to meet your gaze. “The B-A-B-Y word!”

Your small smile slowly grew into a wide, toothy grin, and if he didn’t love how it looked on your face so much, he would’ve done anything to wipe it off.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he mumbled, feeling his temperature rising for the millionth time this single conversation. Stupid pet names.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’ll call you that anytime you want me to…baby.”

He groaned at your teasing but couldn’t ignore the warm feeling in his stomach as you gave him a hug. Sure, you were in class, but school hadn’t started yet, and Bakugou didn’t give a single fuck if all his classmates knew you were his. At least they would know not to try anything.

But as he stood by your side, your head resting on his shoulder, his rare feelings of peacefulness were shattered when he heard his big-mouthed friends chatting in a little circle.

“And here we thought Bakugou liked being called daddy,” Kaminari said to Kirishima and Ashido in an obnoxiously loud whisper. “Guess we were wrong.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

They almost jumped out of their seats, staring wide-eyed at Katsuki who was glaring down at them angrily with you by his side, a sheepish look on your face as you shrugged at them.

“We said nothing!” the three said in unison.

He huffed, the tips of his ears still tinged a bright pink. “That’s what I thought.”

And though his eyes were narrowed and lips curled into a scowl, Bakugou couldn’t help the feeling of euphoria that came from his friends annoying yet well-meaning antics and the subtle kiss you gave his cheek with a giggle, murmuring the ridiculous pet name.

“Don’t be mad at them, baby,” you soothed, an amused smile on your face.

Katsuki sighed, giving in as he ruffled the top of your head. He realized he couldn’t really be angry. As long as you kept calling him B-A-B-Y.

Baby.

a/n: i hope you’re smiling because i sure as heck am ^o^ this is my first fic in a while that i didn’t absolutely hate, so i hope y’all enjoyed it! sorry if my fics have been crap lately :( xx sofia

[oftenderweapons]

The Conversations - part 3/3

Characters: Hoseok, Taehyung

Wordcount: 2.2k words

Genre: slice of life, discussion of NSFW topics, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello readers! I’m back and I bear gifts!

This is the final installment for The Conversations. In this piece Tae and Hobi discuss their relationships with their girlfriend, Lace -- Tae’s gf -- and Giggles -- Hobi’s --, sharing some spicy details and offering each other advice. Since I consider them the “freakiest” among the guys, do expect some TMI. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: so much BDSM I had to read a handbook, impact play and dedicated objects, bondage and restrictions, themes of domination and submission, use of safeword and mentions of subspace. Voyeurism and exhibitionism, adult clubs and dungeons, public sex, masturbation and oral sex. Blindfold, powerplay, roleplay. Mentions of a sextape... :’) (also hints of a possibly angsty Namjoon future fic, I had to.) 

Wordcount: 2.2k

And here is my masterlist :)

Enjoy!

“Hey hyung, sorry for last night.” Taehyung said, sitting beside Hoseok at the lunch table in the common room.

“It’s okay, no biggie.” Hoseok already had a bright smile on, warm and honestly unbothered by the event.

“I didn’t knew Giggles was at your’s.” Taehyung opened his lunch, starting to analyse the various boxes and cups.

“Yeah,” Hobi’s ears turned reddish. “It was a surprise for me too.”

“How is it going?” Tae cheered as he found the main course. Beside him Hoseok stirred his noodles.

“It’s great. She’s fantastic. How about Lace?”

“She’s doing great. We’re doing great.” Taehyung looked around a little to see if anyone could possibly overhear. “We experimented with a riding crop. Best decision of my life.”

Hoseok laughed out loud, smashing his free hand enthusiastically against the table. “Glad to know. Giggles prefers the paddle. Or my hands. But yeah, Lace gives crop vibes.”

“She’s a huge freak.” Tae took some kimchi, mixing it with his rice. His mouth still half full, he muttered. “But I guess I am, too.”

“As long as she likes that there’s nothing wrong.” He too took a bite of his own food. “Wanna share?”

“What? No.” Tae filled his mouth some more. “I mean, I have to ask Lace first.”

“I mean the food, you pervert.” Hoseok bent over his dish, “though I guess nor Lace nor Giggles would oppose.”

“God, Lace is such an exhibitionist.” Tae said, motioning to his side dish and inviting Hobi to take what he liked.

Hobi also put his smaller boxes in the middle. “And you’re a voyeur, which works just fine.”

“Match made in heaven. Does Giggles like it too?”

“She likes it enough. But, she’s not that visual. She prefers focusing on other senses.”

“I kinda reckoned.” Taehyung remembered the previous night, when he’d endlessly knocked on Hobi’s apartment door only to have his hyung come to the door half undressed, faux leather pants on, his forehead sweaty. Behind him, Tae could recognise a woman -- well, Giggles -- fully naked, sitting on a chair, wearing nothing but a blindfold. And several feet of rope.

“Freak.” Deadpanned Hoseok.

“What about you, freak?” Tae also stirred his noodles, enjoying the steam coming from them together with the heavy smell of soy sauce and fried peppers.

“Do you want me to say I enjoy having her at my mercy, nothing but a blabbering mess, incapable of getting away or understanding what’s going to happen to her?” Hoseok was overly descriptive on that. “Because yes, I do.”

“So not only blindfolded but also tied up?”

“If she’s not behaving, then yes.” Hoseok suddenly looked stern.

“I bet she doesn’t behave much.”

“At all.” Hoseok smirked. “I think I should change her punishment to something she enjoys less.”

“Lace hates not touching me.” Tae fits a huge meat roll in his mouth.

“Giggles is not bothered, as long as I’m touching her. She needs to feel some sort of an anchor, a safety line, so to say.”

“Well, I’d need one too if I were tied up and in the dark.” His mind wandered back to one of his first times with Lace, when he’d let her cover his eyes with a thick silk scarf tied behind his head, his body at her mercy, as she observed him and touched him without him knowing where she’d land her attack, without his intense gaze following her every movement and making her flustered. She had confessed feeling free, unjudged. Not that he would ever judge her, but he knew that he would feel conscious too if he were the one in the spotlight, were the roles to be reversed. He knew he would feel freer without his lover looking at him, analysing where his attention gravitated. But this happened at the beginning, when they were still learning. Now their most pressing need is watching each other. 

“Well. Once it got bad. She got into subspace. Only time she used her safeword. That’s why we don’t use handcuffs anymore.” Hoseok’s face was instantly dull. He still tortured himself for what had happened that one time. The look in Giggle's eyes as he let her wrists free, the angry red marks on her skin showing the indentations of the metal. The way she had seemed so broken, so lost. And the heavy tears falling on his chest as she hid in his form, clinging to him.

"Just once? Me and Lace had to use them a couple times. Both of us. Sometimes she's not in the right mindset and she asks me to stop and cuddle her. Sweetest thing in the universe." His eyes turn dreamy. "After her taste, obviously."

Hoseok laughs and punches him lightly. "TMI, bro."

"Come on, if Giggles tasted that sweet you would boast too."

"I'd rather keep that honey all to myself."

"Greedy." Taehyung poured himself some cola, watching it fizzle before downing it in one go. "By the way, do you have any good role play suggestion? I'm thinking of surprising her during the weekend but I'm so tired I can barely think."

"Strangers at the hotel. Book a room, meet at the lobby and then go upstairs to fuck like bunnies?" Hobi said it without even thinking. 

"Done that."

"It's a classic. Giggles loves it. She fucks me like a slut." He snickered softly, nothing but dark mischief in his voice, but also undying fondness for his beloved.

"And that's TMI." Tae quips.

"You asked."

"Yeah, fair."

"Maid and master. Or butler and madame. You pick." Hobi drank some Sprite directly from the bottle.

"Cliché." Taehyung tutted and proceeded with his meal. “I don’t know. Not really.”

"Artist and muse? I don't know man, you're super picky." It came out with his typically whiny intonation, his tone a rollercoaster as he got deeper into thought.

Taehyung stayed quiet for a few minutes, mulling over the possibility. “Could do.”

The other man slurped in his noodles, finishing them and sipping the soup. “So, roleplay, uh?”

“It makes me feel freer. Like I’m not V from BTS. Like I’m just a boy who loves his girl.”

Hobi nodded. “You don’t know the incredible amount of places I wish I could fuck Giggles.”

Tae clapped his hands and laughed. “Like that one time at the restaurant. Damn, you disappeared for half an hour.”

Hoseok stood up to discard his container, then sat down again. In the meantime he reminisced. How Giggles had smiled mysteriously at him, holding his hand and carefully taking him away from the main scene, into a corridor and then to the restroom. He remembered how she’d palmed him heavily, how he’d cum in her mouth after five minutes of her devoted ministrations. He remembered how Giggles had fingered herself as she was sucking him, waiting for him to be done so he would crouch down, bunch up her skirt and eat her out until her eyes crossed and her legs quivered, lost in ecstasy.

“Sometimes I wished I could just get lost somewhere like in an alley or drive off in the countryside and get it all loose.” Hoseok huffed quietly as he cleaned after his meal, grabbing an half empty tube of ice cream and setting it on the table, again sitting beside Tae. “Make her take off her panties while we’re out for dinner. Do her against the mirror in the elevator.”

“The one back at the dorms...” Tae arched an eyebrow, nodding knowingly.

“Yeah. Or like… Go to a club and just finger her on the dancefloor. Or in a dark nook.” His eyes crinkled shut.

“I get it. People knowing you sucks sometimes. Lace and I wanted to go to one of those... dungeons? Or maybe like an adult club. One of those places where you can perform in front of a crowd. Try some real exhibitionism. And some serious bondage.” Taehyung finished his own meal, discarding the finished cups and plates and grabbing a spoon to share the ice cream.

“Like, shibari?” Hobi asked, making eye contact with his friend.

“Yeah, why not.” Tae shrugged. “Lace would be interested. We’ve done mild things before and she enjoyed, but those are things you need to learn with an expert and just thinking of all the things that could go wrong makes me shiver.” He took a big mouthful of ice cream, almost freezing his brain in the process.

“I took an online course. Kinda fun.” Hoseok smiled and turned a bit shy. “Giggles was ecstatic. We learned some extra knots together, from a book our teacher recommended. She’s a keen student. Very dedicated.” He exploded in bubbly laughter.

“Would you let her tie you up?” Tea asked.

“I don’t know if she wants to, but I would let her.” Hobi blushed. “I wouldn’t mind. She’s talented. And disciplined. Very careful and diligent. I know I would be in good hands. What about you?”

“I’ve already let Lace tie me up.” Taehyung was absolutely confident, his voice neutral. “I enjoy letting her manhandle me every now and then.” He shrugged again, blowing his cheeks and rubbing at his chin. “She can do that. Honestly, she did take some lessons and taught me a few things. We explore a lot together.” At this, his eyes moved to the floor, a bit flustered. Lace knew his body like no one else in the world. He had spent years living in it and getting to know it, but his girlfriend had put body and soul into exploring him, memorising every small tell, every little quirk and sweet spot. Lace had unravelled him in a couple weeks, studying his anatomy with a maniacal precision. And when he allowed her to take control of him, her knowledge showed. Her fingers could draw endless pleasure, keeping him on his toes for hours and then making him explode like fireworks. But the most important thing was the way she had learned to soothe him, to care after him, her affection like balm to his bitter moods and darkest nights.

“Glad for you.” Hoseok gave him a pat on the shoulder, drawing him in for a hug.

Taehyung was getting ready to leave. “I got to talk to Namjoon. He’s giving me feedback on some lines in English. By the way, have you heard of him and Vixen?”

“What?”

“Had a fight. He’s hell-bent on making it up to her.” Tae scrunched his nose. “Guk sorta walked in on them in the studio the other day. I don’t know if they made up.”

Hoseok pouted. “Joon temper’s sucks. Boy got some pent up pressure and he’s gonna blow a fuse someday or other. Plus Vixen’s no saint.”

“She holds him accountable for his bullshit. Takes good care of him. Plus, man, she’s a keeper.”

“Truly.” Hobi thought back to the sparks between her and Namjoon everytime they’re together. If that wasn’t love, then he didn’t know what it could ever be. Probably it was the way Giggles searched for his hand when she was afraid, the way she always looked at him when she found something funny, or that small breath she held every time he said her name. Or even the way he needed to bury his nose in her neck when he needed to rest. How he always put his hand on the small of her back when he needed her at his side, when he looked for support and protection.

Taehyung already had his hand on the handle of the kitchen’s door when Hoseok stopped him. “How do you store your… stuff, with Lace?”

“You mean what? Toys? Porn? Pics?”

The older huffed. God, he’s really shameless. “Your vids?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. That stuff. I assume you’re not hiding it from her?”

“I was thinking of shooting something. I need safe storage.” Hoseok rubbed at his forehead, crossing his arms.

“Avoid phones. Worst thing. Get yourself a good camera and a decent memory card. Like 72GB. Keep all the stuff in the memory card or pen drive. Lace and I have it in our bedside table. Never keep stuff on the phone or in cloud.” He pointed a finger towards Hoseok for emphasis. “I would recommend an action camera, which is practical like a phone but safer. But if you do use a phone, no connection, no wifi, nothing. Just a phone used like a good ol' camera. Move all the stuff away as soon as you’re done.”

“Yeah, that was sort of a given..” Hobi nodded. “So, a camera? Suggestions?”

“Depends? Handheld or tripod?” Taehyung asked, checking his phone.

“You know me. Hands on my girl, and I like shifting a lot.”

“Tripod. Definitely. I’ll send you some links for reference tonight. Enjoy.”

[forgottenbytime]

hola !!! i was hoping if you could write some general headcanons with the reader being karasuno's manager ? i read your rules, and i know you don't accept more than five characters for headcanons, so it's completely alright if you don't want to or don't have the time to. thank you for reading my request ! - 🌸anon (feel free to call me cherry anon :)))

Could I request head canons for Nekoma getting a really sweet and timid first year manager?

author’s note: cherry anon, aaaah omg that is so adorable. for now, i just chose a couple of characters from karasuno that aren’t as requested in my asks!! also hope you guys didn’t mind i combined both of these asks together.

asahi azumane

- he, of course, noticed that there had been a new manager added to the team, and he was pretty thankful and excited for an addition- but he didn’t notice notice you yet- until during serving practice, in the frenzy of all the serves he’d somehow managed to hit you- cue him panicking and apologizing all flustered. the fear of you being angry or afraid him clouded his thoughts poor baby- but you merely gave him a smile of reassurance and accepted the hand he held out to you- from then on, your presence stood out to him- he admired the effort you put into the team as a manager, but also more concealed feelings began to arise- and he wanted to play well for you because the way your whole face lit up in excitement when he nailed a hit made his chest feel light- if you praised him he’d be on cloud nine for a week- it would take him quite a while to muster up the courage to confess to you, but he would never regret it

daichi sawamura

- he’d have his eye on you since the very day you started- of course, he internally justified his attention as a mere observance from a captain’s point of view of the new manager- but even deeper internally, he knew he found you cute- and then he found himself beginning to act differently; acting a bit more pumped up then usual. he played his best when he knew you were watching. he tried to make himself appear cooler. - and he’d go home thinking what am i doing? - but he just couldn’t help it- your presence energized him so much. your determination spiked his own, the excitement in your eyes and genuine desire to be a good manager only reminded him of his own goals of being a good captain- so after he had deep reflection and untangled the knot of his jumbled up feelings- he so very straightforwardly told you his feelings. daichi ain’t the type to beat around the bush. - you were surprised – in a pleasant way – and things just kinda went from there

nishinoya yuu

- the moment he saw you enter the gym, his heart shot through the roof- ‘cause obviously, he was super excited that a new and especially cute manager was added to the team- that practice he was super-duper pumped up and was yelling and playing with all of his energy- but he didn’t yet have romantic feelings for you, not until he’d jammed his thumb by trying to set a hard serve and you’d accompanied him to the nurses office- the way you worried over him, eyebrows crinkled, lips drawn into a from, your cheeks flushed oh-so slightly as you searched around for the nurse- his heart seemed to be beating in a different way from the first time he’d set his eyes on you- after that day he actively showed his affection for you, following you around gazing up at you with such obvious puppy-eyes, practically everyone knew he liked you- it took you a while, but you finally caught on to his feelings and he was the happiest boy ever

tsukishima kei

- unfortunately for you, the cute, tall tsundere boy you’d set your eyes on didn’t even notice your presence- frankly didn’t even know who you were or what you were doing until you were introduced to the team as the new manager. after that he kinda brushed you off. - but you began to squirm your way into his life slowly, even if he didn’t accept you at first- he’d act indifferent to your advances, even if they were simple and kind gestures. - but one night after a grueling practice session, when you handed him your bottle, he found himself reacting… differently, when your hand brushed his- it took him a lot to identify his feelings, but after an honest talk with yamaguchi, he finally came to terms that he liked you- after that, he was more aware of your gaze on him, or your presence near, the way you acted, how focused you seemed. he had to admit your hardworking attitude as a manager impressed him- in the end, you were the one to confess and bring you two together, but he wasn’t complaining

tanaka ryuunosuke

- similar to nishinoya, he found himself often blushing and heart racing at your presence- when you introduced yourself as the new manager, all he could think about was how cute you were- he played extra hard whenever he could feel your gaze on him, and when you’d cheer after he would spike, he honestly wanted to crow- but together alone, he found himself super shy and almost awkward because the magnitude of his feelings for you almost seemed to threaten to spill from his lips- his palms would constantly be sweaty around you, and he could barely make proper eye contact without his face darkening in a lovely shade of red- it concerned you, and of course as the responsible manager you were, you took it upon yourself to corner him and ask you what the matter was- but the incident only ended up in him nervously blurting out how much you meant to him- and even though he wanted to escape in that moment, you blurted out back how the feeling was completely mutual- so both of you nerds were happy in the end

[kenmastwin]

Short Fuse and High Maintenance ✰ YakuLev

Genre: fluff, getting together

Words: 4,328

Summary: A few months passed with Lev on the team and at this point, Yaku was convinced that Lev was sent here to continuously make him feel small. Of course, Lev had never meant it in an offending way and somehow, that made it even worse. This way, Yaku didn’t only have to deal with the spite he felt from a fucking giant calling him short, he also had to deal with this weird tingling feeling in his heart that made his ears burn a little bit red.

Everything started on the day Lev first stepped into Nekoma’s gym for his first volleyball practice and caught sight of that one very short player. The third-year libero, Yaku Morisuke. Lev’s first impression of him was very simple: small. At that time, he hadn’t known yet how much that single fact would affect him and make a mess of his thoughts.

Haiba Lev, being a very tall person had, of course, seen small people. Actually, most people he’d encountered could be considered smaller than him. There was nothing to be surprised at in Yaku’s case either, especially since his amazing receiving skills definitely made up for his height on the court. Lev loved everything that was small and cute ever since he was a child. He would often feed the cats and dogs in the neighborhood or play with the children. He was very good with children and children liked him a lot too. They loved sitting on his shoulders to see the world from a higher point of view and just simply having one more playmate.

Becoming a regular member of the volleyball team taught Lev three things: his spiking teacher and setter, Kenma is impatient and reluctant to practice with him; his blocking teacher and captain, Kuroo is annoying and keeps nagging his ear off; his receiving teacher, Yaku is not only short but also has a short fuse. Lev honestly hated receiving practices, it was way too exhausting to keep running from one side of the court to the other and continuously dive for the ball. Yaku’s steadily reverberating scolding and yelling didn’t make it better either. Lev sneaked out not once when his senpai wasn’t paying attention. In the end, Lev concluded that not all small things were lovely and cute.

=^.^=

Yaku Morisuke could feel it deep in his guts the very first time he’d met Lev. It was a very intense boiling feeling that he couldn’t quite place at that time. He’d known it was triggered by his first impression on Lev: annoyingly tall half Russian towering over him to accentuate how small Yaku actually was. Yaku hated feeling small. He did all he could to make people focus on his high-quality receiving skills instead of his height and reveled in the fact that there were smaller players on the court as well. For example, Hinata Shouyou from Karasuno. Hinata was actually a whole centimeter shorter than Yaku and a middle blocker where height was the most important quality. Seeing him, Yaku didn’t seem all that special.

His feeling of disdain had only grown after he started to practice together with Lev. God, he sucked at everything so much... but he still kept running around shouting that he’d become the ace of Nekoma earning an earful from Yamamoto.

“Shut up and drag your ass back to receiving,” Yaku yelled at him, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and dragging him to the other side of the court. He cursed himself internally for not being able to reach his ear to drag him by that. Stupid tall bastard.

A few months passed with Lev on the team and at this point, Yaku was convinced that Lev was sent here to continuously make him feel small.  

“Yaku-san, you’re so good at volleyball even though your small?”

“Is Hinata really smaller than you?”

“Yaku-san, you’re so small and cute.”

Of course, Lev had never meant it in an offending way and somehow, that made it even worse. This way, Yaku didn’t only have to deal with the spite he felt from a fucking giant calling him short, he also had to deal with this weird tingling feeling in his heart that made his ears burn a little bit red. That pair of sparkling eyes always held such sincerity in them that Yaku hardly could think that Lev was making fun of him. A tiny thought bloomed in the back of his mind: maybe, just maybe this guy actually liked his height?  

Yaku crushed this ridiculous thought, kicked Lev on the butt and refused to even look at the pouting man. What’s there to like about height anyways?

=^.^=

Lev’s first impression on Yaku Morisuke took a 360° turn after a few months passed. It changed from small and adorable to little and aggressive then back to small and adorable. He’d come a full circle only because Yaku’s passion for volleyball and his blunt nature scared Lev at first. He needed a few weeks to get used to it and realize that even though Yaku seemed to harbor some kind of grudge against him, his sharp words were never meant to harm Lev, only to help him improve for the sake of the team. The kicks and the punches he received were all things he could thank his own big mouth for. His teammates kept telling him over and over again to quit pointing out Yaku’s height if he wanted to live but he couldn’t help himself. That man, 2 years older than him, so self-conscious about a quality that only made him more charming in Lev’s eyes, was someone Lev could never control himself around.

It was all because Lev’s brain worked in the simplest way. When he saw something that he liked, he couldn’t help but compliment it. And god, did he like Yaku Morisuke a lot...

An unexpected phone call was the catalyst that deepened and secured just how much Lev actually liked the libero. He could neither expect or foresee it, much less stop it before everything had already escalated to the point of no return.

The caller was Lev’s older sister, Alisa who announced that she would come and live in Japan for a few months. Lev was very excited to see his sister and even more excited to introduce her to his teammates. He was super proud of his sister being a successful and beautiful model, and he wanted to show off his newly learned volleyball skills too. So, Lev invited Alisa to their upcoming game and made her meet his team at the entrance of the stadium.

Everything proceeded smoothly.

“Hello, I’m Haiba Alisa. Thank you for always taking care of Lyovochka,” Alisa greeted the Nekoma members and the members had their jaw on the floor.

“No way, is this your sister?” Yamamato had already hearts in his eyes.

“She is! Doesn’t we look very similar?” Lev asked, standing proudly by Alisa’s side, both of them smiling.

“Hm,” Kuroo nodded. “I guess you have some shared genes.”  

“She's prettier than Lev, though,” Kenma concluded and the whole team agreed as if Kenma’s words were law.

Lev pouted while Alisa laughed, feeling happy that his brother was getting along so well with his teammates. His gaze swept through his cheerful teammates before it finally landed on the small form of the libero he’d lately always kept in a corner of his vision. Yaku was currently staring at the pair of siblings with barely visible pink dusting his cheeks. Suddenly, his eyes met Lev’s and with a slight but sudden widening of them, he turned away completely. Lev’s eyes widened at the same time and a weird fluttering feeling spread in his heart and his stomach like a hundred butterflies taking flight at once.

Lev almost forgot that fleeting moment of locked eyes and flushed cheeks until Alisa came to cheer for them at another game.  

“Alisa-san came again?” Yaku rushed up to Lev, asking with sparkling eyes and the faint pink hue once again present on his cheeks. “She’s really too beautiful.”

Lev furrowed his brows, quickly making the connection between the flustered state of the libero and his sister’s presence. In the end, he only rubbed the back of his neck and laughed, “I know right. Let’s make sure to win today, Yaku-san!"

Yaku nodded, “Just try not to get in the way of the receives when you block.”

“Yaku-san...” Lev whined as the both of them ran up to line for the start.

The flushing and blushing, along with Yaku being uncharacteristically excited certainly didn’t help Lev tone his adoration down. If anything, it only sparked a thousand wishful scenarios inside the tall boy’s head. It seemed as if a whole new world opened for him, and the urge to never stop observing the short libero only increased.

If only he would receive half the attention of what Yaku blessed his sister with…  

=^.^=

Yaku seemed to not really look into Lev’s eyes. That made sense, he probably didn’t want to strain his neck looking up but Lev still imagined what it would feel like to have those sparkling brown eyes bore into his own, focusing on him and nothing else. Yaku-san's cheeks seemed to be round and delicate, they would probably fit nicely into Lev’s palms. Lev imagined pale skin warming up and changing shades under his touch until it became hot and red, a pair of lips awaiting to meet them with his own in a soft kiss-

Lev shook his head furiously to dissolve the mental image that strayed into dangerous territories. Yaku gave him a weird look, “Are you even listening to me?”

Lev’s only response was an awkward laugh, followed by Yaku’s exasperated sigh.

“I guess we should call it a day.”

“Sorry, Yaku-san,” Lev mumbled guiltily, walking after his receiving tutor out of the gym and into the clubroom to change.

“It’s fine. I didn’t expect to stay until this late, either,” Yaku said, doing everything in his power to keep his turned backside to Lev but he still couldn’t conceal a faint blush making its way into the tall boy’s view.

Lev rubbed his eyes, thinking that he must be really exhausted. His sister was nowhere in sight but Yaku-san was still blushing, that couldn’t be anything more than his mind playing games with him. He proceeded to change out of his sweaty practice clothes as fast as possible, thinking about a nice mind-clearing shower and some refreshing sleep at home.

However, something even more unexpected happened.

Yaku stopped in his tracks when they exited the school grounds and turned to look up at Lev, “Hey, wanna stop by the convenience store? I’ll treat you to ice cream.”

Lev’s eyes widened in absolute disbelief, feeling his insides burst from happiness. “Yaku-san!”

“W-what? If you don’t want to, that’s fine too. Just thought you’ve been working hard lately...” Yaku immediately averted his eyes, making wide movements with his arm to punctuate to the best of his abilities that this was not a big deal and there was no reason for Lev to be this happy. But Lev was even more happy because he knew very well that Yaku, although a very dependable senpai, wasn’t the type to just treat others to ice cream or anything else.

Lev caught one of Yaku’s flailing arms, his long fingers circling around the thin wrist. “I’d like that very much.”

“Th-then let’s go,” Yaku said, half mumbling the words, the blush creeping up on his cheeks again and not escaping Lev’s watchful eyes.

“Okay!”

The short walk to the convenience store down the street was spent in the quiet of the night. Lev’s head was so full of the confused happiness that overwhelmed him that somehow, he even forgot to speak, not filling up the silence with his usual chitchats. His eyes fluctuated between the road ahead and the short boy beside him, their gazes meeting every once in a while, before Yaku forcefully ripped away his.

They arrived too fast to Lev’s liking and Yaku sprinted inside, speedily navigating to where the ice creams were kept. It didn’t take long before he exited the store and offered one of the two ice creams to Lev with a bright smile on his face. “Here. Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you!” Lev accepted the treat, savoring the feeling of their fingers brushing together for the entirety of two seconds.  

Eating the ice cream with Yaku next to him giving him warm looks, the tiniest of smiles and well-earned compliments, Lev had two conclusions:

Hard work does indeed pay off and if this is his reward for holding out on Yaku-san's demonic training then it was all worth it, without a doubt.

Yaku-san is the most adorable human being in the world and if he can’t have him, he doesn’t want anyone else.

=^.^=

Yaku deeply regretted treating Lev for ice cream that night. Who would have thought that this would happen? All he wanted was to increase Lev’s motivation and to not have that look full of dread on his face whenever an extra receiving practice began. That’s the only reason why he willed himself to ask Kuroo Tetsurou with his shit-eating grin for advice on how to achieve that.

“Yakkun, have you ever heard of the stick and carrot method?”

“Please, say it so non-nerds can understand too,” Yaku replied even though he had a feeling of what Kuroo was implying already.

“I’m saying that you shouldn’t just scold him when he messes up but also give him rewards when he does well.”

Yaku groaned internally, a frown making itself present outwardly.

“Come on, Yakkun, it’s not that difficult to give the guy a few compliments. It’s not like you gotta confess your undying love,” Kuroo joked but the chuckle got caught in his throat when he saw Yaku’s wide eyes and flushed cheeks before they turned into angry pools of storm.

“Who would confess anything to that idiot...”

“You’re welcome!” Kuroo shouted after him as Yaku stomped out of the clubroom. “Huh, I didn’t expect that he cares about Lev this much.”

Kenma lifted his eyes from his game to look at Kuroo, “I give them one month.”

“Bet.”

To give Kuroo some credit, Lev did become more enthusiastic about practice after the ice cream reward. However, Yaku did not expect him to become this enthusiastic.

Lev arrived on time, didn’t try to slack off or escape and paid great attention to each and every word Yaku had said to him. His bright emerald eyes bore into Yaku with an unfamiliar intensity, making it difficult for Yaku to stay collected and not stumble over his words.  

He had no idea what went through the titan’s head but not only the attention, the physical contact had also increased. Usually, Lev would run off and bother Kenma for tosses to polish his spikes for which he needed to sacrifice his break time in order to convince Kenma (with the help of the coaches and the captain). Lately, Lev reserved a seat next to Yaku, sitting always in close proximity, thighs, shoulders and fingertips often brushing together. It never ceased to ignite a small fire in Yaku’s chest, making the heat spread all the way to his cheeks where it burned in pink. Yaku felt that every time he blushed because of Lev, he’d lost a piece of his honorable senpai image.

Well, not that Lev had ever cared about his senpai image, he’d always talked back to him and continuously called him short. Yaku was pretty sure that Lev had no respect for him whatsoever.

...On second thought, this statement didn’t feel quite correct. Because even though Lev rarely listened to him in the way Yaku had wanted him to, Lev never crossed any lines and always looked at him with nothing but pure admiration.  

Yaku felt his cheeks warm up at the thought again and squeezed his hands in a tight fist, feeling the overwhelming need to punch someone. Preferably the cause of his state. Preferably in the face.  

Of course, he’d spent quite a lot of time thinking about why his initial reaction to everything related to Lev was violence but the result only pissed him off more. Dreadful words of ‘confess’ and ‘undying love’ coming from his latest conversation with Kuroo popped up in his mind, and his rage changed targets, now very much wishing to punch the captain.  

Stupid Kuroo saying stupid things, implying that Yaku was in love with a stupid giant who kept making him feel all kind of stupid feelings. However, Yaku felt the stupidest out of them all for actually considering the idea quite often lately.  

Sometimes, he would catch himself staring at Lev without realizing it and even after realizing, he would keep on looking at the way his expression brightened when he nailed a spike, saved a ball or blocked a shot. It was even more interesting to see him get frustrated when he messed up, screaming but immediately focusing on the next rally. Yaku felt his chest tighten and a smile creeping onto his face at the same time. And the worst, the absolute worst was after practice! When Lev was spread out on the floor as if he was dead after the coach dismissed everyone and Yaku would approach Lev while wiping his face with a towel. He had no idea what had gotten into him but his hand moved against his own will and patted the disheveled silver hair. Lev looked up in shock and the moment their eyes locked, both of them froze. Both of their cheeks were pink but only Lev could see it grace Yaku’s turned face while the libero stood up, removed his hand and lightly poked Lev’s side with his foot.  

“Get up, don’t lie on the floor,” he spat out mechanically and walked away as fast as he could without appearing suspicious. He hated to admit it to even himself so he sure as hell would never admit anything about his maybe existing feelings to the boy himself.  

=^.^=

Now, Lev was not the brightest lightbulb in the bunch but when it came to Yaku, he was prompt to notice a change in attitude. Unfortunately, the conclusion he got from this simple observation was not quite correct.  

Lately, it seemed that Yaku was being more distant around him. There was less scolding and less hits and kicks attacking him but that also meant less physical contact. Lev felt somewhat weird for thinking about how he missed Yaku-san’s small fist punching his sides but this train of thought quickly geared him towards memories that made a lot more sense. Shoulders leaning against each other while resting, fingers brushing together while a reward of ice cream was passed, warm fingers combing through his hair after a long day of practice…  

Lev raised a hand, touching his hair for himself and feeling a strange kind of loneliness. He didn’t know why Yaku patted his head that day but he would sell his soul to only have that hand rest on top of his head again. There was just something about the short boy touching the top of this tall boy that felt more encouraging and comforting than any words could ever make him feel.

“If you don’t focus then stop wasting my time,” Kenma’s annoyed grumble and a volleyball fallen to the floor and rolling away brought Lev out of the maze of his thoughts. The maze of Yaku, we might as well call it by name. He had no idea that the smallest distance would make him miss the previous affection so much. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Yaku anymore, only that there was no more talking and interaction aside from practice. Missing someone right beside him was definitely not normal.  

Lev sighed, “Sorry, Kenma-san.”

Kenma stared at Lev’s slouched form, observant eyes seeing right through him and he sighed as well, “What’s wrong?”

Seeing Lev straighten up and his cheeks darkening confirmed Kenma’s suspicion. “Yaku-san?”

“I-I mean,” Lev stammered, trying not to give his feelings away which was highly difficult when Kenma’s scrutinizing gaze felt like he was completely naked. “He seems like he’s avoiding me. But he’s practicing with me as usual so it might just be me...”

“Oh,” Kenma said, glancing at Yaku practicing with Kuroo and Yamamoto before he made a decision.  

“W-what?” Lev felt very uneasy.  

“Do you like Yaku-san?”

“Wha- I… H-how did you know?”

“I didn’t know. You just told me,” Kenma pointed out then added when he saw Lev’s horrified expression. “But I kinda guessed already. You’re super obvious.”

“Do you think Yaku-san noticed something and this is why he’s avoiding me?”

“I’m sure he noticed something but I doubt it’s how you feel…” Kenma rolled his eyes. It almost pained him how these two were so focused on their own feelings that they failed to notice the other struggling with the exact same feelings. Maybe he could give them a little push, he thought, he had a bet to win, after all. 

Lev tilted his head in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Have you ever thought that he might like you too?”

=^.^=

Lev ran through the streets excitedly, a sense of urgency in his steps. He hoped that he would still be able to catch up to Yaku. He didn’t even dare to think about reciprocated feelings before but Kenma’s words sparked hope in his heart. Kenma would never comfort anyone with empty words so with encouragement from Kenma, he felt like he had the support of the entire universe behind him.  

“Yaku-san!” he called out when he spotted the small figure passing in front of the convenience store near the school. He locked eyes with the surprised libero. Lev strode over, crossing the distance with a few long strides and towered over Yaku. Yaku despised when anyone, especially Lev of all people, towered over him and he didn’t hesitate to insert his palm into the stupidly tall person’s side.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked with a frown.

Lev clutched his painful side, the sparkles in his eyes not at all subsiding as they bore into Yaku. “Yaku-san, do you like me?”

Yaku was taken aback by the bluntness of the question, completely speechless for a moment before finding his voice again. “Did you hit your head? Why would I like you? You can’t even make a proper block.” He didn’t mention his spikes. Yaku had to admit, he got a lot better at those, scoring important points for the team.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Do you like like me?”

“...” Yaku had a bad feeling about the persistent questioning. “Why are you even asking me that?”

“Yaku-san, please, answer me.”

He knows. Yaku had half a mind to punch him with all of his might and run away if that’s the only way he could get out of this mess. How could this be possible? Lev was way too oblivious to realize the affections masked behind yelling. Yaku swore to murder whoever ratted him out. Kuroo, he was sure of it. That bastard always enjoyed messing with him.

“What if I do?” he glared at Lev, trying not to let the embarrassment show on his face and daring the tall man to make fun of him.

It was as if a thousand fireworks went off in Lev’s mind, he radiated excited happiness as he got closer to Yaku. “Because I like you too! I really really like you, Yaku-san!”  

Yaku looked at him like he was crazy. Why would this guy like him? That made no sense to him. He did nothing but yell at him, scold him, kick his butt, punch his side, slap his head... Yaku didn’t know if he should feel relieved that he was liked despite his horrendous treatment or just stupefied because was this guy a masochist or what?

“Are you stupid?” Was the only thing that ended up coming out of Yaku.

Lev didn’t even hear it. “I’m so happy you feel the same way. Sometimes, I thought you really hated me but then you would stare at me like that so I was kind of confused. Ah, I’m soooo happy now.”

Yaku blinked. How did he exactly stare at Lev? Shit, had he been caught? That’s too embarrassing, he wished he could poke out his own eyes. Lev continued rambling but Yaku’s mind went completely blank as he tried and failed to assess this situation.

“Yaku-san, can I kiss you?”

“Huh?!” Lev’s face was suddenly way too close and Yaku’s heartbeat sped up while a blush spread onto his cheeks. He unconsciously covered his face with an arm. “Aren’t you getting way too ahead of yourself here? Shouldn’t you ask if I want to be your boyfriend first?”

Lev’s eyes softened. He gently pried Yaku’s arm away from his face and smiled at the pretty pink blush on his face. Cute. Yaku was really too cute. It was impossible to resist.

“But we like each other. And I really want to kiss you right now. Don’t you?”

The question sounded innocent coming from him but for Yaku’s ears it held a teasing tone and mixed feelings dueled in his mind. He did want to kiss Lev. God knows how many times he imagined how his lips would feel against his but he would rather die than to say it and since he’s too short for a surprise kiss, he decided to die without ever getting the experience.

However, his head ended up nodding. He actually nodded! This simple gesture shocked both Lev and himself. Fortunately, he didn’t have the time to be embarrassed about it because Lev’s lips landed on his almost instantly. It was a short kiss, innocent and sweet and lighting up both of their faces with bliss and blush.  

“Yaku-san,” Lev smiled when he pulled away. “Would you be my boyfriend?”

Yaku’s blush deepened until his face was the same color as his Nekoma jacket. “Y-yeah, I guess we’re dating now…”

“Yay, I’ll make you happy, I promise!” Lev was beside himself with excitement and instantly wrapped up Yaku in his arms, finally feeling the satisfaction of holding his own little happiness and he swore to himself that he would never let him go.  

[brideofcthulhu10]

Could you do a reaction where the lost boys are hanging out with their S/O at their house. It’s 3 am and s/o falls asleep. They hear a crash down stares so the boy investigates, his face all vamped out. They find the s/o younger sibling in the kitchen who is around 4 yrs old with their hand in the cookie jar. The sibling sees them with their fangs and runs over to them yelling “Kitty”! The next night their s/o tells them they are tired because their younger sibling Made them look for a cat.

Okie doke, super specific but I think I did a damn dandy job on it if I do say so myself lol. Well, I hope you enjoy it!

The Bats Being Cats

Lost Boys × fem!S/O fluff with little brother

David 

It was a rare occurence when David slept outside of the hotel, but with the numerous break ins he didn't feel comfortable leaving you alone. You insisted you weren't alone! 

"Having a stray neighborhood cat you feed doesn't count as protection," he retorts, arms crossed. 

"No that's not what I mean-"

"-Just let me keep any eye on you, kitten. Please?"

Being asked please by David just made your heart ache. Pleasantries were partially limited as it was but David was not one for saying please. You sighed, taking his hand in yours. "Fine, but please don't kill anybody. My parents would be pissed if someone got blood on the carpets."

All had been going pretty well, you managed to cook him up a home made meal for once having to repeatedly remind yourself absolutely no garlic, and after a slashers marathon on TV you were ready for bed. It was only 2 am! David was far from tired, but at your behest he obliged under protest. Being the nocturnal vamp he was, he just laid beside you while you slept enjoying the peace and quiet. Beds weren't exactly his forte so it didn't make him any less awake. Too squishy. The loud banging coming from the kitchen didn't exactly serenade him into slumber. 

An intruder huh? Well, you did say not to kill them… but you never said anything about mmaiming. Besides, he had to skip a blood meal to be here, might as well have some fast food while you were off in dreamland. David gently scooted himself off the bed as best he could without disturbing you and pulled the blankets over. Watching you burrow against the pillow made him smile softly, pushing your hair out of your face. Slowly he leaned in for a tender kiss, after all he wasn't in a hurry. "Sleep tight kitten, I'll be right back."

Carefully he slunk down the stairs with ease. Sure enough a stream of light trailed off from the dining room. The closer he got the more he continued to hear rattling within the kitchen. Drawers slowly rumbling as the were slid open, the cabinets squeaking, the… chairs being scraped across the floor? 

Okay so they were a very short burglar, whatever. Turning the corner with fangs ready to tear into whatever pitiful mortal thought it wise to enter his mate's home- who the hell is that?

Rather than a short man dressed in all black, he had come to find a small boy sitting on the counter in a red race car t-shirt with matching race track print shorts elbow deep in a dog-shaped jar labeled "COOKIES". Currently the tiny pastry thief was smeared with chocolate chips and crumbs, half a cookie sticking out of his mouth. There was such a heavy awkward silence and they both just stared at each other until the boy finally gasped. "Wow you're a big kitty!"

"Ki-?" Immediately David became flustered as the little one scrambled off his kitchen chair ladder and HUGGED HIM. David immediately scrunched his body together as if it could make him smaller. He hardly hugged anyone other than you, the sensation was almost so foreign he nearly rejected the crumb coated tyke who was smearing chocolate on his jacket. Grrrreat. 

"Uh.. Yeah sure, kitty, let's go with that," he quickly dismissed the kid, awkwardly patting his head. "Kitty says off to be or I'll tell-"

"You can't tell Y/N! She'll tell mummy when they can't back!"

Mummy? Go figure you forget to mention you had a little brother! "Well then we better go to bed then, huh? Otherwise we'll both get in trouble. See, your sister doesn't want me getting lost around the house showing off my teeth. So we gotta keep that a secret, got it?"

The boy quickly nodded, pretending to zip his lips shut. Watching David put the cookies higher that the chair could help him reach. With cheeks puffed up he stomped away, whining under his breath that the mean kitty was no fun. David rolled his eyes, sinking away his fangs back into his mouth. With dawn approaching he debated his options, quickly scribbling down a "sleeping in here, do not open" to tape on your closet, using a wadded up towel to seal up any cracks. Not ideal, but better than being burnt to a crisp. Once the sun went down again, he came out to see you utterly disheveled. How were you tired you slept half the night, if anything he should be tired! Well apparently your little brother B/N insisted he found a giant, bossy kitty cat "with a dumb hair cut" in the house and demanded you spent all day helping him find it. David hadn't the heart to tell you, although the chair cut line made him tempted to scare the little turd. Maybe not, so he just shrugged it off suggesting perhaps the kid was sleepwalking.

Dwayne

Well Dwayne had a fair share of handling children before, but this was ridiculous. It seemed like a cute little suggestion, spending the night at your house. He wouldn't exactly get much sleep. Still, he didn't mind cuddling with you in your bed, get the opportunity to maybe look around your room and get some better insight about who you were before he met you. Besides, any opportunity to sleep in a real bed again that wasnt caked in cobwebs was a golden opportunity in his eyes. 

You certainly were a trooper, you insisted on staying up as late as you possibly could. After ordering from a pizza shop he opted just to devour the barbecue wings while you nibbled down on classic pepperoni. You insisted there was no garlic, but he wasn't going to risk anything spoiling tonight. When his hunger couldn't be satiated you offered him the uncooked beef shoulder your mom was saving for dinner next week. It was disgusting, wringing it out like a sweaty sock, watching your juice pitcher fill up with red juices. When you struggled to squeeze out  anything else, Dwayne straight up dug his teeth into the partially dried hunk of meat until it started to turn grey. The entire process was gruesome. You couldn't help make a face, although you were still glad he had some sort of blood. 

"What's animal blood like anyway? I mean, usually you drink human right? Is animal like… vampiric vegetarianism?"

Dwayne pondered the inquiry, wiping the red from around his mouth. "I guess the best way I can describe it, it's like junk food in a way," he explained, polishing off the last bit and smearing his mouth on his jacket sleeve. "It fills you up okay, but not as well as human blood. Eventually it won't be able curb the hunger for very much longer."

"Hm. So it's like having potato chips for dinner," you asked, going to rinse out the jug before he had the chance to lick up the remainder. 

"Pretty much."

After dinner, you settled on the couch watching the IT miniseries on tv, sharing a bowl of popcorn. Half way through the three hour series you had dozed off, head lightly nuzzled beneath his arm into his chest. Gently he swept you up into his arms, carrying you down the hallway into your room. Just as he laid you down he heard a bunch of clanking around in the kitchen. Looking back at you he pushed your hair out of your face, stealing a gentle kiss. "Don't worry princess, I'll handle this one," he whispered against your lips. Guess he was going to get that human blood after all. With fangs bared he swept through the hallways with ease, slinking into the dark kitchen ready to strike, and then the lights flipped on. Standing beside the fridge was a young child, couldn't be more than 4 or five sitting on the floor with a handful of pinwheel cookies. Literally caught with his hand in the cookie jar, the bits eyes turned to saucers. "KITTY CAT!" 

Dwayne flinched when the crumbly toddler hugged his waist. Alright so you had a brother. That was new. Carefully he lifted up the toddler, balancing on his hip like he had done with Laddie. "Well hi. I wasn't expecting a cookie thief tonight."

"Are you Y/N's kitty? You're really big!"

"No, I'm a big ol' panther. I usually eat all the bad kids who stay up past their bedtime," he teased with a fanged grin. "Know any?"

The boy rapidly shook his head. "Nope! Uh uh! I was uh, sleepy walkin'!" 

"Oh well, then I guess we should get you back to bed then, huh?"

Laddie used to pull the same thing all the time. They always put him to bed around 4:40 am, sometimes he could push it to almost 5, but then Dwayne would catch him sneaking around the tunnels at 6 am. Except with Laddie he would just hang upside down with him or go back to Star. He couldn't exactly do that with a four year old human. Instead he shuffled his boots through scattered toys, kicking them out of the way as he tucked the little boy in bed. Out like a light. Boy he was good. Softly he tip toes back into your room and laid beside you until the sun started coming up. He snuck into your parents room with their dark, heavy curtains drawn and wedged himself into their walk in closet just to be safe. Thank god your dad hates sunlight too. The entire day time he could hear your little brother shouting "Kitty?! Mr. Kitty?!"

Cue your groans as you lazily followed him, shooing the boy away from where Dwayne was currently sleeping.

"B/N, you were probably just sleeping after you ate all the freakin' cookies and dreamt there was some big dumb cat."

"No no no, honest Y/N, I saw him, I did I did! We jus' gotta keep lookin'!"

Dwayne chuckled, he'd have to apologize to you once the sun came up.

Paul

Yes! A sleep over at Y/N's place! Finally! He never got to go over there because your parents were such fuddy duddy same-old! Now with them gone for a weekend trip to San Diego, he had you all to himself! Oh he was so giddy when he jumped through your doorway. Wow. Fancy! Two stories, a big ol' tv in the living room with one giant wrap-around couch?! Is that the new Sega system?! There's a freaking pool in the backyard! He's just geeking out!

"Dude, babe, why didn't you tell me your parents are loaded," he exclaimed, jumping over the edge of the couch onto the cushions. 

"I mean the stuff is nice I guess," you shrugged, sitting next to him. "Honestly I just love being with you guys in the hotel. I hadn't really thought about it."

Paul raised his brow. "So, you're gonna give all this up?"

"Well, eventually whenever I decide I want you to turn me." 

Cuuute. Paul just snickered, nibbling on your neck. After that, you were up almost all night. Getting high in your bedroom, concocting bizarre stoner munchies down in the kitchen, video game competitions on the giant television, making out when you were supposed to be watching a scary movie… making out when you guys are skinny dipping in the pool… whole lot of heavy petting. Finally you had tuckered out in his arms, burrowed beside him with his jacket draped over you. Oh god you were so adorable. It was only 3:45 in the morning, so he had a few hours before the sun came up. 

"Okay sleepyhead," Paul huffed, lifting you up in his arms ", bedtime!"

You groaned some half mumbled whine about not being tired which only made him chuckle. "Shhh, chill out kitten. Time to crash. I'll still be here tomorrow night, mkay?"

It was hard for him to put you down. Not that he didn't want to- you wouldn't let go! You kept clinging to his shirt and whining until he had flopped on the bed with you. "Can't get enough of me, huh baby? Eh, I can't blame ya." 

You mumbled something along the lines of "shut up" then went back to sleep. Still adorable. Well he got cozy, gently rolling you off of him once he was sure you were asleep. That's when a loud crash came from the kitchen. A break in? 

Paul sat up- and was immediately yanked back down! "Fuck meee," he groaned, looking over at you. Really?! You were holding his HAIR?? "Ugh, babe you suck."

In a frenzy he managed to untangle the chunk of his blonde hair caught in your vice grip. Carefully he peeked around the corner of the hallway. It couldn't be your parents, he would have been able to hear their car perfectly. No this was down in the kitchen. 

Raccoon, burglar, hobo squatters, whatever he was, it was a little past midnught but he could still go for a snack. 

There was a light on in the kitchen just barely illuminating the living room adjacent to it, Paul could see some sort of shadow shifting around, clinking sounds of glass were, the fridge opening. He tore around the corner, fangs ready to dig into his newest treat. Apparently, someone else was craving a snack. 

There was a breakfast bar hanging off the counter top by the sink in the center of your kitchen, and happily wedged in a tall bar stool was a mop top kid sporting batman pajamas with a big ol' glass of milk and the jar of cookies with the lid off. 

"Whoa!"

"Oh! Shit- uh, hey kiddo," Paul stuttered.

"Shit," the kid questioned, making Paul choke. Crap! 

"Oh crap-! I mean fuc-! I mean-," he smacked his forehead in frustration just so he'd shut the hell up, plunking his butt in the stool trying to process what to say. 

The boy was still staring at him, then with a firm hand, pointed right at him. "You're a really tall cat!"

"Yeah? I like to this so." Paul chuckled, snatching a cookie from the jar, not even waiting to finish chewing before he asked him "What's your name kiddo?"

"B/N," he answered. "You're not gonna tell me sister right? I saw you wrestling with here earlier. Are you like a lion or something?"

Again, Paul nearly choked on his cookie, knocking back the milk. Fuuuuck that kid saw you guys on the couch. "Uh, yeah! You're sister is trying to be a lion tamer, so I'm helping her!" Leaning his cheek on his hand he gave him a sneaky smile. "And I won't tell on you if you don't tell on me and your sister. Your mommy and daddy wouldn't be real happy if she let a big ol' lion in."

B/N nodded firmly as if he was given the most intense secret mission of his short life. Paul just spent a few minutes with the oddball talking about video games, the best cartoons on nowadays, showing him how to stick up some devil horns and head bang. Kid was a natural! Tongue out and everything! With snack time over he shooed the boy back to bed, tucking him in awkwardly.

"Good night Mr. Lion. You're awesome," he yawned, snuggling into bed. Paul felt a twinge of guilt, knowing one day he'd have to take this kid's big sister away… maybe they'd wait just a little longer. Wedged happily inside Y/N's closet atop a pile of her unmentionables with plenty of clothes and some duct tape courtesy of said lovely babe, he couldn't help but hear the boy burst in with excitement, jumping on her bed. 

"Ugh, B/N it's like 9 am, what is it," you groaned from your bed, trying to roll back over under a pile of comforters. 

"You wouldn't believe it! I hung out with a lion last night! He was huuuuge!"

"Yeah? I met he smelled like kitty litter and weed," you half mumbled. 

Oi!

"Nuh uh! Don't you remember? He was the one you were wrestling with in the jacuzzi!"

You sat up straight, your face bright red. "You little twerp, you supposed to have been in bed by then!"

Paul had to stifle a laugh, rolling over. He'd explain it later. After all, lions weren't morning cats.

Marko

When you mentioned your parents flying to Florida to take care of your granny, he couldn't resist the urge to spend the night with you. At first you seemed opposed to the idea. You weren't supposed to have guests over! If your parents caught you home with a boy of all people, they'd kill you then dance on your grave. 

"Pretty please baby doll," he'd hugged, nuzzling his nose into your neck. He wiggled his arms around your neck, teasing beneath your ear with sweet kisses until you practically melted. "I'll be good. Honest, baby girl. No one else is gonna see me, it's not like you'll get caught."

"Well…," you'd hesitate. Well, of course all it took was those bonnie blue eyes, Marko pouting out his bottom lip. "Okay fine, but only if you don't cause any trouble."

"When do I ever?"

You were sure to stock up on snacks for the night. Chips, soda, three types of gummies. You two were the dynamic duo of sweet tooths, if it weren't for his hyper healing he was sure his fangs would've rot out by now. 

 But you were determined. Tonight had to be a perfect sleepover for you and your boyfriend. Later in the afternoon you managed to sneak into the blood drive going on at the beach and steal a cooler of AB negative. After all, it was a special night.

 In regards to the sun, you had made up the guest room with heavy curtains tightly taped to the wall to prevent any light. You even made sure the closet was cleared if that wasn't enough. 

You were so excited once he arrived, practically jumping into his arms. Marko gushed over how cute your room was. Posters, plushies, a plethora of reading material along a wall-height bookshelf, although once he spotted your bed there wasn't much talking left over. When you two were all done having a good ol' time doing the Devil's tango, you insisted on him having a home cooked meal for once. 

"Don't you ever get tired of greasy, soggy chow mein," you ask, sauteing a pan of teriyaki soaked beef. 

"It is not soggy," Marko insisted, feigning offense. 

"You didn't say it wasn't greasy though."

After you two fattened up on a sundae making contest, you crashed on the couch with him, laying comfortably on top wiggled tightly in his arms. Even Marko grew drowsy slurping on the end of a blood pack. You were just so sweet and soft, he couldn't resist the allure of the perfect cuddle partner. Eyes were drooping, almost dozing off.

The sound of clinking glass in the kitchen jolted him awake. You two were supposed to be alone, or so he thought. 

It was nearly impossible to wiggle out from underneath you. When he began to move you verbally whined, holding onto him. "Shhh she it's okay baby girl. I'll be right back," he cooed, lifting you up then laying you back down on the couch. Draping his leather jacket over you, his heart nearly kickstarted again when you snuggled up against it with a weary smile. "Oh you're gonna bring me back to life just to kill me, babe."

Again that loud thump in the kitchen drew his attention. Someone must've either been real stupid or had some twisted death wish to break into your house. With teeth bared he stepped in, swinging the door open. 

Oh! At first he thought maybe it was a raccoon, but following the trail of candy wrappers led him right to the culprit. A guilty six year old covered in chocolate. 

"Well, hey there," Marko chimed, crouching down to look at him. "Where'd you come from?"

"My room," the smart mouth retorted, trying to hide the candy behind him. "Are you some sort of cheetah?"

Marko burst out laughing, the light glinting off his set of fangs. "Heck yeah I am. And who are you?"

"I'm B/N," he mumbled. "Is that why you and my sister were having a roaring contest earlier?"

It was hard not to laugh at that, biting on his bottom lip. "Yeah, but you gotta keep it a secret, okay? It's official Cheetah business, I'm sure you understand."

B/N was a tricky one, Marko could definitely see the family resemblance once he asked

"What do I get if I'm quiet?"

Tricky little bugger wasn't he? That smirk was so familiar it was almost weird. Kudos to this kid for playing the hustle. Bad judge of character though. Marko leaned close and grinned, baring his fangs again. "Well, for one I won't eat you."

The boy gasped, but instead of crying he just laughed. "Okay, deal. Throw in a candy bar?"

"Hm.." Marko tilted his head still squatting in a frog position with his hands resting on his knees. "Well I can't argue with that. You got a deal, kiddo."

Escorting the boy back to his room, Marko crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorway. "You're pretty smart, kiddo."

"Yeah, Y/N always say never get played for a sucker," he sighed between yawns. Typical. He was nearly hustled by a 6 year old. Waltzing back to you he lifted you up still wrapped in his jacket and laid you in your room. If you had been alone he probably would've kept you in the guest room with him. But somebody had to watch the little punk. So wearily he slunk into the quiet room, locking the door for extra measure so no nosey kids came bursting in. He hadn't heard much while he was sleeping that day, but when he came our again you were frazzled after putting your brother to bed around 7pm. Apparently he insisted there was a talking cheetah in the house with a bad attitude who wanted to eat him. "Nah," Marko insisted, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. "I hear punk kids are too tough and chewy for cheetahs to eat."