#imagine turned drabble

[lovebugism]

do something with king steve who secretly likes female/shy/reader

hope u like it xoxo — the one where king steve keeps his best girl a secret (shy!fem!r, secret relationship, fluff, 1.2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

“Boo!”

You jump when a figure appears suddenly behind the door of your opened locker. They’re wearing bell bottoms and a sparkly clip in their strawberry curls. Carol Perkins giggles when her attempts to scare you work. Tommy Hagan follows just behind her, laughing louder until his freckled face scrunches together.

The only reassuring thing about seeing both of them together is knowing Steve isn’t too far behind. He’s got his tongue in his cheek, and his arms crossed over his chest, visibly unamused.  “What are you guys— three?” he scoffs, pushing the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows.

“Yeah, three inches deep in your mom,” Tommy retorts with a boyish chuckle.

Carol squints her made-up eyes at him. She deadpans, “That’s not the comeback you think it is, Hagan.”

You turn to Steve with a panicked glimmer in your eye. You’re so used to being the butt of all their jokes that being in their proximity now fills you with something close to ice-cold dread. You peer at the boy beside you with pinched-together brows, knowing he’s the only one who cares about you past cheating off your homework.

“What’s going on?” you wonder quietly, for only him to hear.

Steve grins, brows raised and eyes twinkling. “My house is gonna be empty tonight. ‘Cause, you know, my dad’s got a work conference or whatever, so… No parents. Big house—”

“A total recipe for disaster,” Tommy interjects with a laugh.

“You’re throwing a party?” you ask, voice trembling. There’s little more that scares you than crowds — well, crowds and loud music and drunk people. Parties were never your scene. Steve knows that better than anyone.

He corrects you quickly, stammering over himself because he never wants you to feel uncomfortable. “No! No, not a party. It’s gonna be lowkey. Just a— a get-together, you know? Just the four of us.”

“Ooh,” Carol croons from behind you. “So no priss?”

“Shut up, Carol,” Steve snaps.

“I’m just used to you following her around like a lost puppy, that’s all.” Carol and Tommy laugh about it together. ‘Cause that’s all they’re really good at — making stupid jokes and cackling like supervillains.

Steve rolls his eyes with an annoyed huff and turns his attention back to you. You take it from him wholly, every ounce of his focus. 

There was something ethereal in your vagueness — in how softly you spoke and how pretty you looked when you weren’t even trying. You’re quiet and mysterious and hidden. Steve desperately wants to be the one that deciphers you.

“Are you in?” he asks in a low, honeyed tone.

Your gaze falls to the tile. “I don’t know…” you murmur.

“C’mon,” he croons and steps closer to you. His sneakers enter your vision until you look up at him again, peering at him from beneath your lashes. His grin is pink and pretty and lopsided. “Don’t leave me with these assholes all night.”

“Dick,” you hear Tommy scoff from behind you. He sounds much further away than that ‘cause all you can see now is Steve. And his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his stupid pretty smile.

You cave instantly. 

You never really stood a chance, anyway. Not with the way he was looking at you.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble and turn back to your locker. You switch your English textbook for a History one and cradle it in your arms. Steve grins, knowing he’s forgotten his on purpose just so he could sit next to you all period.

“Good,” the boy hums.

“We’re finally wearing Wallflower down,” Carol muses, giggling to herself.

Tommy knocks you too hard on the shoulder. “You’ll be one of us in no time,” he grins.

You grimace as they walk off down the hall. That’s the last thing you’ve ever wanted. The thought of there being an ounce of similarities between you and them makes your stomach ache.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Steve tells you, smiling quietly when you nod. 

He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and passes you a folded-up piece of paper. He doesn’t look back at you when he follows his friends down the corridor. You don’t open it until he’s gone.

West wing chem lab, he’s written in chicken scratch. Come find me. 

—————

The hallway at the west end of the school is dim and empty. The floors are untouched, and the lockers are sparingly opened. The air is thick and noticeably stale. You open the door to the old chemistry room with a high-pitched squeak that sounds like something out of a horror movie.

Steve waits for you in the dark classroom, lit only by the natural sunlight streaming in through translucent curtains. He sits at a table in front of the window and toys with the burner at the end of it. He turns the thin blue flame on and off and on again, silently wishing he’d plucked a cigarette from Tommy before he left.

His honey eyes flit to yours when you walk into the room. He grins at the soft smirk on your bitten lips. “What’s that look for, huh?” he teases, turning off the burner and sliding off the desk.

You shrug. “Nothin’…”

“I missed you.”

You scoff when he wraps his arms around you. His wide palms smooth over your back. “You just saw me.”

“It doesn’t count when I’m with Tommy and Carol. I need you all to myself…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs lowly, ducking down to kiss you. His plush lips lock with yours, tasting of nicotine and chewing gum — a near-lethal concoction. He smiles against your mouth when you melt further into him. He parts from you with a gentle smack.

“They’re starting to like me, I think,” you mumble, smoothing your hands over his chest. “Tommy and Carol.”

“I think so, too.”

“It’s awful.”

“Absolutely disgusting,” he concurs, grinning wide when you giggle.

“But, you know, maybe we wouldn’t have to hide anymore,” you stammer, gaze falling when it becomes too hard to hold his. “If they don’t think I’m, like, the lamest person on the planet.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that’s why you don’t want them to know about us, right? ‘Cause you’re King Steve, and I’m… fish bait,” you conclude with a forced laugh.

“No,” he answers instantly. “What? No. That’s not— That’s not why.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want them to know about us because they’re assholes,” Steve confesses. “I mean, they were awful to Nancy when we were together. ‘Cause they’re miserable, and they hate when other people are actually nice. I just don’t want them to… ruin anything, that’s all…”

You muss with a rogue thread at the neckline of his sweater and smile quietly to yourself. “I thought you were scared because you accidentally fell in love with the Wallflower instead of the Prom Queen.”

Steve scoffs. “I didn’t accidentally fall in love with you, first of all.”

“No?” you murmur, brow quirking in disbelief. 

“No, it was very intentional.”

“I don’t believe that,” you argue with a lighthearted chuckle. You think it’s easier than saying, I don’t believe you because there’s no way you love someone like me because you want to.

Steve’s palms squeeze your sides reassuringly, like he can hear all the mean thoughts swirling in your head. “Well, you didn’t make it any easier on me,” he tells you, a crooked smile tugging at his pink lips. “You started talkin’ all smart in Ms. Click’s class, and I started melting.”

“That’s when you knew you liked me?” you scoff. “After I gave a presentation about geopolitical tensions in China?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, licking his lips with heavy eyelids. “See what I mean? That’s hot.”

“God, you’re such a boy.”

[mysindividual]

Unknowingly, his | Aaron Hotchner

requested

MASTERLIST

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem liaison reader

summary: You never fail to make Hotch smile, even in hard times. One late night, when reader comes to his office to do some paperwork with him, he cannot help but catch himself staring at you and wondering if Hayley had the right to be jealous of you

cw: hints of jealous reader, mentions of jealous haley, divorce talk, cheating talk, mutual pinning my beloved <33

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!

It was 7 in the morning when you entered your dull office with an emphatic unambiguous ugh. You tossed your briefcase and jacket onto the leather couch to your right, closed the door behind you with your heel, walked over to the table and turned on the light. You did a good job rearranging everything last night, but the files you were supposed to audit for the day had already been put on your desk. Though, you needn’t to rush as the team had already gotten a new case when 20 minutes prior you received a call. At least you had already been prepared to come down to your office, all dressed up. The phone call came through just as you were to about to cross your doorstep.

Moaning, you picked up the phone, dialed the number and patiently held for a response. You despised this. After a month, the team had a day off and you weren't expected to have a heavy workload today (also, you could never take a day off when the rest of the team did), so the most noticeably awful thing to do on a day like this for you was to call them back in.

You played with a tangled cord of your telephone when a hoarse voice spoke, "Hotchner” on the other end of the call.

Great, you wondered, was he already awake or did you wake him up. You could name a handful of different better ways of doing so.

"Uh, hi, Hotch." You noticed it was slightly too sweet how you said it. It might have been your way to make the news more appealing, or maybe, his early morning voice made you melt. You could never be certain which is the one.

Before he spoke your name, he cleared his throat and you believed you heard a light peck against his lips and someone’s chuckle.

The butterflies in your stomach died in an instant. Another great thing you had to do this morning.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” you said with a wry smile, rolling your eyes, “but I’m afraid I don’t have good news.”

Silence.

It made you glance at the handset you were holding to your ear.

Oh, how you have ruined his day before it even began.

“I figured. Call the rest of the team. I’ll meet you there in 20.” And with that, he ended the call. You could already detect a sudden shift in his tone, could already see a familiar frown appearing on his face.

──────────────────────

It was late at night when you knocked at Aaron's office door. Most of the agents on the sixth floor of the building were already out. Aaron could hear your heels clicking against the floor, echoing in the space before you even entered the bullpen.

"Hey."

A frown was settled on his face as he sat in a large chair behind his desk, his red tie slightly askew on his white-collar shirt, his rolled-up sleeves revealing his bare forearm. You couldn't help but notice that his hair, too, was more disheveled than normal. You tilted your head. If you had the chance, you would stare at him like that for eternity.

When Hotch regarded you with a fleeting gaze and a quick 'come in' in response before resuming to his paperwork and forms, you entered his office with a gentle exhale.

There was no need for questions or instructions as you silently retrieved the documents from your side of the table once you had sat across him.

That was the schedule you used to follow regularly.

Every time a case ended, both of you had to come together and complete the paperwork. At times, you’d spend extra time working together into the late night until you both were barely able to keep your eyes open, whilst other times it didn't take as long. Even though some might argue that it was not the perfect scenario - staying up late with your boss - those times when you had to be silent and be in close proximity to him were calming and almost sufficient to fuel your bizarre attraction that began the moment you first laid eyes on him. It was constantly shifting, influenced by mood changes from both of you. You were never afraid to express your strong opinion even if it didn’t parallel his, never afraid to speak for yourself, but you were also the one that spent most time with him, knew him better than the rest of the team, even had the most in common. The team referred to you as Hotch’s soft spot (not to his knowing, of course). In spite of being one of the youngest members of the team, if another member messed something up, they’d hide behind you, ask you to talk some sense into Hotch. To him, you could never do wrong. He was always a little bit blind to your faults. And you, obviously, weren’t oblivious to that. Not that you took advantage of it, or to be quite frank never a serious one. You could notice how one look, one ‘Hotch?’, one ‘please?’ could make him easily change his mind no matter who stood on the other end of the topic. You still remember when Penelope first started working with the team, and the first time she saw you two together - you saw a ‘?!?’ above her head. She asked if you were the wife.

And then, on the other side, there was a wife. Hotch was married, and you knew his little family - Haley and their son, so you never thought about breaking that boundary. As such, you were very adept at playing the game of hot and cold when it came to Hotch. Even if he weren’t someone’s husband, there was still a bit of an age gap between the two of you, and let’s not forget Aaron Hotchner’s professionalism. He was your boss after all, and in all your mind, you just firmly believed Aaron would never allow himself such a thing.

While you filled out the forms, you noticed something quite different tonight. Hotch had complete trust in you, he was aware of where your loyalties laid. You'd been on the same team for a few years in a row now, during which he would occasionally sign certain documents prior to you completing them. However, tonight was different. Tonight, he appeared unenthusiastic about returning home early to maximize the limited time his job allowed him to spend with his family.

“What’s wrong?” You inquired, feigning ignorance of his eyebrows raising towards you.

He shook it off, replied with a stock ‘Nothing’.

Neither of you seemed to stop whatever you were writing down.

“We’ve spent way too much time together. If you think I wouldn’t notice,” you eyed him. “You are wrong, boss.”

Aaron’s eyes finally really met yours for the very first time tonight. He leaned back in his seat comfortably, arms resting on armrests. “Are you a profiler now?”

“I might be one,” you mused, leaning back in your seat, crossing your legs as you put your pen aside. “Perhaps I have picked up a few skills working with the best.”

He surveyed you, a smile playing in the corner of his lips.

Aaron Hotchner - the profiler - never misses anything.

“In any case, I believed we had agreed not to profile each other,” he spoke gently.

You expressed gratitude to God for that. Would he, then, realize the extent of a crush you had for him in those little moments and mood changes? Was he just as unaware of that as any other man even though Aaron Hotchner was not just any man? You, in rare cases of boredom, would wonder what he really thought of you. Did he think it was just your personality - being all flirty and smiley, with everyone?

“I’m not profiling you, Hotch.” You reassured him. “It’s just… Would you not ask me if I were fine if you’d noticed?”

“Yes, I would.”

“And you’d want me to tell the truth?”

He nodded slightly in response.

Your eyebrows snapped together. “Then?”

As soon as the thought of Haley came back into his mind, his expression fell serious, his smile faltered.

He couldn't believe that Haley could possibly be jealous of any of his colleagues. After being together for years, he believed she would have had more insight, would known him better than that. For months now, that had not been the case. They practically turned into strangers who occasionally had to share the same bed. Even though he didn't realize it then, after the final confrontation and some calm reflection, everything became clear. Although the very thought of losing Haley was unknown… painful.

That morning when y/n called him, the moment Haley was waking him up in bed with her kisses, he called out your name. They both got carried away in the heat of the moment, not realizing that the call was indeed coming at his work number.

He recalled the way she gazed at him then - disappointed more than anything else - she shook her head and pushed him aside, getting up from the bed and putting on her robe. After the call had ended, he wanted to explain to Haley but what she said to him petrified him.

“It's always work, and it's always her, and you always go running like a dog whenever she calls you!”

He was upset, offended. However, he was fully aware that Haley was determined to find a way to bring their relationship to an end, regardless of his actions, whether positive or negative.

Aaron remembered then the call to the home telephone which he had picked, but was welcomed with silence before that someone hang up on him. And then Haley's mobile rang. He knew. He knew then, in that shared gaze with Haley. But regardless of all that, Aaron wanted one more chance, at least for their son Jack, who needed a united family more than anything else.

“Haley and I are getting divorced.” He spoke, not realising you had been back to signing the documents whilst he was busy in his thoughts.

“What?”

That took you by a surprise. You would have never guessed it. Yes, you shared glances with the rest of the team while working on the last case, noticing how something bothered Hotch, how slightly distracted he was. You could have notice how quiet he was on your way back home in the jet, not engaging in a conversation with anyone, with you. Yes, you all have guessed he had an argument with Haley having to leave for work again when he’d finally had a day off, but divorce… No one believed the two of them would ever divorce.

“I’m so sorry, Hotch.”

“For a while it has been… different. I guess there’s nothing I could do about that now, nothing to change the situation we have gotten into.” He spoke as if though he hadn’t heard you, his dark eyes distant in a dim lighting. “I tried.”

You didn’t want to pry. You needed not to know what happened - their reason, whatever it might have been, was sufficient. You didn't believe it was Haley's fault, nor his fault. You could understand both of them. It was indeed a rather challenging one. Only a handful of individuals could understand the job you have chosen to do, sometimes it made you wonder if you’d ever find anyone that would.

Unless it was someone doing the same job, the chances were relatively small. Reid could give his statistics on this one, you’d remind yourself to ask.

“I know, Hotch.” You reached out instinctively, your hand over his, slightly squeezing. He did not move or flinch, his eyes shifting to where the contact was. The hand under your palm was warm, simultaneously rough and soft. His wedding ring was reverberating a tiny bit of coldness against your skin. “And I know you. I know you would never just quit. You don’t deserve this. And I’m really so so sorry.”

“I’m not ideal. Haley has every right. I’m more gone than present, more a boss than a husband.” He sighed, pondering. “My own marriage’s been in trouble and needed saving, but I wasn’t able to admit it and help myself, help us. I wonder how I still keep this job.”

“Don’t take it too hard on yourself, ok? It’s never just one side, but it does get better. I promise. At least that much I know of. If there’s anything I can do…”

“You are here. Listening.”

You once again felt noticed as his intense yet somehow gentlest of gaze met yours. You loved that about Aaron, the ways he could make you feel in just seconds - you could be all platonically giggly and flirty with him in one, but in the next moment when he would regard you with that look in his eyes, one word, one smile - the world would stop, you could only hear your heart beating, his presence only existing. And it scared you.

It should have been just a banal crush.

You withdrew your hand from his at the thought, clearing your throat to cover a moment that was… profound, finding sudden interest in the documents again. “I can complete this by the end of night, you can-“

“No.” He cut you off, sighing as the documents on his desk filled his sight again. “It’s fine. I don’t have anywhere to be in particular tonight. I have to finish this by morning…”

His brows raised once his eyes met yours again before he added, whispering. “And I could use some company.”

Or preferably, he could use your company.

“Ah, Strauss… The woman knows how to keep her employees in dislike of her.” You stated, averting your gaze from his eyes, taking another file from atop of others. “You should give her some tips.”

A soft chuckle escaped his throat, breaking the silent grimness that spread in the room.

“Since this is gonna be one hell of a night...” You put your hands on the armrests, ready to stand up. It was an attempt to run, reflect, calm down. “Anything you want me to get you?”

“Actually, I’m about to get some coffee. Would you like some?”

“Well, if we must finish all this work…” You nodded, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, we have to.”

“Ok.” He said in a soft-spoken manner, rising to his feet, and then pointed his finger at you in a manner similar to scolding a child. “But don’t doze off on me again. I’ll be right back.”

You put your hands up in defiance.

When he passed next to you, you followed him with your gaze out of the office. His perfume barely reached up your nostrils and you slumped in your seat, eyes closed, your breath shuddering.

That was close.

And about that… It wouldn’t be your first time. The team was amazed by your ability to fall asleep literally anywhere - desk, bench, floor, cinema, waiting rooms - you name it.

The first time Aaron found about this talent of yours was after the case. You went to check out of the hotel with the rest of the team, and while waiting for others in the lobby seated on a bar stool with your arms crossed, you fell asleep. He was quite taken aback, or rather impressed as well as everyone else, to see you dozing off while seated. On your way home, the team occasionally made jokes about it, but what stood out to you the most was that Hotch was also very engaged in them.

“Thank you.” He said once he returned to his office and put your cup of coffee before you.

You locked eyes with him, offering a small smile. “You are always very welcome.”

Taking a break from work, you took a sip. Just how you liked it. How attentive. Not that it was surprising. “And I suppose I should thank you.”

He lifted the cup in his hand to his lips but halted before taking a sip, his tongue gliding over his lips. You stared, hypnotized. “I’m sorry? Thank me for what exactly?”

“Yeah, you know…” Nervous, you offered him a report you’d just finished hoping he didn’t catch that. He reached forward to take it. “For indirectly acknowledging that seeing my name on your phone on a day off is not the most pleasant thing. I suppose I am bad news.”

“It’s a rather heavy subject, you know.” He replied in a professional tone, his eyes glued on the paper.

“Well, we’ve got all night.” You joked, throwing your hands in the air.

His eyes softened upon meeting yours once again. “I didn’t say that, and no, you aren’t.”

You lifted your brow at him. And then, there was that crooked grin on your face, teasing him to admit.

He observed you for a moment. “Sometimes, yes.” He succumbed to your will once again, before signing the report, concealing his own smile from you.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kinktober: innocence/corruption

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, virgin reader, unprotected sex, m and f receiving oral and handjob, daddy kink, lots of pet names including kitten/good girl/princess/baby, corruption kink from rafe but hes still very sweet, one instance of pussy slapping lol, mild degradation, use of slut

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana

“i bet you’re so wet right now.” rafe whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

“i’m not.” you pout, not even fully understanding what he’s saying, mind still fuzzy from the intense kiss he just gave you.

“liar.” rafe smirks, hands still placed on your waist from when he pulled you onto his lap and flush against his body.

“i’m not a liar!” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowing as rafe just lets out a chuckle.

“you are.” rafe says, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss against your lips, and even though it only lasts seconds, your head begins to feel dizzy again and you lean forward, seeking out more.

“little slut.” rafe whispers as your forehead presses against his shoulder, unable to keep your eyes on his as your chest presses into his. “i can feel your nipples getting hard.” you sit up suddenly, feeling your face get hot as your cheeks blush. you over your breasts with your hands. “they are not.” “move your hands then.” rafe commands, but you press them harder against your chest, willing your nipples to settle down, but when rafe reaches up and rips your hands away, you know he can easily see the hard buds poking out from under the fabric of your shirt.

“i knew it. liar.” rafe cups your breasts, keeping his hands to the outside of them, manipulating them beneath your shirt as the toys with how they sit on your chest.

you should tell him to stop, but you can’t get the words out. rafes thumb suddenly swipes over your nipple and you jump up off his lap.

“now you’re definitely wet.” rafe says, eyes on your pussy that is now level with his face.

“no, i’m not!” you say again, even as you feel something unfamiliar stirring in your stomach. “you’re being a bad boyfriend right now!”

“the only thing that would make me a bad boyfriend, sweetheart, is if i didn’t take care of my girls pussy when it got wet for me.”

“it’s not wet!” you whine, cutting rafe off before he can say something, “and don’t call me a liar again!” rafe closes his mouth in a hum, eyes coming to meet your face. “then show me.” “what?” you question, glancing down your body.

“if you’re not wet, show me your pussy. let me see.” rafe is staring up at you expectantly, and the flame burning inside of you speaks before the logical part of your brain can. 

you humph and pull your shorts down your legs, leaving you bare. rafes eyes widen, expecting a second layer underneath.

“open up, kitten.” rafe taps your thigh, and you spread your tightly clenched thighs just slightly, revealing a mess of sticky wetness. rafe smiles up at you, and you want to cry out of shame and embarrassment, but mostly for lying to your boyfriend about not being sopping wet.

“there. you’ve seen. i’m a liar, now let me put my shorts back o- ahhh!” you let out a scream as rafes hands land on your hips, pulling you closer to the couch he’s sat at as his lips attack to your clit, forcing his head between your legs as they part so you don’t lose your balance. 

“rafe!” you scream, reaching over him and holding onto the back of the couch as he tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking up the wetness you claimed wasn’t there.

you let out a series of moans as he focuses directly on your clit, bringing you a type of pleasure you’ve never felt before. you know in that moment that there’s no going back, no going back to the innocence you once possessed as you reach a hand to the back of his head, pressing his face further into your cunt.

“admit it.” rafe mumbles against your pussy, only pulling away slightly to speak, letting you feel the vibrations of his voice. “admit that me kissing you made you this wet.” “f-fine.” you cry out as his lips wrap around your clit, giving it a suck that makes you see stars. “fine! yes! you got me all wet.”

“you lied.” rafe pulls away fully, and you try to push his head back between your legs, but he won’t let you. “you lied to your boyfriend. i thought you said we would always tell each other the truth.”

you didn’t trust rafe when he first asked you out. you were new to the outer banks and came from a very sheltered life, so when you finally agreed to be his girlfriend, you made sure some rules were put into place. you didn’t even think to include anything about sex, you’ve never experienced it before.

“i’m sorry.” you pout, the shame about the lie now mixing in with how dirty you feel.

“i’ll forgive you, baby.” rafe tugs you down onto his lap, depositing you on his knee so you’re now face to face. “i’ll forgive you if you’re very good for me tonight and do everything i say.” “okay.” you whisper, not wanting rafe to be mad at you. you blink back the tears that have welled up in your eyes, you cunt clenching around nothing as you wish for his mouth back on you again, back delivering the world-changing pleasure.

“good kitten.” rafe says, cupping your cheek and bringing you in for a soft kiss, but you don’t want soft now that he’s shown you so much more. you deepen the kiss, opening your mouth slightly for rafes tongue, granting him permission as your own tongue tangles with his.

you lean forward to get a better angle, but also end up pressing your cunt into his thigh. you moan into his mouth, rocking forward against his jeans, no doubt leaving a large wet spot as you continue to move.

you don’t even realize that rafe has stopped kissing you, sitting back to watch you get yourself off on his leg. you place your hands on his chest, pushing your clit directly into the muscle.

rafe gives his leg a sudden bounce, making your legs widen. you cry out, eyes closing as you grind down.

rafes hands land on your hips, and you hope he’s going to help, but instead he forces you to stop, shifting you so you’re not lined up anymore. “no, rafe, stop-” you whine, opening your eyes to see his stern expression greeting yours.

“dirty sluts get themselves off like this. i thought you were my good kitten, not a dirty slut.” rafe says, making you almost cower at the harshness in his tone.

“i am good.” you pout, sticking out your bottom lip, and rafe can’t hold back the urge to lean forward and bite it, tugging you back into a ravishing kiss, only pulling away when you’re both out of breath.

“good girls also don’t lose their virginity on a couch. let me take you up to bed, princess.” you just nod, standing up off rafes lap, who only lets you stand for a moment until he’s up, sweeping you into his arms.

“wh-what do good girls do when losing their virginity?” you whisper as he climbs the stairs, feeling your face redden again.

“good girls do as their boyfriends say. and you’re gonna do so good honey, no reason to be nervous.” rafe kisses your cheek as he sets you down on his lush bed, closing the door behind him, hoping that will make you feel a bit more comfortable despite being completely alone in the house.

rafe stands next to the bed as he tips your head up, giving you a sweet kiss that has your nerves fluttering away. he smiles down at you, a wickedness shining through, not able to be fully concealed. 

“can you…” you mumble, and then stop, remembering that you’re supposed to listen to your boyfriend, not tell him to do things.

“it’s okay, baby, ask.” rafe asks, giving you the permission you needed to speak.

“can you take your shirt off?” you ask, surprised at your ability to keep eye contact while asking, remembering the time you went out on his boat and rafe took his shirt off, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him.

rafe doesn’t respond with words, instead pulling the tshirt off over his head and tossing it away. he takes your hand in his, placing it on his bare chest, giving you permission to touch.

you glide your hand over his smooth skin, admiring the way his muscles stand out. you move lower, eyes following your fingertips as you feel his abs, moving lower and lower until you get to the hem of his sweatpants. 

you let out a gasp when your eyes finally meet what’s right in front of your face. rafe is straining so hard through his sweatpants that you know it must be painful, the way he’s pushing against the fabric.

“what do… good girls do with this?” you ask, hoping rafe knows what you’re referring to.

“they touch it.” rafe says, taking your hand again and lowering it over his crotch, pressing your palm against his hardness, making him let out a grunt.

“that feels good?” you ask as you begin to rub your hand over it. 

“baby, it feels amazing.” rafe steps back, and you frown, going to ask him if he’s lying about it feeling good if he’s making you stop, but then he grabs his sweatpants and lowers them down, taking his underwear with him.

your eyes widen at the sight in front of you, a primal urge taking over as you reach back out, wrapping your fingers around his thick length. you’ve never seen a cock up close, and definitely not one as beautiful as the one your boyfriend possesses.

“fuck, your hands on me are heaven.” rafe moans, and you feel a flutter in your heart at the praise, beginning to stroke your hand up and down over his shaft, eyes occasionally traveling up to his face to make sure he’s still enjoying your movements.

you try different things, try faster, try slower, you even take your palm and rub it against the end of his cock, making rafe suddenly thrust forward with a moan. you can tell he likes it, but his reaction scares you slightly, so you keep to stroking his length.

“you want to know what else good kittens do?” rafe asks. he smiles when you quickly nod.

“they lick it.” he says, taking a step closer so he’s between your legs, not failing to notice the way your wetness has grown to leave a mark on his bed, but you’re so focused on him that you’ve forgotten the ache in your pussy.

“oh.” you say, leaning forward and taking an experimental lick of the head of his cock. you look up at rafe, swallowing the slightly salty taste that’s left on your tongue. 

“come on.” rafe encourages you, and you lean forward, licking again, relishing in the taste as you continue, covering the head of his cock with spit as you get into the feeling.

once you’re used to it, you begin to move your hand again, stroking it from base right up to his head where you continue exploring with your tongue.

“try sucking.” rafe says, and you only hesitate for a moment before opening your mouth, placing the head of his cock against your tongue. you close your lips over it, surprised how big it feels inside of your mouth.

you give a gentle suck before looking up, not wanting to hurt rafe. “harder.” he commands, and you close your eyes, focusing again as you give him a harsher suck. the moan rafe lets out spurs you to continue, caressing his cock with your tongue inside of your mouth as you continue to suck.

your hand, that was holding him steady at the base, begins to move again, and you develop a rhythm of sucking and stroking him when suddenly rafe pulls away, chest heaving as you swallow the remnants of his taste on your tongue.

“did i mess up?” you ask, making rafe let out a breathy laugh.

“no, baby, not at all. i just almost came.” he explains, reaching to run a hand through your hair.

“oh!” you say, eyes widening. you almost made him orgasm. you knew that was the end goal, but you never realized how good you were doing. you feel a bit of pride grow in your chest at that.

“you know, we can keep practicing until you eventually can suck all of me.” you glance down to his cock, eyes widening, wondering how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside of your mouth. 

“don’t worry now, darling.” rafe ducks and gives your forehead a kiss. “we will work up to it. for now, why don’t you take your shirt off then lay on the bed?” you had forgotten completely about your own pleasure, but at the reminder you realize how hard your nipples have grown, and how the need to have him back between your thighs has only gotten bigger as you sucked him off. 

you shuck your shirt off, no longer feeling as insecure now that rafe is naked. you scooch further up on the bed until you’re able to lay down on the pillows, watching as rafe paces at the end of the bed, eyes never leaving your body as he admires you, admires you like a predator does their prey before taking them down.

“spread your legs.” rafe commands, and you follow his instructions instantly, bearing your pussy to him.

rafe gets onto the bed, kneeling between your thighs. he runs his hands over your legs, trying to control himself, but the need to hear your moans again is too great.

he presses his thumb to your clit, easily rubbing over it due to your slickness. your back arches up off the bed, letting out a cry.

“good kitten, shh.” rafe says, bring his thumb up and sticks it in his mouth, tasting your wetness before quickly reconnecting. “i’m gonna touch you somewhere new.”

you barely register his words, too focused on the way your clit is pulsing with pleasure. your eyes that you hadn’t even realized had slid closed shoot open when the tip of rafes finger presses against your hole.

“rafe!” you squeal. you’ve never had anyone touch you there before.

“remember what i said about good kittens?” he reminds you. you take a deep breath, letting your body relax. you trust your boyfriend, and you need to make up for lying to him earlier. 

“good girl.” rafe presses his finger harder, until it breaks the seal of your hole. he could moan just from the first knuckle being inserted, knowing you’re going to squeeze his cock so tight.

his finger keeps pushing in, and you feel like it’s impossibly long. it’s uncomfortable for a moment, but his thumb continues to move over your clit, and the discomfort changes to pure elation as you feel a high rising over your body.

“stop, rafe, i think i’m gonna pee!” you warn, but his thumb continues to move, and he turns his hand so his finger quirks up, pressing against the spot inside of you that has you tumbling over the edge, entire body arching up as you moan, letting out a slew of words that sound like rafes name mixed with curses, curses that you never let pass your lips but you can’t help it now.

your entire body shakes as you feel wave after wave of pleasure, all from rafes adept hands. he slows his thumb on your clit and eventually stops when it pulses angrily underneath him, but he keeps the singular digit inside of you.

“did i pee?” you ask, afraid to even look down, unsure what just happened.

“no, baby, you just came. you had an orgasm.” rafe explains, placing his freehand on your outer thigh and rubbing it comfortingly.

“that felt…” you don’t know how it’s possible for you to blush anymore, but you do, “that felt really good.”

rafe smiles down at you, “i know honey, and i’m gonna help you feel another one since you’re such a good kitten. and you’re gonna help me cum too.”

“i’m gonna help you feel like that?” you ask, wanting to experience the intense feeling with your boyfriend.

“you are.” he nods. “this is why you’re such a good girl, we are gonna get to do this all the time now. i’ll show you how to orgasm with my cock, and with my tongue.” “i can cum on your tongue?” your eyes widen, remembering the way his soft but skillful tongue felt against you.

“you can.” rafe says, “but first, i need to open your pussy up with my fingers so i can fit my cock inside of you.” “i don’t know if it’s gonna ffffff-” you’re cut off as rafe begins to move his finger again. 

“i’ll fit baby, don’t worry.” rafe says, feeling how good you’ve already opened up for him. your body lays slack against the mattress, and he’s glad that you got to your orgasm so quickly so he can focus on opening you up while you’re relaxed.

he moves until his singular digit pushes easily into you. he looks up to find your eyes closed, taking deep breaths as you attempt to keep your body relaxed, but you do tense up momentarily when a second finger joins in pressing against your entrance.

before you can even freak out, they are both plunging inside of you, moving easier due to your wetness.

“baby girl, you’re making me so proud.” rafe says, and he swears you actually start to glow under his praise. his innocent little girlfriend, somehow managing to remain sweet even as he finger fucks you.

“can you… touch my clit again?” you ask, swallowing thickly.

“no, princess. next time you cum i want it to be on my cock. i’ll touch your clit then.” rafe says, noticing the face you make. “don’t pout or you won’t cum at all.”

you wipe the frown off your face, really wanting to feel what it’s like to orgasm with rafes cock inside you, even if it looks too large.

“i’m gonna scissor my fingers now, kitten.” rafe warns, and you let out a moan as he starts to open up his fingers, pressing them against your walls to make space for himself.

“there you go.” rafe mumbles, eyes on your cunt as you loosen. he can barely stand to wait any longer as he gently pulls his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth to get another taste of you.

“t-time for your cock?” you ask, whispering the last word so quietly that rafe can barely hear you.

“yes, time for my cock. be a good girl and stay relaxed.” rafe considers what position will be best for you before grabbing a pillow that you’re not resting your head against, and moving it to underneath your hips. he moves closer on the bed, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy.

as soon as he brushes your entrance, you tense up.

“hey.” rafe warns, pulling his hips back as he delivers a swift slap to your pussy, right over your clit that has you crying out. “i said relax.” “sorry.” you whimper, taking a deep breath as rafe lines himself up again. he pushes his hips forward, moaning as the head of his cock is concealed by your tight heat, walls constricting him but he’s able to keep moving as you stay relaxed.

“good girl.” rafe praises you as he sinks in, pausing to move at a snail pace when you squirm or make a noise of discomfort.

eventually, his hips are settled right between your thighs, pressed as deeply as they can go. as much as rafe wants to go feral, he doesn’t want to cause you too much pain, so he lets you have a moment to adjust.

“so big inside me daddy.” you whimper, unsure of where the name came from.

“daddy, huh?” the corner of rafes lip quirks up. “maybe you’re not a good girl after are, maybe you are a dirty slut.” “i’m no-oooo!” you scream as rafe beings to move, his hips pulling away and then slamming back in. your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his cock moving against your walls, every inch feeling so sensitive.

“you’re not a dirty slut? because this is exactly how dirty sluts behave when they have their daddies cock inside of them.” rafe moves faster when he feels that you’re only getting wetter.

“i wanna be your good kitten.” you whine, hands grasping at the sheets.

“hmm.” rafe slows down so he can feel every inch of you, using his cock to memorize the way you feel around him. “maybe you’re my good girl and my dirty slut. can you be both for me baby?” “i can, i can.” you whine, feeling tears slide down your face. rafe keeps one hand stabilizing your hip and uses the other to swipe his thumb across your cheeks to collect your tears.

“be my slut and my princess. cum on my cock for me.” rafe wants to last longer, he really does, but now that he knows how dirty you can be when he pushes you, especially the way you reacted to him slapping your pussy, he knows this is by far the last time you let him play with your body.

he speeds up, his cock swelling inside of you as he rubs you clit again, as promised. you moan consistently, unable to control your voice as you get closer and closer to the edge, now able to identify the feeling as it hits you hard.

rafes cock hits your insides just right, and you explode at the same time as him, your cunt squeezing repeatedly in your orgasm, milking all of the cum out of him as he shouts your name, releasing himself as deeply as he can.

you are both breathing heavily when rafe falls forward, pressing his body against yours. you whine at the change of position in his cock as he keeps it lodged deep inside of you.

“was i good?” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw as rafe picks his head up.

“you were so good, princess. such a dirty little whore for me.” rafe kisses you in earnest, delighting in the way your lips slide over each others, even more open to the make out now than you were before you had sex. “gonna be your good little slut from now on.” you whisper against his lips, surprised to feel rafes cock twitch inside of you as he rehardens slightly.

rafe presses a deep kiss to your lips, “i know you will, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

[fandomfloozy]

nsfw mdni

watching jason todd work on his motorcycle be like...

jason: what?

y/n: just lookin'

jason: you look like you got something to say

y/n: [shakes head] mm-mm

jason: you sure?

y/n: ...well...

jason: tell me

y/n: mmmm... no, it's too embarrassing

jason: pfft. you? embarrassed?

y/n: perish the thought

jason: so lay it on me

y/n: oh, i'll lay something on you

jason: babe...

y/n: jaybird, i don't mean to be crass but--

jason: sweetheart, just spit it out--

y/n: i wanna suck your dick so bad

jason: ...

jason: /////// jesus christ...

~°•*~

A/N: something about a man all greased up and sweaty while working on machinery uwu

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), a lot of cussing (bkg-typical), reader is implied to be smaller than bkg, some angst (or a lot? :0)

words. 3k (ofc had to end it with a bang)

a/n. see the end of the post for a message from me, as well as the title reveal of the series! hope you enjoy this ending <3

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

The fairy lights strewn across your walls and interwoven with fake vines finally flicker out, robbing you of your clear view of the ceiling, leaving you in a sea of darkness with the only source of light being the sliver of sunshine that’s entering through the small gap between your curtains.

You heave a heavy sigh, vaguely seeing your chest rise with the action, your legs tangled in a messy heap of your blanket and pillows.

Replace the damned batteries—again, you make a mental note while side-eyeing the alarm clock that reads 8:37 AM.

Rolling your torso to the right side in a stretch, you groan as your hips make a loud cracking sound.

You can’t remember the last time you intentionally moved your body like this—at least, not for the last two days.

Ever since you got home that Friday night from Bakugou’s parents’ house for Thanksgiving, you haven’t exactly been attuned to your body and what it’s telling you its needs are.

As much as you’d hate to admit it, you’ve been way too in your head since then, going over every interaction with Mitsuki and Masaru, pinpointing every lie you spat out, and replaying in your head the delighted reactions they paid you back in return. And with each re-run came a new wave of nausea and the pitiful urge to collapse in a boneless heap.

You can’t even bear to think about how they’d react once they find out everything’s a sham.

God, Mitsuki’s gonna have a heart attack and die before she even gets the chance to enjoy retirement with her husband.

Needless to say, you barely managed to sleep a wink that night, too heavily preoccupied with your guilt and paranoia to even get a half-hour straight stretch of rest in.

The weekend that followed wasn’t any better.

The worries expanded from Bakugou’s family and how they’d react to his friend group, and god forbid Kirishima and Mina and Sero and even Kaminari find out and you painfully witness palpable disappointment flash across their kind features.

Especially after they welcomed you that warmly into their squad and even went out of their way to conjure stories about Bakugou to make you laugh and enjoy yourself.

By Sunday afternoon, you finally decided you were in no shape to prepare for all the work needed to be done for the next day, let alone show up to the agency and face everyone.

Particularly Bakugou.

The thought of whom has been causing puzzling physical sensations that you find messes with your rationality and causes your chest to ache, frustrating you even more and furthering your resolve to avoid things for now until you can come up with a solution to the situation at hand.

And so with an email sent to Hikari about filing for a sick leave tomorrow and her having to step in for a meeting with the founders and department heads on the day of, as well as a reply expressing her affirmation later, you buried yourself in your queen-sized bed and doom-scrolled to distract yourself until you fell into a fitted sleep.

Which leads you to now.

With you, again, staring at the ceiling, the sounds of nothing but distant honks and a gust of wind entering through the windows breaking the silence.

At least, that is the case until a barrage of weighty knocks echoes throughout your apartment and into the doorway of your bedroom.

Almost instantly, you sit up in alarm, and you’re immediately hit with gut-wrenching dizziness from the action. Despite that, you stumble out of your bed in a hurry, swiftly adjusting your pajamas and baggy T-shirt as you shimmy your socked feet into your house slippers before running to the foyer.

Your heart is hammering in fear as you tiptoe to peek at the intruder through your peephole, thoughts racing as to who the fuck could this person possibly be, visiting at not even 9 AM on a Monday.

You’re bracing yourself to see the ghost of Christmas past who just happened to visit a little early, whoever the fuck that person could be in your life, and for your stomach to drop in horror at the sight of them, only it isn’t someone from your past.

No, it’s someone from your present.

Someone who’s very much in your present.

Yet your stomach drops nevertheless.

Through the hole, Bakugou is studying the unit number hung on your apartment door, brows furrowed in what you think is confusion and a tinge of impatience. He’s decked in his winter hero costume, although his eyepiece is up against just above his forehead, pinning down his notoriously unruly ash blonde hair. You almost miss it, but he seems to be carrying a plastic bag with his left hand.

You feel your throat dry up at the sight of him, and you’ve half a mind to do a complete 180 and tiptoe back to your bed and just pretend you’re not home when he knocks again, only this time the knocking’s more insistent.

Despite yourself, you still jump at the sound, and you chalk it up to your nerves being indubitably fried from three days of constant worrying.

You glance longingly at your bedroom, itching to dive into your sheets, drown out the rest of the world, and pretend you’re not in the middle of the mess you’ve inadvertently made. But as you look back at the door and the sound echoing from its direction, you’re washed with an uncanny sense of shame.

What happened to facing your fears head-on?

With a few soothing circles to your chest where your heart is approximately at in an effort to ground yourself, you take a few cautious steps towards the door, hand slightly shaking as you reach out to hold the knob.

Here goes fucking nothing.

Bakugou’s in the middle of still rapping at your door when you finally twist the handle and fling the slab of wood wide open, revealing the man with his right fist frozen mid-air, a prominently surprised look plastered across his features, as if he didn’t expect anyone, let alone you, to open the goddamn door even with his absurd knocking.

You force a smile onto your face, although you can tell it probably looks more pained than anything. “Bakugou.”

At the sound of his name, it’s almost as if he snaps out of a trance because he quickly brings down his raised hand, clearing his throat in the process. And almost immediately after, an eyebrow raises in question.

He opens his mouth to speak, and you couldn’t have ever guessed what he’d say next if you tried.

“…You don’t look like shit?”

You gawk, “Excuse me?”

Bakugou frowns, as if you’re the one not making any sense. “I thought you were sick.”

With that, he thrusts the plastic bag he’s been carrying to you.

Your eyes dart down to inspect it, before looking back up at the man in confusion.

He huffs, “‘s care package, is all. Come on, fucking take it.”

Not knowing what else to do, you gingerly take the bag off his hands, opting to cradle it with both arms and hold it close to your chest. You give him a quiet thanks, to which he just nods in acknowledgment.

You both stand there in awkward silence for what feels like minutes, neither of you saying anything. It’s only when you catch Bakugou peeking at your living room above your head that you remember basic courtesy.

“…You want to come in?” you meekly ask, conflicted as to whether or not you prefer a decline from the pro-hero.

To your chagrin, or delight—you don’t fucking know—he replies with a curt ‘Sure’ before squeezing in through your doorframe and toeing off his boots.

Against the backdrop of your rather modest home, pro-hero Dynamight looks completely out of place. His bulky figure further dwarfs your small decorative knickknacks, and his black and orange pieces stand in stark contrast against the earthy tones of your furniture.

Suddenly remembering you’re fucking staring, you lift your eyes back up to Bakugou’s face, only to find him already studying you.

You quickly scramble for something to say.

“H-how’d you get up here?”

“…The elevator?” he answers, with too much of an ‘are you dumb’ undertone for your liking.

You huff, “No, I meant how’d you get past the security and receptionist? And I don’t remember ever mentioning what floor and unit I lived in.”

To that, Bakugou only shrugs. “The guard recognized me. Even asked for a fucking photo. And when I asked about you, he was quick to give me your details.”

“Seriously?!”

Bakugou has the audacity to roll his eyes, before: “He knows about us, dumbass. Said he read it in the news.”

Oh.

“R-right,” you dumbly reply. “Sorry.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head in what you think is dismissal. He shifts his weight to his other leg from where he’s standing near the backrest of your couch, a few feet away from you awkwardly leaning against the kitchen island where you’ve placed his gift bag.

When you meet his gaze again after a brief moment, he’s already looking at you expectantly.

“What?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Why are you not at work?”

You absolutely can’t with his fucking bluntness.

“I’m sick,” you lie, surprising yourself with how smoothly it tumbles out of your mouth.

You’ve had plenty of practice after all.

But apparently, not enough to fool Bakugou.

“Bullshit.”

Instantly, you feel a wave of indignation wash over you, together with a sense of deja vu—as if this conversation has happened before.

“I don’t think you’re my fucking thermometer, Bakugou,” you snap, unable to rein in your anger.

“Really, now?” he retorts, not missing a beat. “How ‘bout we use the thermometer I brought you and see what that has to say, hah?”

Before he can even move towards you to grab the tool from where it’s sitting behind you, you blindly reach for the bag behind you and bring it to your front, clutching it close to your chest.

“No.”

At your move, a devilish sneer invades his features. “So you’re admitting it, then?”

You purse your lips in a tight line, already teeming with irritation. “I don’t owe you an explanation. My request’s already been approved by HR.”

“But why?” he presses, eyebrows seemingly permanently furrowed. “You never take time off unless it’s a major emergency or some shit.”

“And you don’t just take off and abandon your patrol duties, yet here you are,” you quip, not knowing how else to respond to his accusation because it’s true.

“I didn’t abandon patrol,” he spits back, “I had Eijirou cover for me.”

That’s it.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m a goddamn mess, right now, okay?” you finally cry, throwing your hands up as if gesturing a surrender. “Can’t a person have just one day of not having to fucking lie to everyone?”

To your surprise, Bakugou doesn’t bite back and bark a harsh reply. Instead, he only stares at you expectantly, wordlessly coaxing you to explain.

And you don’t know what it is about it, but his borderline concerned gaze is the catalyst that causes the proverbial dam to break open and for everything to come flooding out.

Your voice is so pathetically small when the words finally come out.

“…Bakugou, why are we even doing this?”

Again, he doesn’t say anything, and you take his silence as an opportunity to keep going.

“You know, at first, I thought I—no, we—had a rationale,” you start, looking at everything else in the room but him. “I wanted to get back at my ex, and you, for some reason, wanted to be a hero and get back at him…too? Okay, shit, it’s already getting confusing.”

At that, Bakugou scoffs. “Quit making me sound like an aimless dumbass, idiot. I just hate ugly ass douchebags.” He crosses his buff arms in front of his chest, “It’s a personal goal of mine to make them pay.”

You eye him suspiciously, not exactly sold on his answer, but you press on.

“Okay… And so we—I did—exactly that by punching him at his wedding. Which brought us unnecessary attention from the press, eventually pushing and forcing us to act like we’re dating around everyone.

“And we’ve done exactly that!” you bemoan, “Around your closest friends, even around your sweet, innocent parents, for crying out loud!”

You finally will yourself to look at Bakugou, and he looks like he’s about to say something but you cut him off before he can.

If you don’t get this out now, you doubt you’ll ever get another chance to do so.

“It’s just—I—I don’t think I can do this anymore, Bakugou,” you finally say, shoulders sagging in relief at finally having said aloud what’s been haunting your mind.

You look at him squarely, injecting as much conviction as you can into your tone for what you’re about to say next.

Because, you now realize, it’s the one thing that’s been plaguing you the most.

“I don’t want to cause you to fuck up your life any more than I already have.”

You study his face, bracing yourself for a spectrum of reactions you can potentially elicit from the man. You watch as his jaw visibly clenches, and it bewilders you how he can look so pained when, no matter how much you rack your brain for a reason, there’s nothing in it for him in this silly, not-so-little arrangement of yours.

Except, maybe a bit of self-satisfaction and amusement over having helped a damsel in distress.

A few minutes of silence pass with neither of you saying anything.

“…Bakugou?” you finally ask, voice small.

Suddenly the previous expression that was just on his face morphs into a full-on scowl, so much so that the man looks like he’s about to combust any second now.

And erupt he does.

“You have some fucking nerve, you know that?”

Again, and despite yourself, a pulse of fury courses through your body, but before you can even spew your own venom in your defense, Bakugou beats you to it.

“Who gave you the fucking right?”

You’re fuming. “Who gave me the fucking right to what?”

“To fucking walk into my life, just like that!” he snaps, shutting you up.

He shakes his head, disbelieving and seemingly resigned. “Like you had any business strutting in looking so fucking pretty, and then you had to put a nail on the coffin by being the best at your job like it’s no big fucking deal? You put all the agency’s useless executives to shame with how hard you work and how good you are at it.

“And you go ahead and punch the guy who’s been a complete dickhead to you and then worry about how you ruined his wedding. And you say all this nice shit to me and my friends and my family like it’s fucking nothing.”

His hand shoots up to pinch the bridge of his nose, like he’s feeling a headache creeping in, before he drops it in favor of turning to fully glare at you.

“But now you have the gall to call it quits when I’m just starting to get used to this? It’s—you—you’re something else.

“You’re a fucking pain in my ass, you know that?”

Robbed of all words and eyes wide as saucers, the only thing you can choke out is: “W-what are you trying to say?”

At that, Bakugou scoffs. “You really are a fucking dumbass, aren’t you?”

But you don’t even get to retort a defense, or even get the slightest bit offended at his remark, because in the blink of an eye, Bakugou is on the move—purposefully stalking towards you.

And just like that, he pulls you into a searing kiss.

You think you might have squeaked in shock at the contact, but that thought is suddenly overwritten in your mind the moment you feel his big hand rest on the space between your neck and shoulder, while the other remains firm holding your chin in place.

Your eyes flutter close at the intensely warm feeling, and before you get to talk yourself out of it, you kiss him back, and Bakugou’s grip on you tightens when you do so.

And as you revel in the softness of his lips and the fervent way he’s kissing you like he’s been waiting to do this for as long as he could fathom, everything finally dawns on you.

Your feelings—your true feelings—and the fact that you’ve been in denial all along; an idiot who chose what to see and hear and believe to protect herself from hoping and potentially getting disappointed in the end.

But this?

This.

This is the farthest thing from disappointment.

Finally, and maybe a little too soon to your liking, Bakugou slowly pulls a few inches away, and the boyish grin that’s now decorating his beautiful features causes your heart to throb so painfully that it almost hurts—in a good way.

With his two hands that are now resting on your shoulders, he squeezes the flesh, bringing you somewhat back to reality.

“That answer your question, princess?”

Despite yourself, you flush, but now you find that you don’t mind Bakugou noticing, what with the wave of warmth that floods you at the view of him grinning even wider at the sight of you.

Not trusting your voice not to crack just yet, you can only nod as you smile and feel tears slowly pooling your eyes. And not wanting for him to see them, at least for now lest he worries, you quickly blink them away before leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

And he leans his against yours.

A few moments pass before he speaks up again.

“…Fucking finally.”

“Fucking finally…you have a girlfriend?” you jokingly reference his best friend, although despite the playfulness of the quip your heart is hammering at the suggestion and silently begging, begging for an affirmation.

But what he ends up giving you is lightyears further than that.

Bakugou shakes his head, tipping your chin up so that you’re looking straight into his eyes.

He grins.

“Fucking finally I have you.”

a/n. not to be emotional out here, but this series was such a joy to work on. i haven't written in a year and a half since this series, what with my depression having gotten really bad. i'm nowhere near better, but the process of working on this series and interacting with you all really gave me a sense of fulfillment that i haven't felt in the longest time. with that, i want to thank you all for the support and love <3 this wouldn't have been as enjoyable without you all!

and so drum roll, please; the title of the series is: the wonderful mess that we made (from the song flaws by bastille). a separate masterlist for this will be posted soon, so pls keep an eye out for that :,)

lastly, i'd love to hear from you about how you found the series! my replies, tags, and asks are always open <3

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @lovra974 @chelbyisbord @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon @the2ndl @keiscwsz @onlyisaa @aizawa19 @471323 @bakugosgothhoe @bleublooded @msjaeger @ellielover69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they make the biggest difference! have an awesome day ( ˘ ³˘)

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

can you do a bakugo x reader who’s afraid of the dark? i think he’d be cute about it and make small explosions kinda like fireworks to cheer them up

omg whats so funny about this is that this is a scenario that happens in my oc x canon verse actually omg !! this is such a cute ask, tysm anon ! fem reader (tho no gender specified) ages arent specified here but i imagined both katsuki n reader younger (11-12) !!

there's a sudden power outage during math class.

the mix of groans and immediate screams put you on edge, they make your heart beat and you wish you could tell them all to just shut up. but you're mouth isn't working, your throat is clogged up and you can't see anything.

you hate the dark. it's embarrassing to still be scared of it at your age, it's childish and you're not a little kid anymore. you're sure katsuki wasn't scared of the dark anymore. granted, he wasn't scared of anything.

you’d walked out of your classroom, trying to maybe find some type of light source outside of class, you doubted the teacher noticed you leaving with all the chaos brewing.

very bad idea, it was pitch black. probably even darker than in class somehow. you feel your heart beat quicken as your eyes slowly start stinging.

you won’t cry, that’s so lame.

you’re old enough to know that monsters don’t exist, you know nothing is going to come snatch you up to drag you off into the darkness never to be seen again. of course you know that.

but you’re still so scared, and the scenarios you’d just made up where making you even more nervous. your eyes sting and you know it’s lame, but you really feel like crying.

if you were going to cry, you at least wanted to make sure no one could see you doing it once the lights turned back on. you manage to find a broom closet in the darkness and decide to hole up in there. you shiver, tightly hugging your knees. you feel tears prick in your eyes. it’s lame, and you’re too old to be crying, but you figure no one will know anyway.

then the door slams open.

you gasp, but don’t dare look up and squeeze your eyes shut tightly. maybe a monster was here to take you, maybe it was one of your classmates and they were gonna tell everyone how uncool and lame you were for crying.

“what’re you doing in here ?! i was lookin’ all around for you !”

you look up then, and katsuki looks back at you angrily. you bite your lip, you didn’t want him of all people to see you like this, he’d for sure think it was lame. katsuki’s expression morphs from anger to surprise to confusion. he raises a brow.

“what’re you crying for ?” the tone of his voice makes you hide your face again, furiously wiping at your eyes. you can see how he looks at you from the lights coming from outside, it peeks through the opening of the door, and you think that’s worse than a monster coming to get you.

“i-i’m not !” you mumble, your voice crackles as you do. you hear katsuki huff and then the door slams. what you were afraid of came true, you think. he thought you were embarrassing and wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore—

warm, warm hands grip at your wrists and rip them away from your face so you can see—katsuki. he’s still here ?

“liar.” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “y’know i hate liars.” you do know, you don’t want katsuki to hate you, that’s why you’re in here. you blink at him in surprise. katsuki only squints at you, before plopping down next to you. it’s a very tight squeeze, but he nudges your shoulder to make space for himself and he makes it happen.

anything katsuki put his mind to was possible. if he wanted to sit next to you in this cramped broom closet he was going to, no matter what. you always found that cool about him.

“why’d you run off ? i was looking for you..” he asks.

“i thought you wouldn’t notice..” you respond meekly. katsuki looks back at you. your shoulder hurts a bit so you readjust and move back. you can see his incredulous expression even better.

“hah ? why wouldn’t i ?”

why wouldn’t he ? because you were lame ? because crying about the dark at your age was embarrassing ?

“cus..” you fiddle with your hands, you can’t finish your sentence. katsuki finishes it for you.

“what, cus you’re scared ?” the way he says it. scared. makes you want to deny it again. but you hate lying and katsuki hates liars. so you just shrug. it’s quiet again, you hear the tapping of branches against the window outside. rain tapping the window, and then a big crack of thunder. you jump a bit despite yourself.

“teach said the power won’t be back till this let’s up.” he explains. this meaning the storm, you assume. you don’t know what to say anymore, you’re glad katsuki can’t see you.

“s’fine y’know..” he utters after a bit. you look back at him in shock, blinking rapidly. your eyes have gotten used to the darkness and you can see how his eyes dart around. he settles on pulling at his shoe laces for a bit.

“but…” you start, your throat is still clogged up “you said you hated crybabies…an’ scaredy-cats..” katsuki scowls at your words, tugging and twirling at his laces.

“i do.” he confirms, then he glances at you. “but i know you’re not.”

oh. you can’t muster up anything. you know you should say something now, and you feel your cheeks warm at his words. but it’s still so dark.

katsuki sits quietly as he inspects you. then he gets in your space again. you whine in annoyance, he’ll squish your shoulder at this rate but he grumbles back, he’s made up his mind. and there was nothing you could do about it.

and you thought that was kinda cool.

he stretches his hand out in front of you both. “look,” is all he says. you do, and after a moment.

soft little "cracks !" and "pops !" fill your ears, they’re not from outside, but from his hand, small orange lights accompanying them. you can’t stop looking, in awe as he keeps going. you always thought katsuki’s quirk was cool, and how much he control he had over it. he’d be an awesome hero, you're sure. he made sure to tell the whole world he would be.

he insisted that you’d be his number one fan forever. you always jokingly tell him he’ll have to work for it. “watch me, then !” he’d smirk, he’d claim he’d be the strongest in the world and you’d have no choice but to beg for his autograph then. “in your dreams !” you’d quip, but it never discouraged him. you never told him you were already his biggest fan. that he was your best friend in the world, that you thought he was the coolest.

“cool..” you utter quietly.

you can hear him huff proudly next to you, then the sparks slowly stop. you turn to look back at katsuki. his face is slightly illuminated by the sparks he tries to stop, you think you see a bit of pink on his cheeks.

"who cares if you're scared..i'm here, so you don't gotta be anymore." katsuki shoves his shoulder against yours teasingly "so don't go runnin' off anymore, got it ?"

and you hope his eyes have adjusted too, so he can see you smile. you're still a little scared now that it's completely dark again. and you're still not fully convinced a monster won't pop out and try to eat the both of you. but you know katsuki isn't scared of anything, and if one does show up he'll blast it away.

and he'll light up the way for you, no matter how dark it gets.

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | lava girl!reader, prohero!reader

The moment Pro Hero Dynamight lands on the scene, he knows something’s very wrong. Not only because of the amount of chaos around but also because fuckin’ Deku is down. Literally, face down, whole body trembling in pain due to the beating he just received, and fuck, that’s not a scene Bakugou encounters often.

Dynamight runs towards his hero partner, hand immediately landing on Deku’s back. Yes, he’s breathing, heart beats gallop in his chest –he is alive. Deku moves, raising his head when he feels Bakugou’s touch. The blond sighs relieved.

“Deku… What the fuck happened?!” 

“The villain’s… quirk…” Deku coughs in between words.

He doesn’t have a chance to completely warn Katsuki before an explosion makes them both fly apart. Dynamight swears loudly, barely holding his stance as the blast pulls him away. When the smoke subsides, he opens his eyes and they widen when right in front of him he sees himself.

A carbon copy of Pro Hero Dynamight comes walking, smiling smugly and evil as his cannon shows the residues of the blast.

“THE FUCK??!!” The real Pro Hero exclaims, completely gobsmacked. And angry. How they fucking dare to copy him?? A villain above all!!

“Kacchan… His quirk copies a person and their quirk! Look out!” 

As Deku yells in his way, Bakugou has to dodge another blast, this time intended completely at him. He hisses as his left elbow caught a bit of the fire. Fuck. This villain even copied the amount of power? By the burning pain in his elbow, Bakughou checks off that as a yes.

He shakes the pain off his brain, standing ready this time for another blow from himself. He’s fucking ready to beat some ass –well, kinda like his own ass.

But as again the smoke dissipates, this time is not himself who Katsuki encounters but you.

It's you.

You stand a few meters away in your hero costume. Dynamight frowns, “Y/H/N?? What the hell are you doing here?!” He intends to walk closer to you, but the evil smirk that appears on your face is so out of your character –especially directed towards him– and Deku’s yell again makes Katsuki stop dead in his tracks.

“NO! It’s not her! It’s the villain!”

A bone-chilling laugh leaves your mouth that makes everyone in the scene freeze in worry as lava strings start falling from your hands, and Dynamight gulps. Holy fuck.

For the first time in his career as a pro hero, Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t fucking know what to do. Fuck, he knows the person in front of him is not you but the villain. Yet… SHIT! FUCK! He can’t fucking fire against his wife! He could fight against anyone… Damn it, even if it was Deku or Kirishima or anyone, he could do it. He knows is the villain. But you?? Hell fucking NO.

So, Bakugou ends up doing what he never does, no matter how beaten up he gets. But this is a fuking emergency. 

“I need backup. NOW!” Dynamight barks through his hearing aid, and the whole agency hears loud and clear as everyone moves towards the scene.

In the meantime, Bakugou avoids every whip of lava the villain in the form of your persona throws at him. He dodges smartly –thanking every possible existing god that you bugged him enough into training with you similar to this a while ago; if not, he doubts he would be this agile against this fucking attack. With every attack, he moves further away from where Deku is –alongside some civilians, ‘cause those noisy ass fuckers are always in the way trying to take a damn picture!– and closer to the river. He needs to find a way to get the villain to make some contact with the water. If this piece of shit villain has your quirk now, it would only take a bit of water and they are fucking out.

Dynamight fails to dodge a particular whip that catches his shoulder, making him groan in pain as he falls to his knees.

“You’re pretty stupid if you think I haven’t realized what you’re trying to do,” you laugh mockingly, your lava whips stopping for a moment. “I thought you were smarter than that… baby.”

The way the villain says the nickname in your voice makes Katsuki want to vomit. It’s so… disturbing and ugly. He will definitely have nightmares after this.

Fuck! What the hell does he do now?! He can’t– FUCKING HELL! He feels dizzy, the sole image of you makes him want to puke, because he can’t. He can’t shoot you. It doesn’t matter that it’s a villain, it’s the perfect image of you, his beautiful and loving wife, in front of him. He will cut his own damn hands if he ever has to shoot against any form of you. He can’t– He CAN’T– HE FUCKING CAN’T–

As the villain laughs at his pathetic turmoil and a whip of lava stands high in the air ready to be sent at his kneeling form on the floor and probably cut him in two with the burn, a roar comes from under the ground. 

It’s an intimidating deep sound that makes everything tremble. The sound it’s so profound and raucous, filled with rage and determination that Katsuki feels it in his chest.

The ground between him and the villain starts to collapse, a burning heat and lava coming from down there that makes the villain retreat several meters when a wave of lava lunges against them.

And right there, from the middle, you emerge. 

Katsuki shakes his head suddenly realizing what is going on. Shit, it’s some sort of trance.

“You fucking dare hurt my husband with my own quirk?!” You growl, completely blinded by rage at well– yourself.

Pro Hero Dynamight snorts astonished, his heart beating fast and so fucking in love with you. Fuck, he loves it when you defend him, and he will never get tired of witnessing such a majestic view. Lava dancing around you at your disposal and own will, whole body glowing in red heat that chills his bones at how demonic you look. Fucking beautiful. Beautifully perfect. All his.

You lunge again against the villain, this time yourself included with the lava wave; but as you’re about to approach them, the villain changes form again and it’s Katsuki in front of you. It makes you hesitate in your attack as you stop right on time in front of the villain.

The real Katsuki opens his eyes wide as he finally understands.

The villain probably takes the form of one’s loved one to weaken them, not only attacking with their same quirk, but also sinking their mind into a state of submission that prohibits any counterattack. Shit, that’s a fuckin’ powerful villain. But it is just that. A copy. And it’ll never understand each quirk as the owners themselves. Still though, the use of the quirks are pretty lethal, real. Damn it.

“FUCK, NO!” He screams as the villain in Katsuki’s form smirks evilly, less than a meter in front of you, and his canon fires against you.

Howitzer Impact.

The blast flies you away, completely unexpected and unable to control your own body in your flight. And Katsuki is right there to catch you.

The villain cackles wildly, the smoke around blinding him from the real heroes. He looks so satisfied he could land an attack like that, and to none other than Dynamight’s wife. “How’s wifey, Dynamight? She survived? How would like the titles on the news, mh? ‘Dynamight kills his own wife’ or ‘Poor Dynamight couldn’t save his wife’?” He taunts, the smoke clearing the view of the real Bakugou, one knee on the floor and the other flexed as his entire body covers yours in protection.

He’s looking at you, the blast made your lava retreat completely even from your body as you look now in your normal and delicate human form, the fire has burned your face, right from under your left eye down to the neck. When you flutter your eyes open, you encounter the hateful look he has written all over his face as his eyes roar only one word: KILL.

When Pro Hero Dynamight turns to look at the villain, Deku –who finally got closer to the scene with Pro Hero Shoto holding him up with an arm around his shoulder– swears under his breath. He knows that look.

The villain in Dynamight’s form takes a step back when the real hero stands up slowly, a crazed look in his face as he turns.

“Now, this is fuckin’ personal…”

[tlou-reid]

as much as he’d hate to admit it, spencer kept a lot of secrets from the team.

some were minor, like how the cardigan jj gave him really was itchy, or how the new coffee machine in the office was significantly harder to clean than the old one, making each cup of coffee slightly more bacteria-filled than the less. other secrets were major, like the time his addiction had taken hold of him or the many social media accounts he had on the smart phone the team had recently found out about.

it’s true. he was on almost every platform, usually under some variation of user17376 and with no icon. but he was still there. he followed exactly one person, who also seemed to be his biggest secret.

you.

he wasn’t even sure if you knew of the vaguely-stalker-esque accounts he created just to keep tabs on you. he could only imagine how hard it would be to keep track of one user, without a name, located in your hundreds of thousands of followers. you might’ve hit one million after your newest single dropped, he hadn’t had time to check.

spencer felt bad stumbling out of your release party. he’d stuck to the back as you did your thank you speeches, excitedly dropping hints to your upcoming album. your relationship with spencer, if it could even be called that, was very private and he intended to keep it that way.

that’s why he was keeping you a secret. obviously. not because he hasn’t truly asked you to be his girlfriend. or because he was too shy to admit he even knew someone as famous as you. or because of his own insecurities telling him that he didn’t deserve you. no, of course not.

after your speeches and singing along to your brand new pop single that dropped at midnight, you did scooch your way to the back to talk to him. spencer’s arm still had goosebumps from where you held it as you laughed at his joke. he was a bit more bold now that he was three fruity drinks in. despite your fame and all of the attention you received, spencer felt comfortable in the hidden depths of your party.

his mind sort of shut off, just enjoying his time with you. every conversation topic was riveting, and he wished he could stay here with you forever.

and then his work phone rang in his pocket. spencer pretended like he didn’t see the small flash of disappointment when he answered it, saying a “hey, jj,” quietly into the speaker. you gave him a quick side hug, and then ran off, knowing he was about to leave.

and here he was, stumbling out of the party, listening to jj’s authoritative voice tell him that he needs to get to quantico asap, bring a go-bag, and meet the team on the jet so they could go over the case.

yikes. right to the jet. must be important.

as he hung up, he looked solemnly into the building your party was in. despite the empty feeling in his chest, he couldn’t help but smile at the pink lights pouring out of the windows.

and off he was to quantico.

the train ride there gave him a lot of time to ponder your interaction with him. sure, it felt like you maybe wanted to be his girlfriend when you were together. you held strong eye contact with him, weren’t afraid of small physical touches, gave him all of your attention, and stood close to him when engaged in conversations. all tell-tale behavioral signs of a crush.

but things never went deeper than surface level. it always seemed like he was catching up with a friend, not flirting with someone who he was interested in. even if he was definitely interested in you. he sighed, realizing that feeling had to stem from you, then. if you were into him, you’d also flirt with him.

so, no matter how many times you invited him to things, or he slept on your velvet couch after a game night with you and a few of your friends, that’s all he’d ever be to you. a friend.

spencer decides to turn his mind off (and his hidden smart phone), opting to bury his nose into a book. he brought a few, just in case.

he doesn’t turn his phone back on until the second night in the dingy motel. he really was trying to give himself space from you. you were infecting his mind, preventing him from thinking clearly and making decisions on the case. he thought one look at your social media might clear his head.

he opened your twitter, seeing only one new tweet. it was a video, captioned ‘been working on this one, hope you like it.’ the video played in the small media player as he inspected it. you were sat criss-cross, an acoustic guitar resting in your lap. your nails were pink, matching your newest single cover.

as he looked closer, he could see the glitter across your collar bones and your slightly-smeared makeup. this was filmed the night of your party. it must’ve been after it, given your disheveled appearance. he couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful you looked.

finally, he opened the video, your beautiful voice filling the room. spencer closed his eyes, trying to listen to the words you were singing.

“i told myself, don't get attached, but in my mind, i play it back, spinning faster than the plane that took you.”

spencer gasped, realizing the similarities to his situation. oh my god oh my god oh my god.

“and this is when the feeling sinks in, i don’t wanna miss you like this. come back, be here. come back, here.”

this song was for him.

read about how popstar!reader and spencer met here <3

[ageofstarkey]

Hi! Could you write a Mattheo one, where it’s that time of the month, and you’re just really not feeling like facing the world.

poor thing ✰ m. riddle

summary: you’re on your period, and matthéo’s there to help you feel less awful.

pairing: bf!matthéo x reader

warnings: reader is implied to be afab, mentions of reader having their period, discussion of period-related symptoms, nothing else really???

note: hello!! thank you so much for the request!! i’m still trying to find my groove with writing, but i hope i did your prompt some justice :’) also pretend that boys can in fact enter the girls dorms in this universe lmfao

masterlist

comments & reblogs are so appreciated!

✰ ✰ ✰

“aren’t you getting up for potions?”

when you roll over, you see pansy watching you from the doorway. she’s dressed and ready for the day - book bag slung carefully across her body. she studies you with something akin to concern; awaiting your response with perfect, furrowed brows.

with a quiet sigh, you push yourself into a half-sitting position. “i don’t think so. i got my period last night and i feel absolutely horrid.”

“want me to tell riddle? i’m sure he’s looking for an excuse to skip anyway”

you roll your eyes fondly. “he’s already missed too many lessons this year - let him figure it out on his own time, yeah?”

pansy shrugs. “fine. hope you feel better.”

you groan, flopping none-too-gracefully back on your pillow. “me too.”

when pansy leaves, you take a few moments to savour the silence. it does little to ease the uncomfortable ache in your abdomen, but it’s quiet enough that you can almost pretend your head hasn’t been throbbing since the second you opened your eyes.

eventually, you snuggle back under your thick quilt, resigned to sleeping away your misery. it doesn’t take long for your fatigue to take over, pushing you steadily towards the edge of unconsciousness.

you’re nearly asleep, when you hear a sharp knock at the dormitory door. your brows tug downwards in confusion. with a quiet groan, you drag yourself out of bed. the floors are shockingly cold against your bare feet, and you curse quietly under your breath as you approach the door.

when you tug it open, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriends handsome face. although he should be in class, you can hardly fight the grin that tugs at your lips. “you are not supposed to be here.”

matthéo quirks an eyebrow, sporting a smirk you know all too well. “shall i see myself out then?”

you roll your eyes fondly. “no.”

“didn’t think so.” he lets himself in, kicking the door shut behind him. “do you wanna lay down?”

“merlin - more than anything.”

he tugs you gently towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss. “i figured as much.” he murmurs the words against your skin, punctuating them with another kiss. when he pulls away, he nudges you gently towards the bed. “how are you feeling?”

“awful.”

“cramps?” he shrugs off a few layers of clothing, before tugging back your quilt and laying on the bed.

with a gentle little tug, you’re falling into the empty space beside him. “my entire body just… aches.” with a defeated sigh, you drop your head on his chest.

matthéo hums softly, stroking a gentle hand up and down the length of your spine. “poor thing.”

“tell me about it.”

with a quiet little laugh, he tilts your head up towards his own. “do you think you’ll survive?”

“i really might not, théo. this might be it for me.”

matthéo rolls his eyes, but he wears a fond little smile that gives him away. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i am not!” your lips turn downwards in an involuntary pout. “it hurts.”

“i know, sweetheart.” he closes the small gap between you, kissing away your feeble little frown. “why don’t you try and get some rest, hm?”

“you’ll stay?”

he kisses you again - longer this time, and you swear you’re feeling better already. “‘m not going anywhere.”

[soobnny]

ex!seungmin who thinks about you when he receives his diploma during his graduation in law school because he couldn’t have done it without you, and it breaks his heart that while he’d reached his dreams, you couldn’t be there to see him make it.

he’d remember the countless sleepless nights you’d stayed up with him to review for his tests

or when you’d urge him to get some rest or eat his meals when he’d forget sometimes

you were there to help him realize he could do it, coming with him to apply for numerous universities

you were there from the beginning, so why couldn’t you be there to see him reach the end?

and it was a mutual decision—the breakup. but he finds that, as he reaps the rewards of his efforts, it doesn’t feel right that you aren’t in the crowd

that night, seungmin ponders over whether to call you or not

instead, he sends a few text messages

he doesn’t think he could talk to you without crying, doesn’t think he’s ready to hear your voice again

seungmin (9:57pm): i graduated today haha

seungmin (9:58pm): i just wanted to say thank you. i know that things are over between us, but it’s undeniable the influence you had on me while i was in law school. i don’t know if i’d be able to make it this far if you hadn’t believed in me the way you did. thank you. i can’t say it enough.

seungmin (10:01pm): there’s so much i want to tell you, but i guess i don’t really have the right to do that anymore. still, i hope you realize how much you’ve changed the way i looked at life (for the better, i can hear you complaining already)

seungmin (10:03pm): oh, and i found this letter i’d written back when i was still in my 1st year. it’s addressed to you, and i vividly remember telling myself to give it to you on the day i graduate. haha, somehow i’d thought we’d still be together when today would come. lmk if you still want it or if it’s too awkward then that’s okay too

seungmin (10:06pm): alright that’s it. sorry if these messages freaked you out a little. i’m not even sure this is still your number

seungmin (10:07pm): thanks again, (name). you are the one person who made me believe i could make it and i did :) thank you

[lovebugism]

how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy

a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch. 

Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar. 

Speaking of sweet…

His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.

Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.

He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.

“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.

Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”

“Did you sleep good?” 

“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”

“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”

Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”

Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”

“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”

He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”

“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”

“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.

“Get out of the kitchen!”

“What’d I do?”

“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”

“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”

You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.

The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”

Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”

Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”

“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”

“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”

“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.

“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”

Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.

“You’re welcome…”

Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.

“It’s different!”

The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.

“That’s not true!”

“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”

“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.

“Eddie,” you scold quietly.

The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.

“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”

Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now. 

“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”

“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”

“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”

You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.

The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.

“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.

You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”

“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”

“Eddie.”

[satoruhour]

a/n: jjk 236 spoilers, mentions of suicide from reader’s side, no comfort, cry. around 1.4k. tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @saiki-enthusiast @arminsumi @shotorus @satohruu so yall can suffer w me

the first signs of grief manifests in you when there’s a bright light that signifies gojo’s disperse of cursed energy, the familiar hollow purple that obliterates half the buildings around the two strongest sorcerers — one from the heian and the other one from our times. surely, your lover wouldn’t do something as foolish as involving himself with the blast, but gojo satoru is always one to take risks.

when he took up the job of taking care of megumi and tsumiki at just eighteen years old and providing all the things they needed to fluorish. gojo is risky as he convinces a kid with a terrifying curse to make some friends and learn about cursed energy. he sometimes puts himself in danger when he takes up more missions he can shoulder just to show the higher-ups that he can kill them any time.

gojo satoru has the world of jujutsu in his hands; how his birth had changed the trajectory of the society, altered the balance of the world and now—

“satoru!” you call out once the smoke clears and he’s still there, intact, smiling a sick smile like the many times you’ve seen him done at megumi and after burning french toast. you brief a sigh of relief and the pounding of your heart calms down momentarily before sukuna emerges and he’s missing a hand and a leg and your heart pulls lower and lower seeing the kid you raised be such a ragdoll for sukuna’s entertainment. but there was always the hope to isolate the king of curses’ soul and save megumi somehow. shoko and you had discussed it, you know it to be true, it has to be true, until there’s a sharp noise that cuts through your ear drums.

it’s high-pitched, like a flash of light that shines in your eyes too abruptly and you have to cover them. but it blinds you as much as it deafens; an attack from god knows which end and you swear you hear the reaper’s scythe.

gojo thinks you look beautiful like this; hand on your cheek and head in your hand as you watch him and the melodic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board. you’re so concerned about him cutting his hand again that you’ve dragged your chair all the way into the kitchen to watch him closely, which was counterintuitive; the whole reason why he had bled in the first place was because he was looking at you so much.

he admires the way you curl into yourself on the beanbag in the apartment, a book on your lap on how to get to know your teenager better, hair falling over your eyes and the reading lamp not even helping that much in illuminating the words. gojo skims over your features and the way your chest breathes slowly, like everything good in the world. he hopes he’s able to get that with you in this life, for as long as he lives.

you feel it before you see it in the screens that the fight is broadcasted from — something is missing. a light has switched off, satoru has stolen the blanket at night and left you freezing again, seeing your favourite snack missing from the fridge. and you run. past the students you’ve raised, past the bright blinding screens and into the battlefield, past the debris and each crunch of cement under your feet brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes. the tokyo winter is cool, snow starting to slowly fall upon you and the saltiness on your face seem to crystallise and harden and you’re not even sure any more. there’s a tingling feeling in your feet, in your finger tips and a pull of your heart. you know where gojo is before you see him.

“s— satoru…” you mumble, eyes welling up with more tears when his bottom half stays standing, baggy pants stained with red, red and more red and you’ve never hated a colour like you do now. you hate it, you hate it, you hate it even when he’s proposed to you with a red velvet box and gotten you valentine’s day chocolates in that same darker red and there is just too much blood.

and then it’s like the hierarchy of grief doesn’t matter any more. all those articles you’ve read preparing yourself after gojo’s fated meeting with death at sixteen, and then after shibuya — you think you can’t handle any more of the collecting and patching up and crying and headaches and holding a finger up to your chest and hoping you’d kill yourself with your own technique. the only time you’d accept the absence of the bright blue on his face is when he was sleeping and his chest moved with even breaths, not like this.

not like this. 

“satoru—” your voice cracks and you cannot even see. tears and tears and mucus and the fresh crunch of snow under your feet as you step closer to his severed body.

“baby…” he mumbles, barely above a whisper, hand twitching and reaching out in the direction of your voice because this is infinitely worse than getting stabbed in the neck by toji fushiguro, perhaps a little worse than seeing your best friend of your high school life get manipulated by a cursed user. satoru wants to demote all of that and say that seeing you stumble to your knees in front of him while you hyperventilate and sob hurts the most. 

“d-don’t move, ’toru, we— we’re going to get you b-back, okay?” you’re playing with god now. “shoko!” the doctor stifles a sob at your cry, broken up by the feedback of the sound system. she knows you’re trying to defy god.

“i don’t think—” the light is slowly dying. the world’s light, the student’s light, your dawn and dusk. “m-my love, everything is…”

“satoru, please, you need to—!” they say the last sense to go is touch and hearing. you crouch to his face to see him react to your warmth, eyes moving an inch to where he thinks you were and puts all of his cursed energy into one hand just so he could hold your cheek. you, warm as always as the sun and everything good in the world, a new rush of warmth overtaking his hand when your tears flow over his battered, tired hands, the same hands that has drawn over his love time and time again over your body and you are a canvas made of gojo satoru’s endless, unconditional ardour.

“i-i’m…” it fades out, his voice box is almost gone and you wail again and the snow from below wets your knees. his name is all that leaves your lips and you think if you can’t play god, you can only beg, even if your religion is solely gojo satoru.

“no, no, no no nono, satoru, c’mon, baby, stop it!” you scream in his face, words all mushed together when you feel the breath of life leave his chest, the blues die out in his eyes, “i love you, i love you, darling, i love you—” your lover barely manages to muster a small smile and you scramble all over his chest, clutching at the tattered black t-shirt and his hand that is starting to go cold and he has the energy to mutter out a stupid remark like gojo satoru always does.

“i’m sorry i got y-your favourite outfit stained with red, princess…” satoru whispers and that breaks the dam fully. you sob and groan and cry and wail until your voice is hoarse and you cannot speak any more and gojo wants nothing but to full heal himself again just so he could stop your crying. perhaps hold your face in his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips and embrace you until you couldn’t breathe. perhaps even to tell you he loved you more than anything and everything; more than poems and that foolish line he just had to say at the end and kikufuku and waking up next to you.

but in what world will gojo satoru ever get repose and a normal life? you hope for every other universe to have him be a preschool teacher, or maybe a florist, or even a superstar. but not in this one, no.

the hand that caressed your cheek is replenished again with cursed energy.

satoru gives you three squeezes.

[fluffylino]

ghostface ! hyunjin

little did you know you'd end up bumping into someone unexpected at a halloween party

-suggestive? so flirtatious istg

you weren't this type of person. the type of person in college to actively go seeking out parties and big frat parties. infact thats what you'd probably prefer avoiding. classmates and seniors drinking till they pass out or doing god knows what in bathrooms.

it was scary to be amongst so many people yet deep down you really wished you could experience a party like this. atleast for once in your life.

a recently made friend encouraging you to join her and her group of five friends. you weren't exactly on that level of closeness to go out with them but they genuinely were sweet. you felt like you could trust them. however they weren't as much into halloween as you.

you were wild on the inside. god knows what they'd ever say if they ever found out you found ghostface attractive.

not the killing and gore and all. just the idea of a mask like that. hiding someone's appearance completely.

yet all one could see was their physical figure, mannerisms and...their voice.

"you've never watched scream? the 1996 film?" you questioned, voice raising in pitch as they all shook their heads.

"oh is it that ghostface dude you keep mentioning?"

"technically yeah...imagine bumping into somebody wearing that whole outfit...here..in this place"

you said, getting a little anxious as you saw the classmates dressed up as various characters. some a little too gory and drenched in fake blood.

it was a halloween party afterall.

"I really hope he's there..." another friend chimes in. her cheeks visibly turning red. her and her huge ass crush on this guy.

"hm and if he is? what you gonna do with him" you can't help but tease her. nudging her shoulder and wriggling your eyebrows mischieviously. she laughed nervously.

"shhh what are you saying! dirty dirty!" her eyes widening. internally you questioned the innocence of this poor girl. she wasn't the type to think dirty thoughts.

"you think hyunjin will really be here?"

she whispered, looping her arm around yours. both of yall walking past people and into the house. streamers and decorations all over. lights dimmed down and occasionally flashing. the music louder than expected.

"..hwang? hm i don't know" you mumbled, feeling a bit shaky. guilt setting in slowly.

the thing was...you may have had a teeny weeny crush on him as well. however you pushed it aside when you found out she liked him like crazy. she described it as falling in love with him completely. it was a little too extreme but you simply laughed along. knowing all too well that they had never even spoken once in the previous semester.

hyunjin was a senior by a year or three. watching him from afar in the canteen. heart thumping faster than usual when he glanced your way too many times to be casual.

"he's looking at me, isn't he?" she'd always blush and say, trying to avoid him in all the possible ways.

a little delusion because it took only a few instances for you to figure out that he was...looking at you everytime you either walked to buy some coffee or whenever you'd be laughing and cracking jokes.

but you never know? maybe you just thought he knew your existence.

its only when the music gets louder and more people start coming in do things get overwhelming. grabbing a few shots of soju and downing it quicker than ever.

"we're gonna go there okay?" she slurs, waving goodbye and running off somewhere amidst the crowd with the other three. you hum to yourself, smacking your forehead. beginning to feel the alcohol kick in.

just when you think you should leave, your eyes land upon a mask. worn by someone who looks absolutely sculpted.

no flowy robe to match the creepy mask yet the way his arms looked in a tank top the stranger wore was worth drooling over.

looking away quickly when he turns his head towards you.

"god-...f-fuck he's hot..." you mumble breathlessly to yourself. cheeks burning and body on fire.

trying to steal another glance at the stranger. however he had vanished. was he in the crowd or did he go to the kitchen or backyard or-

"looking for me, honey?"

neck spinning to the side to come face to face with the elongated mouth and downward eyes of the spooky mask. a choked out shout leaving you.

"u-uh i-...i m-mean" you don't even know what you're saying at this point.

its the way he's leaning over you. towering above you.

"sooo you got a boyfriend?"

his voice goes straight to your core. its insane how turned on you are. realising he's playing along. reciting lines from the film.

"why? you wanna ask me out on a date?"

dragging your syllables. its the alcohol thats talking now. growing more confident and comfortable with this supposed stranger.

"maybe..."

the mask tilts comically.

leaning down even lower. that is until he sits on the short table opposite to you. carelessly dropping a few leftover candies on the ground. its a mess anyways.

he moves closer. thick thighs on either side of yours. his elbows resting on his knees as he seems to stare back.

expressions hidden under the damn mask. seeing just a sliver of his eyes under the mesh.

"you're pretty...pretty hot to not have one" muffled behind the mask. you can hear him breathe.

eyes trailing down to his arms unconciously.

"you think i'm hot? even though i'm dressed up as joker?" you chuckle. blushing incredibly hard.

because for some reason this stranger felt familiar. his mannerisms and his physique.

"even hotter, baby"

his voice. you've heard it before. you feel like you know this man's voice. no wonder you were enthralled. why couldn't you pinpoint who it belonged to?

"do i know you?" you sit up quickly. mimicking 'ghostface' who sat infront of you.

moving closer till his body heat engulfed you.

"mh do you?"

he tilts his head, humming condescendingly. goosebumps rising on your skin when his hands carefully rest on your knees.

"cause I definitely know you honey"

again.

your heart races.

unconciously leaning into him.

"you do? i see this little game you're playing" you tease. placing your hands on top of his. he lets you.

"m'not playing any games sweetie"

the man laughs lowly. shoulders shaking and neck arching to look down at you. growing more and more interested.

"yeah? then why don't you show me whose under this mask"

gently placing your index under his chin. his hands resting higher on your thighs now.

"oh i couldn't. that would ruin the fun wouldn't it."

allowing you to play around with the edge of the mask. edging him on mercilessly.

"what if i said i wouldn't mind it staying on"

you whisper, eyes meeting his briefly. arousal pooling in your abdomen.

whoever this was. you knew him for sure.

"while we talk? or did you mean during sex? please do tell, doll"

his voice drops an octave lower and you let your instincts kick in. forcing you to your limits with his teasing.

pushing the mask up just enough to kiss him senselessly.

it takes him by surprise, and you find yourself clinging onto him. his hands sliding higher to hold your waist.

quite literally using his strength to pull you right onto his lap. the low table creaks at the weight of two .

(lord have mercy we must stay focused brothers we MUST STAY FOCUSED AAA sorry i had to lolz)

"f-fuck...who are you..." you whisper, nose brushing against his. he huffs out a breath. choosing to kiss you with more fervour.

your fingers slipping under the mask.

shakily pushing it higher until your heart throbs. but that isn't the only thing throbbing when you see his uncovered face.

hyunjin.

"y-you...hyu-njin" going absolutely speechless as it sets in.

you're kissing hwang hyunjin.

the senior you thought you'd never even have the courage to talk to.

the mild taste of peach soju on his tongue. quietly opening your mouth for him to trail his tongue over your bottom lip.

the dark mesh falling over your face when you let go of the mask to fist at his fluffy hair. you could run your fingers through his hair.

his grip on your thighs strong enough to firmly keep you planted directly over where you could feel him.

getting worked up with how affected you were.

the feeling of his hands, his hair, his hot mouth moving passionately...his covered length....

"your friend. tell her you're with me, baby"

hyunjin pants out, nudging his lips to the corner of your mouth. your eyes widen, heart pounding.

"tell her im kissing you"

it felt like you were committing a sin. but you just couldn't bring yourself to care that much.

"tell her...i don't plan on letting you go home anytime soon"

.

.

.

.

ha ha ha ha ha ha ha surprise!

its a late halloween present but who cares! ghostface hyunjin has made an appearance acjwugsbsjskskshs~

<3333

[probably-writing-x]

Missing Piece.

Summary: can you do conklin!reader x conrad where since she’s the oldest sibling, laurel had so much expectations for her and she held a lot of responsibility to the point where she couldn’t even enjoy being a kid. this is gonna sound sad but let’s say conrad chose belly over her but he was really just confused about what he wants which was reader but since her and belly are so similar, he chose belly and the reader had a big argument that led to her being the bad guy and all the stress caused her to just leave cousins and cut contact with everyone. Flash forward like 2 years ( reader is in college and everyone else is beginning college soon ) reader comes back to cousins and everyone is shocked to see she has a son 😭 it doesn’t have to be conrad’s i was thinking it could be like an ex boyfriends or one night stand’s BUT yeah she comes back with a whole kid and she’s so grown now. ( you can add a lil stepdad conrad if you want 😮‍💨 )

Warnings: Discussions of toxic family relations, mentions of unplanned pregnancy

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this is so long but I took this idea and RAN with it! Hope y’all enjoy plz plz plz let me know what you think

You always knew how your little sister Belly had felt about Conrad when you were all growing up. For as long as you could remember, she’d been head over heels for him. She laughed a little harder at his jokes, remembered a little more about everything he said. She loved him.

You weren’t exactly sure when your feelings for Conrad had started, however. He’d always just been a friend. The boy you spent every summer with as the two of you were responsible for babysitting the rest. He’d always just been Conrad. But lately that had felt like it was changing.

The worst part about it all? You couldn’t even tell him how you felt. For the fear of breaking your little sisters heart was worse than letting your own break right in front of you.

“Are you even listening to me (y/l/n)?” Conrad stretches out a leg to kick you from where he sat on the other end of the couch and you look up from your book to see him.

“Um,” You clear your throat, “No, I didn’t hear a word you said.”

He rolls his eyes at you, “I asked if you were coming to the party tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, I hadn’t thought about it,” You shrug, “Is everyone going?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I haven’t asked everyone. I’ve asked you.”

You smile in return, “Yeah, sure, I’ll come.”

He stretches forward and grabs the book from your hands, “What are you reading?”

“Con!” You exclaim, reaching over his legs to try to grab the book from his hands, “Give it back.”

He laughs and holds it high over his head, away from your reach as you fall forward, hand catching yourself on his chest.

You look up to his eyes and he’s looking down at you with a smirk on his lips.

“Can you please give me my book back?”

“I could,” He returns, the pages still tight between his grip.

“Okay, will you?”

“What’s in it for me?”

There’s something about the way he says the words. Hoarse in his throat, almost catching on his tongue, foreign tone to hear from his lips. You feel the heat increasing in your cheeks and try to ignore it.

“Nothing, just give it back,” You groan, stretching far up enough that your fingertips brush the pages and he eventually releases the book from his grip.

You compose yourself and return to your side of the couch, trying to ignore the deep heat coursing through your cheeks.

“Hey!” Belly’s voice sounds from the doorway as she comes in, “I’m not interrupting am I?”

“No, no, of course not,” Conrad stands up quickly from the couch, “Are you ready to go?”

Belly nods, “Yeah, sure. Are you coming (y/n)?”

You force a small smile in their direction, “I’ll be there in a bit.”

“(Y/n) I really need your help tonight,” Your Mom, Laurel walks into the room in their absence, “We’ve got so much to set up for tomorrow so I’ll need your help with it all.”

You set your book down and look up at her, “Actually I think there’s a party tonight that everyone’s going to so I sort of had plans.”

She brushes you off, busy looking at something on her phone, “Well just cancel your plans.”

“It’s a party, Mom, everyone’s going,” You roll your eyes, “Can’t I just help tomorrow morning?”

“Can you please not make this more difficult than it needs to be?” She shakes her head at you, “You’re eighteen now, aren’t you too old for those kinds of things?”

“Right, yeah, eighteen is the cut off point for having fun,” You stand up from the couch.

“(Y/n) wait!” She calls after you, “I need you to go to-“

“The store, yeah, I just got the list,” You wave your phone in your hand, “(Y/n) Conklin at your service.”

Your relationship with Laurel has never been ideal. You were the oldest of the three of you and so her expectations for you seemed far beyond what she wanted from the others. She was more patient with them, more understanding. You didn’t get that. They got a childhood and you got the responsibility of looking after them. They went to the fair? You had to make sure they all came back in one piece. They went to a party? You had to be the designated driver and make sure neither of them drank too much. Something important going on? They got to be kids whilst you dealt with it like an adult. You grew up too fast and she was to blame for that - her expectations tainting any form of childhood you could’ve held onto.

You step outside and start walking towards your car, pausing when you hear the sound of laughter from the others. Conrad has Belly in his arms, lifting her up from the ground as the other boys try to grab her legs. He’s holding her tight, a bright smile on his face when he looks at her. They’d had that tradition for years. Since you were first coming to Cousins. But you were never a part of it. Because whilst they grabbed Belly and ran her to the pool, you had to help your Mom carry in the luggage and set up everyone’s rooms. Traditions, right?

“(Y/n)!” Jeremiah yells over to you when he catches sight of you, “Are you coming later? We thought we could go to the store and get some drinks before we go.”

He walks over to you and the other boys follow behind.

“Um,” You drag a hand through your hair, glancing at the house, “I can’t come tonight, I’ve got stuff to help my Mom with here.”

“Oh come on, you’re so boring,” Steven groans, “You never come to parties.”

Right, because I’m too busy picking up the slack for you and Belly.

“Yeah, sorry, Laurel’s orders,” You shrug, “Maybe next time.”

“Can you at least stop at the store and use your fake? Thank youuuuu,” Steven yells back as he heads back towards the pool.

You roll your eyes, forcing a smile to the Fisher brothers, “I’ll see you guys later.”

Conrad frowns a little at you, “You sure you’re not coming?”

You shrug your shoulders, “I’ll be designated driver, you can just call me when you need picking up.”

He smiles faintly and watches as you head towards your car, your shoulders dropping as you let out a sigh. Laurel’s orders.

———

You spend the night helping your Mom and Susannah set up for their charity event before you eventually get a text from Steven asking you to come get them.

You drive across the town to the other end and pull up in front of the house, texting them to say you’re outside.

Only Jeremiah and Steven step out though.

“Thanks for coming,” Jere smiles, sitting in the back seat, “You’re a lifesaver.”

You frown at the two of them, “Where’s the rest?”

Steven laughs, “Don’t get us started.”

“What’s going on?” You ask, glancing back in the mirror to catch Jeremiah’s face, watching as his jaw clenches.

“Conrad and Belly disappeared together,” Steven explains, “They were all over each other, and then the next minute we couldn’t find either of them.”

“So-“ You clear your throat, words seemingly catching on your tongue, “So you don’t know where they are?”

“They’re together, they’re fine,” Steven shrugs, “But god I’m dreading hearing that story tomorrow.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and lock eyes with Jeremiah who just shrugs his shoulders at you. He was your counterpart in this. Him in love with Belly despite his brother. You in love with Conrad despite your sister.

“Can we go?” Steven nudges you, “I’m starving.”

The three of you drive back in relative silence apart from Steven hiccuping every five seconds, until you reach the house and you pull up on the driveway. You make sure to shut the door quietly behind you so that Laurel wouldn’t complain in the morning and the two boys disappear into the kitchen.

“(Y/n) can I eat some of your-“ Steven calls out loudly.

You stick your head around the doorframe of the kitchen and shush him, whispering back, “Eat whatever you want as long as it’s not the food for tomorrow.”

He salutes in your direction and you roll your eyes, walking through into the lounge and collapsing down onto one of the couches. Your Mom would kill you if Belly didn’t come home tonight, and especially if you didn’t have any clue where she was.

So whilst the boys eat and reside to their bedrooms, you wait.

-

It’s around three am when you hear the door open again and two hushed voices coming through into the silent house.

“Is everyone asleep?” You hear Belly whisper and you glance up from the couch.

That’s when you see it. His hand intertwined with hers, his flannel shirt around her shoulders, both of their eyes alight.

“I think so,” Conrad hisses in return as the two of them walk towards the stairs.

She steps up ahead of him but he pauses on the bottom step, glancing into the lounge where his eyes lock with yours. You don’t look away and neither does he, so you watch as he swallows the lump in his throat, his hand dropping from its grip on Belly’s.

You look away then, turning over on the couch so that your back faces them. It’s such a quick response isn’t it? Five seconds and now your throat feels like it can’t breathe air, and your eyes are pricked with tears threatening to spill. You let out a shaky breath and grip firmly onto the cushion beneath your head, your chest feeling tighter and tighter.

———

The following morning you wake up to the sound of voices in the kitchen and you groan at the sudden realisation of how uncomfortable the couch really is.

When you walk through, it’s your brother and sister.

“She’s alive!” Steven laughs, “What happened to you last night?”

You drag a hand over your face, “I-“ Your eyes shift to Belly who’s stood with the faintest smile over her face as she sips her coffee, the look of a girl in love, “I was going to stay awake to make sure Belly got back safe but I must’ve… I don’t know, I must’ve fallen asleep before she got back.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, we were pretty late,” She clears her throat, “I mean, I was- we weren’t-“

“Come on Bels everyone saw you and Conrad together,” Steven scoffs, “You didn’t exactly make it discrete.”

“Well, I-“ Belly laughs a little, “We just-“

“I don’t think I want to hear this,” Steven groans, “Please spare me the details.”

He takes a cup of coffee from the counter and walks out, his shoulders hanging low.

You take a deep breath and turn back to your sister, pausing for a second. Something about her seems so different - like she’s a whole new person. One piece of her life fallen into place and she was… happy. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“So, you and Conrad,” You mention, your back turned to her as you pull out a pancake mix from the cupboard.

“I don’t even know how it happened,” She shakes her head, “I mean, you all know I’ve had a crush on him since I could remember and then he told me he wanted us to be together and I-“

“He wants you to be together?” You half-choke out the words, your hands feeling weak, your heart numb.

“That’s what he said,” She nods, “We still need to talk about things but yesterday seemed pretty official.”

You blink a couple of times and take a deep breath, pulling your shoulders back a little, “That’s great, Bels, I’m happy for you.”

Before you can say anything more, Conrad walks through into the kitchen, pausing when he sees the two of you.

“Oh, um, morning,” He offers a small smile, letting out a breath.

You nod in greeting, “I’m going to leave you two to it.”

“(Y/n)…” Conrad speaks quietly as you go to leave, his hand reaching out towards you.

You look up at him and there’s a shift in his eyes, a difference in the way he looks at you. Like he knows everything and nothing about what he’s done.

“Never mind,” He shakes his head.

And you’re gone.

———

You don’t see them for the rest of the day. In fact, you don’t see anyone. You go down to the beach at some point in the afternoon and swim in the flat waves and return to the house hours later with damp hair. Your Mom makes a comment about how you need to look presentable for this evening.

You’ve showered and are sat on your bed wrapped in a baggy hoodie and shorts straightening your hair when there’s a knock on your door.

“(Y/n) can I come in?”

It’s Jeremiah.

“Yeah, of course,” You shift on your seat and he steps inside.

“I just wanted to see how you were,” He perches himself on the edge of the bed, looking at you through the mirror.

“I’m okay, this event should be good,” You lie through a smile, fixing the hair around your face.

“(Y/n)…” He frowns at you, “You don’t have to lie.”

“Wh-“

“He broke your heart,” He confirms for you, “And she broke mine.”

You laugh a little, “Well that makes us sound sad, Jere.”

He smiles gently, softly, “It’s okay for you to be upset about it. You don’t have to put on that facade like you normally do.”

“I just-“ You shake your head, “I can’t be upset. I’m happy for Belly, she’s loved him since forever.”

“(Y/n),” Jeremiah waits until you turn around to face him, “You’ve spent your life being happy for Belly, it’s okay for you to let yourself once wish that you were happy for you.”

You look down at the ground and back up, shaking your head a little as tears pool at your eyes, “I just really thought it would be me.”

Instantly, Jere jumps from the bed and hurries over to you, engulfing you in his arms as you bury your head into his chest.

“I did too,” He mumbles as he runs a hand up and down your back.

“God, I’m so stupid,” You laugh, dragging your hands under your eyes, “I need to stop this before tonight.”

He pulls back and holds both of your shoulders, “You’re going to get dressed into your best dress, and you’re going to look beautiful, and we’re going to drink, and drink some more, and we’re both going to forget all about last night. How does that sound?”

You nod your head, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Jeremiah grins, “Now cheer up before you make me cry too.”

You laugh softly, watching him disappear before you let out a shaky breath, turning back to yourself in the mirror and setting your shoulders back to fix your posture.

You could do this.

———

By the time you come downstairs, the house is flooded with people all in attendance for the event. The garden doors are open and people have spilled outside, all mingling between each other as Susannah goes around to greet everyone that she can.

You take a glass of champagne from the tray in the kitchen and tip it back until the liquid empties down your throat, and you grimace a little at the taste.

“Woah, take it easy Conklin,” Steven raises his brows at you as you refill your glass, “You never drink.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a party isn’t it?” You shrug your shoulders, tipping back another glass.

“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Steven laughs.

You go to respond but your eyes fall on the pair just across the room. The girl’s fingers fixing the bow tie around the boy’s neck, her hands settling onto his chest soon after, a smile on her face. Belly and Conrad.

“They seem pretty-“

“Yeah, I know,” You respond quickly, “Made for each other.”

“I was going to say full-on,” Steven grimaces, “It’s weird.”

You shrug, “Maybe they’re happy.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and try to ignore the tightening in your chest, sure that you could leave at that sight alone.

How could you do this? How could you be normal with them when it was like this? How could you spend every day with them?

“I can’t be here,” You shake your head, “I need some air.”

You grab a bottle of tequila from the liquor display and take it with you outside, sipping from it before you’ve even got to the garden.

It’s colder as the sun is already setting but another sip of tequila seems to take the edge off just a little, and its already going to your head.

You start making your way around the perimeter of the pool, your steps a little off balance as you teeter across the edge.

“(Y/n)?” Belly’s voice calls from the doorway of the house, “What are you doing out here?”

Your foot spins you to face her and you catch sight of her at the door, a black jacket wrapped around her shoulders. The sight makes your heart sink into your stomach, churning your insides.

“Come on, Mom wants you to mingle wit-“

“I don’t care what Mom wants,” You reply harshly, swigging back the tequila once again.

“Wh- what are you talking about?”

“I’ve done my bit, okay? I’ve done more than my bit. She can leave me alone for one night,” You roll your eyes, “Just one fucking night.”

“What’s going on with you (y/n)? This isn’t like you,” She wraps her arms around herself, the jacket tightening across her shoulders.

“Is that… is that his jacket?”

The rational part of you is unsure as to why you even ask it. But the tequila is almost a third gone now, and you’re not sure the rational is what’s in control anymore.

“We- yeah, he gave it to me to come outside,” Belly confirms, “What’s that got to do with-“

“Did you know I liked him?” You interrupt.

“(Y/n) what-“

“Answer the question,” Your words are harsh, too harsh probably, “When you kissed him last night, when he told you he wanted to be with you, did you know that I liked him?”

“Come on, you know how I’ve felt about Conrad, how I feel about him,” Belly shakes her head, “This isn’t ab-“

“About me? Right, of course it’s not,” You scoff, stepping towards her, “Because god forbid things don’t work out the way Belly wants them to, right? God forbid we’re not all making sure that you’re happy and that things are going your way. God forbid anyone else get a fucking happy ending!”

You know you’re raising your voice, you can tell from the way she flinches as you speak. But that doesn’t seem to matter anymore either.

“You wanted him and so you got him. And me and Jere? We don’t matter, do we? We’re just thrown to the curb so that you can be fucking happy,” You half laugh, “I gave up everything for you, Belly. For you and for Steven, I gave up my whole fucking childhood. I couldn’t be a child because you two needed to be them instead. So I grew up, I stopped going out so I could do chores for Mom, chores that you missed because you were too busy with Taylor or at volleyball or failing your fucking classes. I did it all! I gave up everything. And the one thing it felt like I had was… him.”

You choke out the last word and feel the tears prick at your eyes.

“Conrad was the only one that understood, the only one who knew what it was like to feel responsible for your asses,” You scoff, “And… I gave that up too.”

“You didn’t give him up, (y/n), Conrad chose to be with me!” Belly defends, her voice breaking.

By now, the small crowd in the garden has started to increase to hear what was going on, people slowly starting to trail out of the door until you see the familiar faces.

“Girls, can we try doing this somewhere else?” Susannah steps outside, trying to smile for the guests gathering around.

“(Y/n)!” Laurel hisses, hurrying down to where the two of you stood, “Can you control yourself please? There are guests here!”

You look at her and let out a scoff, “My fault, of course.”

“You should know better,” She mutters to you, faking a polite smile for the people watching.

“Yeah, maybe I should, Mom,” You nod, fighting back your tears, “Excuse me.”

You step away from her and Belly and push your way across the garden, towards the side of the house, past the outdoor shower.

“(Y/n)!” Conrad’s voice approaches from behind you.

You keep walking in your direction, refusing to be interrupted until you feel the grip of his arm around your wrist, turning you around.

“Get off me, Conrad,” You pull away from him but his grip remains.

“Talk to me (Y/n)!” He exclaims, “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”

“Tell you what’s going on?” You laugh, “Like you don’t fucking know!”

“l do- What do you want me to say?” He looks frantically between your eyes, dropping his hand from your arm.

“I want you to tell me that it’s Belly you want,” You snap, “I want you to tell me that you feel the same way about her as she feels about you.”

“It’s- I mean… it’s complicated.”

“It fucking shouldn’t be!” You yell back, “You chose her, you should know how you feel about her.”

“Chose her? What… you…”

“Yeah, you fucking chose her!” You push his chest, “I was right fucking here Conrad! I was right here! I’ve always been here,” Your voice cracks and tears spill over your cheeks.

Conrad holds your hands over his chest, like he wants to hold onto a piece of you, “(Y/n) I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know,” You step back, sniffing, “Of course you didn’t.”

“(Y/n)…” His voice trails off as he sees you, the broken version of you that he seemed to cause.

“It’s always been her, hasn’t it? She was Laurel’s favourite daughter, she was the more popular one at school, she’s Susannah’s favourite, she’s… she’s yours. And I was there to just… drive her home, cook her dinner, let her cry, buy her shit to make her feel better. I was just… there.”

He doesn’t speak, watching the way you seem to shrink into yourself at the words.

“I’m never going to be good enough, am I? For Laurel, for this family… for you?”

“(Y/n) please…”

“I’m sorry, I just… I need to…” You clear your throat, dragging a hand through your hair before you hurry inside.

———

You don’t get much sleep that night, instead running over a thousand options in your head before settling on the only one that makes any sense - that you need to go.

By five, you’ve packed up your things into a bag, checked over everything twice to make sure nothing was left behind, and grabbed your keys to head downstairs. The house is silent, and littered with the fancy aftermath of the party. You glance behind you once more and step outside, fleeing towards your car.

“(Y/n)!” Even the sound of your name rings through a trauma from the night before.

You turn around against the bright morning light to see Conrad jogging towards you.

“What are you doing?” He asks you, a frown on his face.

“I’m…” You clear your throat, “I’m just heading out.”

He looks down at the bag in your hand and his shoulders drop, “You’re leaving.”

You take a deep breath, “I… I have to Con.”

“(Y/n) please,” He reaches forward and takes one of your hands into his, “I need you to know, I- I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted that.”

You pull your hand from his grip and cup the side of his face, your thumb brushing his cheek, “Con, I know you didn’t. But, I can’t stay here like this. I can’t be here. Okay?”

He looks away from you momentarily and back up to your eyes, his seemingly losing their hope.

You brush away the strands of hair around his forehead, “I’ll see you around, Fisher.”

—— 2 Years Later ——

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Carmen asks you, perched on the edge of your bed, “I mean, seriously, how long has it been?”

“Two years,” You confirm, folding up another top to put into your bag, “And I think it’s a terrible idea, but I’ve got to bite the bullet eventually.”

“How do you think they’re going to react?” He persists, “Do you think they’ll be mad?”

“Um,” You take a deep breath, “Maybe. I think it’ll be a shock more than anything. I just, I want them to see me, you know? And, look, Jere never did anything wrong. He’s reached out to be a thousand times and I want to be there for him today - that’s all I care about.”

“And who can be mad at a little face like this?” Carmen looks down at the small bundle wrapped in his crib, peacefully asleep for now.

Your son had been born two months ago. You and Carmen had been dating through your first year of college before you fell pregnant. You’d split up only a few weeks before you found out you were expecting, but the two of you had managed to successfully co-parent so far. He came to all of your appointments, asked far too many questions, slept on the spare room in your dorm when he was worried about you, and had held your hand all through the delivery. Since then, you’d managed to both fit your schedules around taking care of your baby. He worked weekends and you worked evenings, he stayed in your dorm when he knew you needed to sleep and you both avoided a fair bit of socialising so that you could be there for your son. It worked. And, more than anything, you were the happiest you’d been.

“Alright little man, be good for Mommy okay?” Carmen lifts up your son, Kylo, from his bed, “I’ll see you soon.”

He sets the baby into his car seat and fixes the straps around his chest.

“I’ll help you get him in the car,” Carmen encourages, following behind you as the two of you leave the dorm and head down towards the parking lot.

He fixes the car seat into its slot in the car, checking it twice before he steps back.

“Alright, I’ll let you know if it’s a disaster and I’ll be driving back tonight,” You laugh a little, “And if you get an SOS text from me please put your foot down and get there as soon as you can.”

Carmen chuckles, squeezing your arm, “It’s going to be fine, okay? They love you and they miss you.”

You nod, “Let’s hope so.”

“Drive safe,” He steps back, letting you get into the drivers seat.

“Wish me luck,” You smile, waving goodbye as you reverse out of the parking spot.

It had been two years since you’d seen the Fishers, and even your own family. You’d left that day at the beach house and not returned. There were countless calls from your Mom, and Steven, and Susannah and Jere. But nothing from Conrad and Belly. You’d moved your things out of your home shortly after and moved into college as early as you could. It has been good for you.

The first big milestone was when you didn’t go home for thanksgiving. All of the family would be at Cousins and you told your Mom you couldn’t make it. The same again at Christmas. Eventually, a few months after, Laurel had stopped trying. She knew you needed your space, as much as she resented you for it. You’d kept in touch with Steven, and Jeremiah still spoke to you as much as he could. But none of them knew about Kylo. You weren’t ready for that yet. This was your son, you’d done it without them then and you could still do it without them. But he deserved to have them in his life. So, when Jeremiah had invited you to his graduation, you’d agreed.

It couldn’t be as bad as it was two years ago, right?

———

As soon as you arrive in Cousins, you stop at the hotel room that you’d booked for the two of you. Sure, you were okay with being here, but that didn’t mean you wanted to stay at the house.

You shoot Jeremiah a text to tell him you’re near and he tells you he’ll be waiting outside. You text Carmen to tell him you’re already considering turning back.

There was just something so strange about seeing these streets again, these houses, these places that held so many memories. And, as you near the water, the house that held more memories for you than anywhere in the world.

True to his word, as you pull up into the driveway, Jeremiah is waiting on the steps for you.

He hurries straight over to the car before you’ve even stepped out.

“Oh my god it’s so good to see you!” He grins, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“You too Jere, I’ve missed you,” You squeeze him in return, “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Wh-“ His face drops a little when he catches sight of the seats in the back of your car, “Why do you have a-“

“Um, yeah,” You laugh a little, “I might’ve forgot to mention I was bringing a plus one.”

You open the side door to the back seats and unclamp the car seat from the chair, lifting it out.

“Jere, this is Kylo,” You let out a shaky breath, “My son.”

Jeremiah’s face drops, dumbfounded, “Oh m- I mean I- Congratulations! He looks exactly like you.”

You chuckle, “I’m sorry I didn’t mention him, I just didn’t know how to say it over a text.”

Jeremiah shakes his head, “Don’t apologise. Come on, nobody’s home, you can come inside.”

He takes your baby bag from you as you carry Kylo into the empty house, a flood of memories hitting you as you do. Nothing had changed here and yet everything had changed with you.

“Do you feel like you’re ready to see everyone?” Jeremiah asks, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“Not in the slightest,” You shake your head, “But I can’t wait any longer.”

“You’re right,” Jeremiah nods, “From what I’ve heard, they’re all just ready for you to come home.”

You smile, lifting Kylo out of his seat, “I’m ready for him to have a family too.”

Jeremiah wraps an arm around your shoulder and squeezes.

“Oh shit, I think that might be their-“ He stops himself, “Yeah, that’s them. Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath and shift your position on the couch, “I’m okay.”

You were far from it. You were sure your mind was racing a million miles a minute, and every muscle in your body was tense. You were sure Kylo could feel it too, whinging in your arms. Part of you wanted to run, but you’d done enough of that two years ago. Not anymore.

“Hey, Jere, who the hell is parked in the-“ It’s Steven’s voice first, “Oh my fucking god!”

He runs into the lounge and freezes instantly, his eyes widening, his mouth agape.

“Hey Steven,” You smile, standing up from the couch.

“You- uh- you…”

Your Mom, Belly and Susannah walk in shortly after, all of them stopping just as your brother had.

“(Y/n)…” Belly looks at you like you’re a piece she’s been missing, “It’s so good to see you.”

“Is this…” Laurel looks down at the boy in your arms.

“This is Kylo, my son,” You look up at her, “Your grandson.”

Her face both lifts and falls at the same time, unsure of what to say.

“Can I?” Laurel asks you, looking down at him, and back to you.

“Of course,” You hand him over, fixing his head into her arms.

Laurel gasps at the contact, smiling gently down at the boy as her eyes fill with tears.

“I’m-“ You clear your throat, no apologies, “I know it’s been a while. But a lot has changed, and I want you to be a part of his life. I want him to have his family.”

Belly steps forward and stretches her arms out to you, stepping once more to engulf you in her arms, her head burying on your shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” She whispers, sobbing a little into your neck as she tightens her grip.

You smile and hug her just as tightly back, “Me too. I’ve missed you.”

“Alright alright don’t leave me out,” Steven groans, squashing both of you in a hug of his own, towering taller than both of you now.

Belly pulls back and sniffs and you lift your hands to her cheeks, wiping her eyes.

“We’re okay, okay?” You nod at her, the same phrase you used to tell her when the two of you ever argued as kids.

Belly nods, squeezing your hands, “Okay.”

“Oh honey,” Laurel passes Kylo to Susannah who takes him with a bright smile, before your Mom turns to you, “I don’t even know what to say. I had no idea that you… I mean I didn’t even… I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

You shake your head, “It was me too. We both needed the space, right? We all did.”

She shakes her head too, “I’m just so sorry, I should’ve been there.”

You smile, “You’re here now.”

She steps forward and hugs you too, feeling so much smaller against you than she ever did before, perhaps you just feeling taller.

“You’re a Mom,” Her voice breaks against you, “I’m a Grandma.”

You chuckle and step back from her, “So much to catch you up on.”

Susannah hands Kylo over to Belly as he gets passed around to the waiting arms and she wraps you in a hug of your own, whispering something about how this family had missed you and it hadn’t been the same without you there.

But there was still one piece missing.

You sit down on the couch and Laurel and Susannah sit on either side of you. Belly, Jere and Steven all sit on the coffee table across from you as if they can’t possibly be too far away from you.

“I can’t believe you’re back in Cousins,” Belly smiles, “This is surreal.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, it’s weird. I just couldn’t miss watching Jere graduate.”

He grins, “I’m just glad you accepted the offer.”

Belly passes Kylo over to Steven who holds him as if he’s the most fragile object in the world.

You laugh a little at the sight, pulling out your phone and snapping a photo of the pair. You’d send it to Carmen later - a little sign of ‘hey, my family haven’t completely disowned me’.

“Okay, I have to ask the questions,” Laurel squeezes your arm, “How did this happen?”

“Well, Kylo was born about two months ago. I was dating a boy called Carmen in my first year of college, possibly the nicest guy ever but we realised we were better as friends. And a bit later I found out I was pregnant. He was there the whole time, don’t worry, and we’re surprisingly really good at co-parenting,” You explain, “I know it’s not conventional but, god, I think I was made to be a Mom.”

Steven laughs, “Yeah you got that from raising us three idiots,” He glances to Jere and Belly.

You grin. You’d never considered that when you were growing up. That mothering those three, losing so much of your childhood. It was setting you up for this. For mothering your own child, for bringing him up in your own way.

“He’s a pretty chill baby too,” You comment, “Like sleeps through the night, only wakes up once for a bottle. He even sits into some of my classes.”

“You’re still carrying on with college?” Laurel looks at you slightly shocked.

“Of course, I’ll just graduate with a toddler on my hip,” You beam down at your son in Steven’s arms, “I don’t need to lose my life because I’m taking care of him.”

Laurel looks at you with tears in her eyes before dropping her head to rest on your shoulder, like she’s trying to keep as close to you as she can. You don’t tense under her touch.

———

Later in the day, Jere, Belly and Steven have gone to the store for supplies and Susannah is setting up some bits for Jere’s graduation.

“Hey, do you need any help with anything?” You ask Laurel as she walks into the kitchen, “Kylo’s just had his bottle so I’m free if you need me to help.”

He’s strapped in a wrap to your chest napping against you.

“Oh god no you relax, we don’t need you to help,” Laurel encourages, “Sit down or something.”

“Come on Mom, I can help. What do you want me to do?”

She looks at you and sighs, “I think I spent 18 years asking you to do far too much, maybe I need to be making up for that.”

You clear your throat, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“I know, I know it’s not,” She shakes her head, “I just… I don’t even feel like you’re my daughter anymore. You’re so grown up, it’s like… you’re too much of an adult to be mine.”

You nod, “Yeah, well, a lot changed.”

“I hate that things got to the point where you felt you had to leave. I mean, I know everything happened with Belly and Conrad but I was just as much to blame, wasn’t I?”

You run your hand over the wrap across your chest where Kylo lay, “I never got a chance to be a kid, Mom. Not properly. It felt like my whole life Id been running one step ahead of them all so that I could catch them before they fell, shaping my whole life around making sure that they were in line and okay and that I was doing enough for you and for them but also making sure my whole life was perfect so that you weren’t disappointed and… it was draining.”

Laurel looks at you with a pained expression, her shoulders dropping with the weight of realisation.

“I went to college to get away from every shitty feeling that all of that gave me. I got away to finally be my own person, for once in my life just think about me,” You smile, “And it was good for me. I healed. I went to a therapist, I cried, I figured out my shit. I’m a different person now but I’ll always be your daughter. And I want Kylo to have his grandma.”

“I want that too,” Laurel beams, “(Y/n) I… I know I never know how to say these things but I’m so proud of you, honestly.”

Before you can respond, the front door clicks open and your head whips around quickly, expectant of who could be walking through.

“He’s at work,” Laurel comforts you, “He’ll be back tonight.”

“I-“

“I’m still your Mom, I know these things.”

You laugh in response as the other three all come into the kitchen, carrying bags of groceries.

“Oooh here Kylo I got you a present,” Steven rummages through the bags to find what he was looking for and eventually pulls out a small brown teddy bear, “Just securing my spot as favourite uncle.”

You grin, taking the bear, “Thank you Uncle Steven.”

“Oooh, we’ve got the beer in the trunk,” Jeremiah reminds him.

“Shit, yeah, we’ll be right back!” Steven says and both of them hurry back out.

“Beer?” You raise your brows at Belly.

She laughs, looking down at the bags, “Yeah, Steven managed to get a fake.”

“Of course he did,” You shake your head, “Want some help unpacking?”

“No, no, I got it,” She encourages, “You’ve got your hands full.”

You wiggle both of your hands in front of her, “The perks of this thing is that both of my hands are free, Bels. Don’t tread on eggshells around me, honestly.”

“Okay, this one is light,” She pushes one bag towards you.

Both of you potter about in silence putting away their food and it’s as if neither of you wants to break the comfortable quiet. This was the most time you’d spent together in two years, and you felt like strangers to each other.

“So, how’s everything going with you?” You ask her, turning back to the kitchen island.

“I’m good,” She nods, “I’m not…” Belly clears her throat, “I’m not seeing anyone.”

You laugh, “Did you not know how to tell me?”

She smiles and hits your arm, “It’s awkward, okay?”

You chuckle at your sister, somehow catching such a glimpse of yourself in her expression.

“We actually… me and Conrad… we ended things not long after you left,” Belly clears her throat, “It was for the best.”

“Bels I didn’t…”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t because of you. I just think Conrad never really knew what he wanted, and maybe I didn’t either. I thought I was in love with that boy since I could remember, but I don’t think that was love. It was just the idea of him.”

You nod, “Well, younger Belly would probably thank you for figuring that out. But, tell me, is there anyone new on the scene?”

Before she can respond, the boys come tumbling in the front door again and you watch her eyes follow Jeremiah as he moves towards you both. There’s a brightness in them, one you’d only seen in your own when you were with Conrad. That was the feeling she was looking for.

“Jeremiah?!” You mouth to her and Belly widens her eyes at you in warning to not say anything more.

You raise your hands in surrender but give her a somewhat approving look, one that makes her cheeks ignite.

This was a pocket of home that you’d missed. One you didn’t realise you needed. Your siblings, this house, your family. It would always be important to you. And something about it felt even more magical now that you got to experience it with Kylo.

———

You find yourself focused on the sound of the door as if you can wish it to come sooner. Though you’re not sure why. You want to see him but you have no idea what to say to him. You have so much to tell him but you’re not even sure he’ll want to see you. Did he still hate you? Had he ever hated you? Would he hate you for not being here, for leaving?

You busy yourself with fixing the blanket in Kylo’s car seat. Jere and Steven had just gone to collect your stuff from the hotel - you’d agreed to stay at the house now.

And then it goes.

The sound of keys in the door, the door closing behind a familiar pair of feet. Rushed steps up the stairs, a left turn until they’re coming towards you.

And then your bedroom door opens, and a single figure stands in the doorway, slightly breathless.

“I saw your car on the drive.”

You stop in your tracks, the car seat behind your legs.

“I saw your car in the drive and I-“ Conrad begins again, “You’re home.”

You don’t have a chance to respond as he strides over and hugs you as if you’re a lifeline. His head buries into you and his arms around you as if he’s been needing you for years. His eyes are closed against you and you feel him inhale as if your presence had knocked every breath from his lungs.

And for a moment you’re frozen.

Until your arms kick into gear and they throw themselves around him too, holding him just as tight like you’re the only things holding each other up.

You feel him shift against you, that sort of shocked pause.

“(Y/n)…” His voice is quiet as he pulls away from you, “Is this…”

You step to the side to let him go past you as Conrad crouches down to the floor, his whole body cautious.

“This is Kylo.”

“Kylo,” Conrad grins, “You always said that’s the name you wanted for a boy. Do you remember? When we went to the boardwalk and there was that name on the-“

“The leaderboard for the go karts,” You grin, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I can’t believe you did too, you stuck to your word,” He smiles, talking softly as if he doesn’t want to disturb the tiny bundle looking up at him.

Conrad’s fingers are at either side of the car seat and Kylo reaches up to grip onto his thumb. Con laughs like a sort of gasp, as if it is choked in his throat.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” He half-whispers the words and you’re not sure at first if it’s to you or to the boy in front of him.

But you settle on it being both.

Conrad looks back at you and breaks into an even wider grin, standing back up, “Can you just… tell me everything.”

He sits himself down on your bed and you sit down beside him. And this is it. This the final bit of home you were waiting on.

You and Conrad. Him and you. The piece you’d been waiting for.

———

The following morning, you’re up early with Kylo. You carry him downstairs and go about fixing up a bottle for him, the two of you resting on the couch whilst he drinks.

There’s a text from Carmen on your phone.

Hope they don’t hate you too much x

You shoot back a quick response of reassurance and send him a photo of Kylo smiling at you from last night.

Just as Kylo finishes his bottle, there’s a sound from the stairs creaking as someone comes down.

“Morning,” It’s Conrad, dragging a hand over his eyes as he does.

“Hey,” You return softly, “Why are you up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” He grumbles, still in a half asleep state.

He drops down onto the couch next to you and smiles at Kylo, reaching out a finger to tickle his chest.

“Hey, could you do me a favor?” You ask him, “I need to change his diaper but the bag’s upstairs.”

“Yeah sure, what’s it look like?”

“It’s a black one, not the one with the handle but with the straps, and it’s like-“ You pause as you notice him watching you more and more confused, blinking at your explanation, “Okay, I’ll get the bag. Can you just watch him for a second?”

“That’s much easier,” Conrad grins and shifts on the couch so that he can hold the baby in his arms.

You stand up and head towards the door, hurrying upstairs to find the bag.

When you come back down, Conrad has Kylo stretched across his legs, his little feet hitting Conrad’s stomach and his head resting against his knees. He’s smiling down at him and Kylo grins tiredly up, giggling when Conrad tickles under his arms.

“You’re a natural,” You grin, coming down to sit beside him.

He looks up at you and raises his brows, “You think?”

“Well, he seems to like you,” You point out, not wanting to disturb the moment between them.

Conrad wiggles his hands beneath Kylo’s head and lifts him up, looking at you, “Where do you want me to put him?”

You snap back into reality, “Oh, right, yeah I’ve got a mat.”

He lowers the baby down onto it and then looks at you like he’s awaiting further instruction, “Come on, tell me what to do.”

“You want to change his diaper?” You laugh, “I can do it.”

“I’ve never done one before. I want to learn.”

“Alright, here,” You hand him over the wipes and a fresh diaper.

He’s far too slow when he starts and Kylo starts to wriggle on the mat, impatient of course.

“Does this thing not stay still?” Conrad grumbles, tongue between his lips as he concentrates on the task, his face grimacing just a little at the state of the dirty diaper.

“Put that one in here,” You hold out a diaper bag for him to dispose of it, “Alright, now wipe and new diaper. But make sure he’s covered - he’s a boy so that stuff can go everywhere.”

Conrad’s eyes widen as he takes your instruction, fixing the new diaper on - just a little wonky.

“There we go, fresh as a daisy,” He grins proudly at his accomplishment, “I think I could be pretty good at this.”

“Well that’s task two - making him laugh being task one,” You nod, “Not bad, Fisher.”

He lifts him back up onto the couch and lays him down beside you, Conrad sitting on the floor just in front of him like he’s already prepared to catch him.

He lets Kylo grab at the end of his hoodie, laughing at him before he turns to you.

“So, how does it all work? Are you… with someone?”

You shake your head, “We split up before I found out I was pregnant. But we’re really good friends, so it works. He helps out a lot.”

Conrad nods, “Well that sounds healthy.”

“What can I say? I’m mature now,” You joke.

“I think you always were,” He scoffs, “Especially compared to the rest of us.”

Both of you fall silent again and Kylo fills the space by gargling in some form of baby talk.

“What about you?” You clear your throat, drawing your legs to your chest on the couch, “Are you seeing anyone Mr Stanford?”

He scoffs, looking down at his hands, “No, no, I think I needed to stay away from all that for a little while. Clear my head.”

“And did you find anything in that clarity?” You taunt, yearning for the same connection the two of you had so long ago.

He looks at you for a second and pauses, “I guess I finally figured out what I want.”

For a brief moment you’re drawn to him, something in those eyes and that voice. But you tear yourself away.

“Well I’m glad the break was worth it,” You smile, looking away from him, “Sometimes that’s all that you need.”

You look down at your son and feel the same swell of pride you had when they first handed him to you in the delivery room. The same realisation that this was it now - this was everything.

“You know this place changed when you left,” Conrad comments, “And it’s changed again now you’re back.”

“Yeah, well, I always had that effect,” You wiggle your brows jokingly, lifting Kylo up from the couch to rest him on your lap.

Conrad pushes himself up to sit on the couch beside you and both of you fall silent in the seemingly empty house. He watches you with Kylo and is sure for a second that he’s looking at someone else. But it’s you. The one that was always made for this.

“I’m sorry if I-“

“I’m sorry if I-“

You both speak at the same time and look at each other with hints of smiles.

“You first,” Conrad encourages.

You take a deep breath, “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t be with Belly. She told me you guys ended things not long after and I just hate thinking that I was… I don’t know, that I ruined things,” You shake your head, “I know it was forever ago.”

“You didnt ruin anything. Me and Belly… we… I think I always knew that she liked me. And I just, I hated the thought of breaking her heart. Like it would be my fault if I didn’t feel the same. And that night, I don’t know what it was, I just convinced myself that I could feel the same as she did,” He takes a deep breath too, like both of you are fighting for air against tightened chests, “But we’re must better as friends, we both know that. And I’d never… I never did… feel that way about her. I was just confused.”

You nod, “Now you go.”

“I’n sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t good enough,” Conrad exhales, “Because I know that’s how you felt, and I never ever wanted you to think like that.”

“Con…”

“Im serious (Y/n),” He shifts in his seat so that he’s facing you properly, “I was younger and naive and I knew that I liked you and I just… suppressed it. Because I knew if I started anything with you then I’d want that to be it, and I wasn’t ready for you to break my heart.”

You laugh a little, your eyes pricking just slightly with tears, “You think I’m a heartbreaker, Fisher?”

Conrad smiles, his cheeks flushed a little, his muscles visibly relaxed from what they were. He’d missed this. You, the way you knew him, the way you read him. He’d missed it all.

———

“We’ll watch him, you can go and shower,” Belly assures you, “And I’ll make sure Steven doesn’t do anything stupid.”

You’d spent the day in and around the pool with Belly, Steven and Jeremiah whilst Conrad had gone to work. They’d bought a float for Kylo at the store and were all impatient to use it - taking a thousand photos of him with his hat on laying back in the float.

“Alright, well just shout me if there’s anything,” You encourage, “I’ll just use-“

“(Y/n),” Steven says in a calm tone, “Relax, we’ve got him, I promise.”

You nod and step off of the lounger you’d been on, walking around the side of the house to where the outdoor shower still stood.

This place. It held memories you’d wanted to forget.

Before you step in, your phone starts ringing and you glance down to see Carmen’s contact on your screen, you accept the call and press the speaker button on your phone.

“Hey (y/l/n), how’s it going?” He says as soon as you pick up.

“It’s going well, yeah,” You turn back around to the garden where Belly was holding Kylo in her arms, “They’re all so excited to meet him.”

“Do they know about his super cool, super helpful, super present Dad yet?” Carmen taunts.

“They do,” You chuckle into the microphone, “They’re glad I haven’t been doing it on my own.”

“Yeah, well, they would’ve known that if they tried-“

“Carmen,” You sigh, “Less hating them, yeah? It’s going well.”

“Okay, you’re right, but I’m still not their biggest fans,” He comments, “What about the long lost love of your life?”

“Oh my god will you stop?” You widen your eyes at his words.

“Come on, I know that’s who you were most nervous to see,” He returns, “How’s it been? Do you still… you know, feel that way about him?”

“I-“ You glance down at the exact spot you’d been stood in two years ago, when you’d told Conrad the truth, “It’s Conrad, you know? He makes me laugh and he listens to me and he feels like… it feels like the piece of me that I’ve been missing.”

Carmen laughs, “And I’m guessing you haven’t told him that.”

“I already ruined things with that boy once, I can’t do it again.”

“Ruin things? (Y/l/n) I think you’d be telling him what he’s been waiting to hear for two years.”

Before you can say anything, the sound of a twig snapping behind you makes you jump from your thoughts and you turn around to see Conrad stood just metres from you.

“Um, Carmen, I have to go,” You stumble over your words into the microphone, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wear protection!” He yells down the phone before you hang up, your cheeks flushing bright red as you look back at Conrad.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-“ Conrad mumbles, scratching at the back of his neck, “I just got back from work.”

“Right, yeah, of course, how- how was it?”

“Good,” Conrad nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I didn’t mean to listen in, or anything. I just… I don’t even normally walk this way, I don’t know why I did but I thought I could hear people and so I thought maybe you were outside, not that I was looking for you, but well I was-“

“Con,” You interrupt, “It’s okay.”

He smiles, taking a second to breathe, “That was Carmen?”

You look down at your phone in your hand, “Yeah, just calling to check how I’m getting on. It’s the first time he’s been away from Kylo too.”

Conrad nods in understanding, “Yeah, of course, I bet that’s weird for him.”

“Yeah I don’t think I could ever leave Ky now, it’s a parent thing, I guess,” You scratch at a patch on your arm as the nerves seem to overtake you, “I should probably… you know, I need to shower before tonight and I-“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you get on,” Conrad raises his hands and goes to step past you as you step into the booth of the shower.

You don’t make any move after that, thinking of every single thing you could’ve just said to him. How two years ago every word came to you all at once and, now, you can’t find a single right word to say. You feel your bottom lip tremble just slightly at the thought of everything you could’ve just told him but you shake it off.

“Hey, (Y/n),” Conrad’s voice speaks from the exact spot you’d just left him in, “What did he want you to tell me?”

You feel every bone in your body freeze at those words, practically sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands go numb, your eyes glazing over, your throat seemingly closing off any words.

As you turn around back to the entrance of the shower, there he is. Stood on the path with a look of hope in his eyes that you thought you’d never see again from Conrad.

“What did he want you to say?” He persists, eyes burning into you.

You exhale deeply, the tension in your shoulders dropping as if you’ve lost hope, “That I never should’ve walked away from you that night. And I hate myself every day for not fighting for you more, for not standing there and telling you that I’d wait for you. I’d wait for you in every life if that’s what it took for you to realise that you loved me. And I know I shouldn’t and I know it’s different now because I have a son and that’s complicated and you don’t have to want that or feel like you have to-“

He strides forward then, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face, his lips crashing into yours as if they’re returning home for the first time in forever. It’s messy and rushed and heated but neither of you care, both relaxing into a feeling you never thought you’d feel. Your hands grip at the material of his t-shirt like you’re convincing yourself that he’s real. And he is. It’s all real.

Your lips pull away first, rushing to catch every ounce of breath that had just been knocked from your lungs.

“I’d wait for you, (y/n). In this life, the next and the next after that, I’d wait for you too,” Conrad confirms, his eyes searching in both of yours, “This is it, okay? This is what I want, it’s what I’ve always wanted.”

You let out a laugh, somewhere verging on a sob as every emotion of every missed day seems to come out of you, “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

Conrad smiles, his hand moving to your chin to pull you into his lips once more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” He mumbles just millimetres from your lips.

“I think I have some idea,” You return with a smile, kissing him quickly.

This was it. In this life, the next one and the one after that - this was where you could be truly happy.

[binniebakery]

ʚ thinking about yeonjun as the cute barista who works at the cat cafe that just opened ʚ you and your friend stumble into this new cafe and its like!! finally!! something to do since you moved to this town!! you weren’t all about clubbing or partying so this was definitely a safe haven for you to hang out with friends. ʚ the atmosphere is fresh and vibrant. green plants are everywhere and soft jazz fills the air along with the smell of coffee beans and fresh pastries. not to mention the cats?? literally everywhere?? ʚ its all too cute and you feel as if you're in heaven as you sit lazily on the plush couch with a nice cup of your favorite drink ʚ maybe you are just in heaven because who is that cute guy with the thin round lenses cleaning the table across from you?? ʚ you feel your fingers grip you glass a tad bit tighter than needed. and your heart starts to flutter when he suddenly glances up your way ʚ its like some type of cheesy anime scene. the way you both look at each other and immediately turn away the second you realize you were staring at each other a little too long, cheeks flushed and you almost miss the small smile the cute worker gives you ʚ you bite the inside of your cheek as you wrack your brain for ideas on how to start a conversation because well... obviously you cant waste this one chance to talk to the most attractive guy you've ever seen.. </3 ʚ its almost as if the stars align when your friend gets up to use the restroom. leaving you to your thoughts ʚ a small orange cat jumps into your lap, pawing at your leg gently for attention. unfortunately the poor thing knocks over your drink in the process :((( ʚ and of course. its just your luck that the drink spills, scaring the poor creature away and leaving you with a stained outfit. ʚ fortunately for you. mr glasses witnesses the whole thing (because he totally hasn't been staring at you the entire time..) and immediately he jumps to action ʚ "oh no!! I'm so sorry, mango has a habit of being too friendly" he apologizes and immediately uses the rag he had already been using to wipe the table down. ʚ he's so handsome up close. cheek bones prominent as he lets out an apologetic smile. ʚ its your silence that has him awkwardly laughing as he hands you some napkins to clean off the remaining drink from your clothing ʚ "so.. is this your first time here? I've never seen you here before." ʚ right. you had a voice to use. ʚ you nod, "y- yeah um.. first time here with a friend! i- it's really nice!" you stutter out and the young man takes a seat next to you as he watches you pat down your lap. ʚ "well the cats seem to like you.. you should come here often. i didn't catch your name by the way?" he inquires. ʚ "y/n. and you?" "yeonjun." he points to his nametag and you want to smack yourself for not noticing it before. ʚ "well y/n. it's lovely to meet you. it's nice seeing new faces. especially good looking ones." he continues with a smile. ʚ you almost choke from his comment. a bit forward but it seemed so genuine coming from him. you freeze as you try to think of a proper response ʚ "oh! ah- thanks.. ! you.. you're face is... nice too." you trail off shyly. yeonjun lets out a soft laugh and you mentally kick yourself for once again being the most awkward person on the planet ʚ but also his laugh is gorgeous and you could listen to it all day so maybe your embarrassment was worth it. ʚ the timing couldn't have been worse when you see your friend walking back from the restroom. but before she could reach you both yeonjun leans close. ʚ "tell you what y/n. come back again when I'm working and you can get to know this nice face a little more." his voice is quiet and it barely reaches your ears. you feel the warmth of his breath and find yourself turning redder than ever. ʚ you look up at him as he stands from his seat. yeonjun waves as he walks off and you find yourself smiling awfully stupidly because how could you deny such an offer?

♡ Recipe Notes: this isn't proofread at all but i wanted to write something cute and simple <3 yeonjun has been on my mind lately fr. enjoy!

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

but i crumble completely when you cry . .

katsuki comforts you

katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things

he hates people who walk slow, he hates people who chew loudly or people who talk loud in places they know damn well they shouldn’t.

he hates when people walk on the back of his shoe and he hates idiots like kaminari who talk during movies.

but most of all, katsuki bakugou hates seeing you cry.

it sparks something in him, something red, hot and so angry when he finds you in your dorm. tears running down your cheeks that show no sign of stopping. he hates it even more when you make eye contact and you curl into yourself even more from where you’re sitting on the floor.

katsuki immediately decides this is the thing he hates the most.

he’s on you in seconds, kneeling in front of you, searching around to get a peek of your face hidden in your knees. he places his hands on top of yours where they’re wrapped around your legs and his chest tightens when you flinch a little.

“ who was it ? who did this to you ?” he can’t recognize his own voice, his words come out so fast he barely registers what he’s saying.

you try to speak but nothing but more broken sobs and shaky breaths come out as you desperately try to catch your breath and katsuki realizes that you talking isn’t a priority right now.

his eyebrows are furrowed and he almost looks angry but he’s so, so worried. if anything, he’s angry at himself for being so helpless, for not being able to help you in a time where you clearly need it.

he grabs your shoulder softly and the weight his chest lightens slightly when you lean a little closer to him, before letting him pull you tightly into his arms

“breathe for me.” he utters softly, voice gruff and gravelly. he never actually talks this softly unless he’s around you, the difference is so stark it surprises him a little bit but he’s got more important things to think about. praise spills from him occasionally, muttering a “you got it. i got you” into your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.

katsuki’s never really had to comfort anyone, he’s never felt the need to, but you’re not just anyone. your different, you’re his. his love his everything and he’ll be damned if he didn’t try his hardest for you.

you’ve calmed down a little bit, he noticed. you’re breathings calmed down a little and your sobs have been reduced to snivels. the tightness in his lungs is still there, but it’s less now.

“what’s goin’ on with you, hm ?” you’re grip tightens on his arm and you shove your head deeper into his chest. he moves his head away from your shoulder so he can place two small kisses on the top of your head

“talk to me, baby. needa know what’s up with you.” he pleads into the crown of your head. you sigh before speaking up.

“ i don’t know what’s up with me i just- it’s nothing bad i’m—” you’re desperately searching for the right words to use so what you’re about to say makes sense. “i just don’t—feel like myself today. i don’t know why, i just feel really bad today.” you let out a humorless chuckle and your voice dies out when you finish “m’sorry if i worried you” you sniffle.

he shushes you, his grip on you tightens when he hears you whimper “don’t..don’t fuckin’ apologize to me, got no reason to.” he spits. he sounds angry, and he is, why should you ever feel the need to apologize for feeling some type of way around him ?

“s’okay for you to feel that way..i do too, sometimes, you know ?” he knows you do. he knows you do because there are times where he comes to your room in tears, shaking and panicked. completely and utterly lost from the nightmares that had plagued him minutes before but knowing he had to come see you. you were there for him every time, gently soothing him and assuring him that he’d be okay. he owed it to you to do the same for you.

“s’okay to feel like shit sometimes, happens to the best of us.” he whispers “ but you can always come to me when you do, can deal with it together. an’ don’t go thinkin’ yer ‘bothering’ me either.” he says, parroting what you had just told him. “we’re together for a reason, dummy.” he’s soft spoken and his voice is so mellow despite his harsh little nickname for you, you could’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting so close to you, it makes you a little dizzy and a little weaker in you’re already mushy knees.

he grabs your shoulders gently to get your eyes on him. they’re still a little glossy but they’re a little less dull when he looks at you “ we’re in this together, always have been, always will be, got it ? “ he asserts, waiting for your response. and then you smile at him, it’s faint but it’s there and katsuki feels like he can breathe again. he smiles back softly at you when you respond with a soft “okay.”

you suddenly grab onto him and pull him into you tightly, locking him in a tight embrace and squeezing like you’re pressing a lemon. it throws him off for a second before he’s squeezing you just as hard, pressing your body against his.

“thank you, katsuki. you’re the best” you hum. he presses a long lingering kiss to your temple as response, before squeezing around your waist “ course i am.” he gloats. the smirk on his lips grows when you snort in response “what’re you laughing about, hah? don’t think so? don’t think i’m the best ?” he jests, using this as an opportunity to tickle you mercilessly. you kick and squirm but it’s no use, katsuki doesn’t stop until you’re a heaving , giggling mess. tears in your eyes as you plead and beg for him to stop but he doesn’t let up even when you’re laying on the ground with him on top of you.

“ i ain’t hearing what i wanna hear, you know what i want from you, baby.” he chuckles at the way you desperately gasp for breath, choking on your own spit in the process.

“y-you’re the ! the best, ‘suki ! the b-bestest of the best !” you gasp out, pushing blindly at his face to get him away from you and he finally let’s you go. “felt nice enough to let you off with a warning, won’t end well for ya if you try me again.” is what he says, playfully warning you and waving his finger around in your face. you’re completely out of breath, there are tears in your eyes again but they’re happy tears this time and you still can’t stop smiling and giggling as you try to bite at his finger and katsuki is more than happy with this.

because katsuki’s favorite thing is your smile.