#sometimes as an adult i have to look away when i see people jogging on the sidewalk

[gardenofnoah]

note: for my dearly beloved @bunnions now that it’s been read and we are Emotionally Processing. Bunny I LOVE you and I am so grateful that you wanted to read more of my silly little words. <3

wc: 8.2k tags: Bakugou x Bunny (bakubun supremacy), childhood friends to strangers to lovers, SOME angst (happy ending), minor injury (is just a little scrape on the playground, it’s okay), light smut, redemption/making amends

<3

-Today-

Bakugou Katuski was born to fight. Blessed with his mother’s quick tongue and quicker anger, it was never in his nature to shy away from what writhed, violent and hard, inside of him–to brandish it like a weapon, no matter the target. As an adult, Katuski finds he’s turned the weapon on himself and it’s different. This fight is one that does not seem to have an end, and while it’s not in his nature to quit–he’s sure as hell thought about it.

On the precipice of 30, just about everything is a fight if he’s honest with himself. But with that also comes some pride–he is a kicked dog reformed, and he hasn’t lost yet. That’s what he tells himself every morning, when the sunlight cuts through the window and pulls him from somewhere else–somewhere softer and a little kinder. When he opens his eyes despite the sting, it is another reminder of his own grit–of the ways he has fought to win another groggy morning.

There is a mechanical efficiency to this ritual that he’s gotten down to a science by now–the way he pulls himself from his sheets, the four minute shower that tells his brain it’s time to wake up, the coffee that he’s never liked (but now it’s either a bitter taste in his mouth or a splitting headache–the former feels like the easier route, and he feels he’s owed at least one of those), the 10 minutes of stretching before the 30 minute jog through familiar neighborhoods. Sometimes he’ll stall and make it an hour, doubling back to over the same sidewalks with a new perspective. Or at least he tries to–to him, it’s the same damn street any way you look at it.

He does all of these things with a commitment he’d expected to earn back by now–like there would be some karmic gift to taking care of himself that would magically fix him. And truthfully he has benefitted from consistency, but there is still an empty space somewhere inside him. To be meticulous in planning his days has not fulfilled him the way he wanted it to–he makes his breakfast and he pushes his body to its limit and he calls his mother as often as he can manage and he still thinks of you.

Katsuki has stability, and that is a new and welcome thing. Hard won and much deserved, he’s worked for it– and the people around him evidently agree, if Kirishima’s heavy arm around his shoulders and weepy compliments of how far he’s come anytime they’re out for drinks is an indication of that. Katsuki can see it, too–the fact that he only thinks about knocking Eijiro out a little bit when the big moron is yowling in his ear like that is progress in and of itself. That Katuski now has a whole horde of friends that regularly and willingly gather around with and for him is more than he ever imagined he’d have, and he’s grateful for it.

It was effort, of course–the years it took for him to make those long-overdue amends weigh heavily on him still, and it took even longer for that burden to feel anything but crushing. To let anyone near his underbelly was uncomfortable at best, but to be alone was worse, and Katsuki has never been a quitter. Except for when it comes to you.

Katsuki can’t admit to himself that he has given up, but he also can’t get himself to do anything about this silence that trails after him like a ghost. It’s infuriating because it’s just you, and he knows that that's exactly the reason he’s stuck in this constant game of will-he-or-won’t-he with himself, though he already knows the outcome. It’s just not one he can accept, so he tortures himself instead– he sees the concern on his friends’ faces over the way he tears himself apart and takes it as a personal failing, because it’s just you, and all he has to do is tell you he’s sorry.

Except he can’t do that. Because if he told you he was sorry, he’d have to tell you why–and then he’d have to tell you everything. Katsuki has never been a liar and knows that it might be the truth of it all that still holds him together (if there was ever a lamer excuse for holding out for something as silly as hope like this, he’s not aware of it). But his fingers bled with all of that stitching himself back together. It feels counterintuitive at best to unravel himself all over again for you.

You’d been the needle, and the thread. Another truth he could never bear to tell you.

-Six-

Katsuki doesn’t know what to do when he finds you curled in on yourself inside the fluorescent orange tunnel. The echoes of palms and knees moving through the plastic above his head reverberate through his body, but he can’t focus on any of it–his eyes are glued instead to the injury you’re crouched over–a scraped elbow, red and angry.

“Bunny?”

You sniff, and it raises goosebumps on his arms. “Pushed m–me.”

Your voice is tinny and distorted inside the tunnel. He’s suddenly filled with more anger than his six year old brain can wrap itself around. He puffs up his cheeks and turns from you, stomping his way out of the plastic that he’s not even tall enough to touch the top of.

He finds them easily enough–two of them, older than him by at least three years, targeting some other poor little kid. They’re circled around him like sharks. Katsuki only sees the shorter one step forward–arms extended, grinning as if his cruelty is a game–and then he blinks, and everything is different.

He blinks, and their target is gone–the two older ones are at his feet, the taller one barely holding back tears as he crouches over a bloody knee.

“Katsuki Bakugou–what the hell are you doing?”

He’s already fighting his mother before she has a full grip on his elbow, dragging him off the playground. He’s not listening–he just wants to go see if you’re okay.

“Oi–stop, you can’t just throw people down like that–”

“They pushed her!”

It’s nearly a screech and the first words he’s said since he parted from you. Startled, his mother lets him go–he doesn’t spare her a second glance, off like a shot toward your tunnel. He feels the heat of the sun-baked plastic, too hot on his palms, but it barely registers as he crawls in next to you.

“S’okay,” he says quietly, trying to coax you out of the pretzel you've contorted yourself into. He reaches the pocket of his superhero shorts and fishes out a singular bandaid, crinkled up and a little dirty and too small for the wound on your arm. He waits for you to peer up at him before he unwraps it, and presses it to your scrape. You wince.

“I’ll fix it,” he says, tongue poking out of the gap between his teeth as he smooths the bandage over your skin, “s’okay.”

-Today-

Katsuki isn’t necessarily a glutton for punishment–it just feels like the most effective form of conditioning.

His lungs burn–breath hitching with every stride he takes down the sidewalk. He pushes himself to go a little longer, to run a little faster, and the exhilaration that comes with the way his body listens to him thrills him enough to keep him moving.

Later his joints will be sore–when he stays at the gym far too long and strains himself to fatigue, his body will revolt in the ways that are familiar to him. A natural consequence to crossing a boundary. But for now it’ll hold out–it’ll hold up to the beating he forces it to take, all for his own improvement. For something else, too.

Physical strength is something he understands. He gets back what he puts into it–he lifts a heavy thing to lift something heavier. He feels the feverish drum of his heart as he pushes himself through another mile and knows that he will be stronger for it. There is the promise of longevity there–a clear reason to continue to work hard.

Emotional stuff is not in Katuski’s wheelhouse. He runs through every action he’s ever taken ad nauseam and nothing changes–he still feels as stagnant and frustrated as he ever did, and he’s no closer to reaching out to you than he was years ago. He can tell himself to just do it but there is no amount of repetition or discipline that will train his brain into allowing himself to pick up the phone and dial the number he still knows by heart. He doesn’t know what else to do, and he hates that, so he defaults to what he knows–to push his body further, with the hope that his brain may one day follow suit.

On autopilot, he rounds the corner across from the bodega with the Spanish rice that Sero won’t stop talking about, and nearly takes an elderly woman off her feet. He skids to a stop, out of breath as he asks nearly a hundred times if she’s alright.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she says with a chuckle, swatting him playfully with a gloved hand, “You just gave an old girl a fright, is all.”

“Y’sure?” he says, pointedly eyeing the cane that shakes under her fingers.

She tuts, rolling her eyes like he’s being ridiculous. “Yes, yes. Don’t let me keep you!”

Katuski nods, helping her back inside the shop she’d been walking toward. He knows her, he realizes. Not in any significant way, but he's certain he's blown past her cotton white mass of hair on his jogs down the sidewalk. “Sorry about that, granny.”

She waves him off and this time he lets her, thinking a little too hard about how easy it might be to take him off his feet when he reaches that age. He picks up the jog at an albeit slower pace. He gets a good five strides ahead before he’s stopped again in his tracks.

This time, by you.

He feels like he’s seeing a ghost, and probably looks like it too, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk like this. There’s no force on earth that could get him to move–not away from you, and certainly not toward you.

So he’s stuck where he is, watching you cross the street–the damn sun personified, smiling to every stranger that breezes past you–with a heavy moving box in your arms. Hair tied back at the nape of your neck, there’s nothing obstructing his view from the way each grin stretches into your cheeks and suddenly he feels a little sick. You pass in front of him, carrying too much and unaware of his lingering, 20 feet to your right. Then you’re inside and out of his view.

Someone brushes past him, startling the breath back into his lungs. It’s a gasping thing, and he can only focus on the expansion of his lungs in his chest to get him back on this plane of existence. He feels outside of himself–like seeing you has drop kicked him out of his body. He has no control of his feet that carry him toward the building you slipped into, despite all the screaming his mind subjects him to. There’s a war inside him and yet, he walks the half step to the door and pushes it open.

“Welcome in–oh.”

And then you’re looking at him with eyes that haven’t changed and he feels very sick–so much so that he can’t say anything. He just stands there, sweating and out of breath and damn terrified of the other half of his heart, staring back at him for the first time in years.

“Katsuki?”

And god, does he wish he’d turned around when he had the chance, because how unfair it is to have to hear you say his name like that. To see you look at him with only mild confusion and none of the disdain that he would’ve expected. Elbows propped on the counter in front of you, you show none of the tension he so palpably feels in every muscle of his body.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, and it’s painful. It’s all he can do to move his mouth around the words.

“Hey, Bunny.”

You give him the same splitting grin that you always did and it nearly knocks him on his ass. “What are you doing here?”

That’s a great question–he’s not looked around until now, and he has no idea where he is. There are framed art prints all over the dark walls, and dried flowers take up the spaces between them. There are some books, some knick knack looking things–his brain can’t process any of it.

“Uh–” trying to get his bearings, trying to come up with an answer that’s not I followed you in here after watching you on the street–

“You want a tour?” you ask him with a knowing smile, and he can only nod. You round the counter and then you’re next to him, and he feels your proximity like you hold a match to his skin. He has to fight to focus on your words–he wishes he would’ve clicked on any one of those “train your brain with this one trick” ads as he hears every third word and fights to connect the dots. Gallery, book vendors, display window. Something about a delivery schedule.

“These are all by a local artist,” you say, gesturing to a fourth of the wall in front of you, “I try to cycle them out as much as I can.”

He clings on to the last bit. “This is your place?”

Your eyes shift back to him, and you smile. It’s one of pride. “It is.”

He puts a pin in that–wholly interested in whatever could’ve led you here, but the latter part of that is a blinking neon sign in his brain.

“That mean you live around here?” He hates himself for sounding so hopeful–because what right does he have to that?

“Yeah, actually, I live down on our old street.” You say it like it doesn’t tilt his whole world on its axis. Like he can picture anything but running down a snow covered, lamp lit side street with your gloved hand in his. “You know that building next to the Thai place?”

He nods, and it’s all he can do. Of course he does. He remembers the old woman that lived in the first floor apartment–she’d yell down the street at the two of you to take some of the cookies she’d made to your mothers. He wonders if you keep plants in that front window, too.

You hum, choosing to move on–turning on your heel and pointing out the built-in shelves that curve over the arch of the front door.

He has the sudden and overwhelming urge to get the hell out of here.

“I, uh–” he says, clearing his throat a little too loud, “got something to do.”

“Oh,” you say, your smile faltering only a little. He wants to punch himself square in the face. “Of course. It was nice to see you, Katsuki.”

The nod is terse and automatic–all his brain power dedicated to timing his steps so that he doesn’t sprint out of your shop.

He walks–straight past the gym, where he meant to go–and doesn’t stop until his feet carry him through the threshold of his apartment. He ends up flat on his back in his tiny living room, staring at the ceiling and thinking of the way your canine tooth still pokes at your bottom lip the way it did when you were smaller and learning to ride a bike. He drags a hand down his face–some vain attempt of scrubbing the memory from his brain.

If nothing else, he knows what parts of the city to avoid now.

-Thirteen-

Katsuki feels weird. It’s not a new feeling–but it’s wholly unwelcome and an inconvenience at best. His body feels weird, too–he finds hair in places it wasn’t before and his voice does that god awful thing that embarrasses the hell out of him and he’s also been…having dreams.

You tend to be the star of them–which isn’t atypical, but usually in his dreams, he’s building a snow fort with you or reliving that time you accidentally swallowed a bug when you were 5. But now, his dreams make him acutely and uncomfortably aware of the changes in your body–the way your hips curve where they hadn’t before, the new swell of your chest, the way you smell a little different than you did before, how you’re often a full body, deep shade of red around him now–

He wakes up sticky and embarrassed more often than not.

It makes him want to avoid you–really, he'd do anything to stop the dreams and the feeling under his skin when you’re too close to him (or not close enough)–but he can’t. Not fully, anyway. He’s drawn to you like a magnet. He feels frustrated, and the only way he knows how to cope with that frustration right now is to get angry about it.

He takes out his anger on the younger and weaker–by now he’s forgotten the way those boys looked when they pushed you down at the park. The meaner he gets, the more revered he is by his peers, and that feels good. He doesn’t remember the way your tears beaded fat and fell down your cheeks in the way that the targets of his bullying shed them now. He slams a locker that someone has just opened and earns hoots and hollers from the boys around him, and to Katsuki, any praise is good praise.

He starts picking fights with his mother and antagonizing his teachers. He spends most afternoons in the principal’s office and he gets tired of the disapproval–of the disappointment that so palpably radiates from everyone around him. He does things he wouldn’t have considered before–skipping class and staying out past curfew (even if it’s just to loiter on the sidewalk of the next block over). He feeds off the energy of the group around him–someone makes a poor decision, and the rest follow. It feels good, to not feel any sense of inhibition. Everything else is fucked up and weird, but this is what he can control.

His one hang up is you.

Other students begin to avoid him in the halls-especially when he is flanked by one or two others. It feeds into his own sense of superiority–makes him puff out his chest and carry his head high on his shoulders. So high that he walks right past you.

“Hey!”

Your shout startles him out of his bravado. He turns and instantly deflates–one of his friends leers above you, holding your bookbag above your head, out of your reach.

He’s immediately filled with an anger that feels so familiar but he can’t place it. His vision dulls around the peripheral–focused in on you and the furrow of your eyebrows. Feeling, for the first time in a long while, some sense of injustice for what is happening around him.

Before he knows it, his fist connects with the soft remnant of baby fat that still exists under his friend’s ribcage. He drops, and so does your bookbag–Katsuki reaches over his writhing body to grab it and hand it back to you. He looks at you then–and is startled by what he sees on your face.

It’s a mix of shock and fear, and something else. Something like sadness, or what he'd later come to know as grief.

“Thanks, Katsuki.”

You sound quieter than he’s used to, and you don’t look at him when you take your bag from him. You sling it over your shoulder and turn on your heel, not bothering to say goodbye to him. He watches you go.

“Dude,” a cough from below him, “what the fuck–”

Katsuki looks down at the huddle of limbs below him with all of the disdain that he can muster. “Leave her alone,” he says. He walks away too, leaving his friend behind—not for the last time.

-Today-

Despite all of Katsuki’s attempts to avoid you, he sees you everywhere.

Except he can’t even really call them attempts. He supposes it’d be the opposite, because now he’s picked a new jogging route–which happens to be down the street you both grew up on. The one you’ve now made a home on.

He’s also managed to time it at exactly the time you head out to go to work. He nearly comes out of his skin the first time you call out to him. Like he wasn't expecting you to.

“Good morning,” you beam at him, having caught him right as he passed you on the sidewalk. He feels like you’ve trapped him there–which is odd, because he could just turn and continue his jog.

He doesn’t care to think too hard about why can’t physically get himself to do that.

“You want to come up?” you ask him, completely unaware of the agony inside him right now, “I just put on coffee–”

“No.” It’s gruff and too quick, and he sees you startle a bit. “I–uh. Have some shit to do this morning.”

You relax–and appear to be fighting off something like a grin, something a little too knowing for his comfort.

“Next time, then,” you tell him, pulling the door to your building shut behind you. “Have a good day, Katsuki.”

.

.

Next time comes very soon.

He did it to himself, really–there could only be so many times he meets you at your stoop at the exact moment you open the door before it stops being excused as a coincidence.

It's embarrassing at the very least and borderline obsessive behavior at its worst, but you don't bring it up–he's grateful for that, but also a little skeptical. You just invite him in again, and this time, he follows you through the door.

He's not sure what he was expecting. Really, it was silly to think that you'd have decorated your space according to your taste when you were seventeen, but he's surprised to find little bits of the person he knew you to be back then, scattered around your apartment. There's no mistaking the way your style has grown with you, though. It shouldn't be shocking to him that your home looks like a fully fleshed out, adult space, but it does. Weird.

"Offer's still there for coffee, if you want any."

You're watching him survey the place, hip leaned up against the entryway to the kitchen. The morning sun streams in through a window behind you, backlighting you in a warm glow.

Right. Why would it not?

Katsuki pulls himself together to nod at you, all the rigidity he'd tried to rid himself of still fully there. You smile and turn on your heel like you hadn't noticed.

Alone for the moment, he keeps looking. It feels a little invasive, but he can't stop. He needs to know about you, about the ways that you changed without him. He finds himself searching for the songs you like, the movies you watch, the hobbies you have. Who were you this whole time?

He walks slowly past a small, wooden shelf holding novels he's never heard of. The top cover is nondescript and gives him no hints as to what it could be about, but the spine is so worn that he knows you've read it more than once. He logs the title for...later. He's not actually sure why he's so fixated on it, but it freaks him out. He moves on.

There are frames all over the walls–art and dried flowers and a napkin with a note on it and in the middle of it all, a picture from a time he remembers. You and your kid sister in your matching pink overalls that used to embarrass you, but mostly because people mistook you for the younger sibling in them the most. Your face is painted like a tiger, and your front tooth is missing. He remembers this exact day, actually, because he's next to you in this picture.

"She never wants to match with me anymore."

He nearly jumps out of his skin. You pay him no mind, smiling softly at the picture. He tries to recover. "How is she–I, uh–"

"Doing? The same. Quiet still. My favorite person in the world."

He feels it in his chest and knows that it's true. He finds himself grateful that you've been loved this whole time. He also finds himself a little too aware of his own loneliness in a way that makes him want to leave. But you stand in his way now, coffee held out to him in your hands. He takes it and feels intensely grateful your fingers don't brush.

"You run every morning?"

The coffee burns his tongue and he fights the flinch, covering it with an affirming grunt.

"That's admirable. I think I'd have a hard time with a routine like that."

You don't mean anything by it. You couldn't mean anything by it, and yet he is reminded of the reason he has this routine. He is reminded of the person he was without this routine. And he needs to go right now.

He makes another excuse of having something he needs to do, and he doesn't look at your face when he leaves.

-Today-

You find yourself back in the old neighborhood bar on a Friday night, with none other than Kirishima Eijiro.

Eijiro has always been kind. When you ran into him on the sidewalk (literally, the wall of a man that he is), it was an easy yes when he'd asked you to catch up. You're not at all surprised to hear about his marriage, nor his baby on the way. It's fitting, you think. He'll be a great father, a great husband.

He asks about you, and you tell him about the gift shop. You tell him about moving away and it not feeling right–about the way it felt to be away from your sister. You tell him about your writing, and about the way your life is quiet and beautiful and your own.

There's just one thing that's bothering you.

“Tell me something,” you whisper lowly to the redhead, who leans in to listen. “What on earth is wrong with Katsuki?”

There’s a flash of something across his face, and then he’s back to feigning nonchalance. “Ah, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

You level him with a look. “Eijiro.”

He sighs, sitting back in his seat. “Alright, alright. I do know what you’re talking about, but it’s not my business to tell.”

You cross your arms across your chest, eyebrow raised. He only laughs.

“Jeez, you’re scary. All I can say is he feels guilty about how he left things between you.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack, lady. He’s been holding onto it for a while.”

“Why?”

He only shrugs, taking another sip from the drink in front of him. You think it might be yours, but you don’t have it in you to tell him–whatever gets you an answer. “He’s worked really hard. I’m proud of him. He just,” he gestures into the empty space with the glass like it holds the words he’s looking for, “didn’t know how to reach out, I think.”

“That’s stupid.”

The redhead laughs, warm and open like he always was. It feels nostalgic, in a way. You’d never had much opportunity to spend time with Eijiro, and you feel a little sad about that. He’s good. You were glad that, in the time you’d been absent from his life, Katsuki had been able to find a friend like him.

“As tough as he seems, I think it tears him up to know that someone he cares about is upset with him.”

You gape at him. “He thinks I’m mad at him?”

Eijiro grins at you over the rim of the glass. With the most emphasized discretion and a wink, he slides his phone to you, screen-side up. Katsuki's contact. “Yep. He’s a baby.”

-Seventeen-

At seventeen, Katsuki understands what it means to regret something for the first time. You sit in front of him in tears, and he feels that regret so deeply that he thinks he might be sick.

“You’re so mean, Katsuki.”

Your voice is so uncharacteristically quiet he almost has to strain to hear it. You don’t look at him–and he panics, because he’s never known you to be near him and not looking at him.

“You’re a crybaby,” he says, and he means it lightly–he expects you to laugh, and to make a jab at him back–but the crease between your eyebrows gets deeper and your chin wobbles and suddenly the walls are closing in around him.

“Bunny, I–”

“I have to go.” And then you’re gone.

Your footsteps ricochet off the walls and inside his head until his teeth ache with it. He doesn’t understand what the hell just happened–or why he can’t ever seem to stop his mouth from running out in front of him, just out of his reach.

There’s nothing else to do but go home. For the first time since he’d learned to drive, his passenger seat sits empty.

.

.

.

“Morning!”

You sound chipper when you sit down next to him, which confuses the hell out of him until he looks up at you and sees the way your smile is brief, and strained at best.

The shame crawls up his throat and clamps down on any attempt at reciprocation. It’s all he can do to force out a grunt of acknowledgement. You don’t say anything else.

Class ends, and he doesn’t wait for you. He is up and out of the room before you even stand from your seat.

.

.

.

There is something very cowardly that lives in Katsuki. He hadn’t known about it until now–and now he feels settled into it. Like it’s known him all his life.

He’s ignoring you. That’s what it is, no matter how many other ways his mind tries to spin it. It’s been 3 months since he made you cry and now it feels too late–like any attempt at speaking to you would just be inappropriate–so he doesn’t. He knows he’s a coward and he can see that it hurts you. Your texts start dwindling–where you used to chat with him throughout the day (often to his chagrin), your name comes across his phone once every few weeks, and then not at all. He reads every message, and he replies to none.

But then he gets busy–preparation for graduation and moving out and on and making something of himself–and a year passes. You still say hello to him when you see him. You’re still kind to him, which that in itself he cannot understand. There’s an obvious rift, though. You don’t seek him out anymore. And he can’t blame you.

He knows you’re alright, though, if your social media posts are anything to go by. You’ve made other friends, and every picture of the corners of your mouth drawn back in that familiar grin feels like a wound. He feels guilty about that, too–about the ways in which he grieves a spot in your life that he is no longer entitled to.

-Today-

He doesn’t touch a single step on the way up to your place–he’s not even sure he’s opened the door so much as kicked the fucking thing down just to get to you. You in danger–you hurt and needing him and–

Standing there. Whole and unharmed, fingers stained red only with the strawberry you have halfway to your mouth. Hip propped against the counter, you look relaxed–certainly not in any peril–

His exhale is sharp–forced, as the relief bleeds into irritation. “What the fuck, Bunny–”

“No, you, what the fuck,” you say, hands on your hips. His eyes have no choice but to follow them, and he realizes you have his sweatpants on. “What is wrong with you?”

They’d be floods on him now, but they fit you in a way that would make him believe they were yours if he didn’t know any better. Worn in, like you’d been wearing them this whole time. A relic from some sport he played way back when–where you wearing them felt inconsequential then, it feels monumental now, after how he treated you. He can’t wrap his mind around the way there could still be any possibility of a space carved out for himself in your life.

“Why did y’act like you were fuckin’ dying’?”

“Would you have come otherwise?”

That gives him pause–because he’s not sure what answer you’re looking for. “I–”

“You,” you cut him off with a step closer to him–he takes one back, toward the still open door. “Have been avoiding me. What did I do?”

“It’s not–you didn’t do anything–”

“So what is it?”

It’s quiet, then–and somehow the weight of his absence is more crushing than it’s ever been. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly–trying to slow the locomotive beat of his heart.

“M’sorry,” he mutters, looking down at a spot on the floor. He hates himself for not being able to look at you. He hates that after all of these years, this is the extent of his bravery.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Was shitty to you,” he drags a hand down his face and forces himself to look at you. Forces himself to keep your eyes for at least three seconds before the panic rears up and he has to look away again. “When we were kids.”

But now he’s frustrated–because that can’t be all he has to offer you. Years, and sorry I was an asshole is all he has to say? At this point in his life, after all of the work he has put in, it feels unacceptable to him.

He just can’t think of another thing to say.

But you’re patient. You always have been. You tilt your head and wait.

“I was…mean to you,” he hears your words to him so clearly he has to remind himself that you hadn’t just said them to him, standing here in front of him. “And then I left.”

“You did,” you murmur gently, but there’s no detectable bitterness in your tone. You look at him with all of the fondness you always did.

“Wasn’t right,” he gruffs, throat feeling tight, “‘n I should’ve apologized and then it was too late. And now…”

You hum, an almost sympathetic thing. You take a step closer to him, and he has to fight to stay where he is. A large part of him wants to bolt out the door–another smaller and seemingly insane part wants to be closer to you.

“I missed you, you know.”

His eyes snap to yours then–searching for the punchline. Waiting for you to tell him that you were only fucking with him. It doesn’t come. You seem to hear the question he can’t get himself to ask.

“I was never upset with you, Kat. I only ever missed you.”

“But I–” he can’t think of one good reason to try to argue with you right now, and yet he can’t stop his mouth from moving. “You cried–”

And that makes you laugh. “Katsuki, I was sixteen. Someone could have breathed the wrong way and I’d cry.”

He can’t get his brain to catch up. You take another step toward him–he feels your proximity buzz on his skin.

“I knew you,” you murmur, and it feels like a secret he does not deserve to hear, “and you’re different now. But I’d like to think I know you still.”

He feels your fingers wrap around the wrist that’s glued to his side. He eyes you, not completely confident that he’s not hallucinating right now. He lets the tension bleed from that particular spot of his body–lets you thread your fingers through his. It feels like you’ve set him on fire and he’s acutely aware in this moment that he will never let you go. Not ever again.

“I’m still here,” you tell him, speaking directly to his heart now. You take one more step and wrap your arms around his middle, ear to his heart. If he was anywhere close to his right mind, he’d be embarrassed by how it races in his chest. “I still need you like I did then.”

You’ve rendered him speechless and immobile. It’s another several, long seconds before you break the silence.

“Okay Kat this is going to be really embarrassing if you don’t hug me back–”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, thawed. He wraps both arms around your shoulders, a cage around your head that holds you to him. “Sorry.”

You laugh a little, muffled by his sweatshirt, and he feels warm. It’s quiet then, but not in a way that’s oppressive–not in a way that pins him to the floor or to his grief.

“Stay here tonight,” you tell him–you don’t ask.

He wants to say no–he has no change of clothes and he has his routine that keeps him afloat and he’s not sure what’ll happen if he strays from that–but to be with you like this feels good. It would be stupid to stave that off for even one more night.

.

.

.

Now that he's comfortable enough to really look, there are pieces of you around your apartment that he never thought he’d see again.

In the throw pillows you’ve picked, the way you arrange things (and not just the pictures and frames but other things that he didn't see before, ornate and odd and out of place if anywhere but here. He thinks they're weird and just like you to have) on your walls. He’s no idea when he got so damn sentimental, but he can’t help it (and would rather die than ask you about any of it, so he observes quietly when you’re not looking).

You ask him if he's hungry, and for the first time in a while, he's not nauseous around you and finds that he could eat. No sooner than you start cooking does he bat you away and take over completely. You put up what he knows is a weak attempt at a fight before you take a seat next to him on the counter to watch. It’s all he can do to pay attention to the downswing of his knife on the cutting board, rather than the way his sweatpants hug your hips from this angle.

God, is he fucking thirteen again?

He feels it–knows he’s red in the face the entire time you’re next to him. You seem oblivious–chatting with him about the shop and the book you’re reading and your sister, and everything else he’s missed in the last however long. It sobers him a bit–because there is so much that he has missed.

“Hey,” you swing your leg out to poke him in the gut with your toes. “I’m right here.”

He catches you by the foot and holds you there–fights to keep himself from brushing over the instep of it with his thumb. “Keep y'r gross feet to yourself.”

You hum. “You gonna let go of my gross foot then?”

He releases you immediately, red and grumbling about you being a damn brat when you chuckle. He busies himself with finishing dinner, pointedly choosing not to look at you to protect his own sanity.

He supposes it makes sense–he’d cut off his feelings for you years ago like he’d bent a hose in half. To be around you again has loosened his grip on the thing–and here they are again, flooding his system with far more pressure than before. It’s a heavy thing, the weight of his love and the burden of what he’d done. It doesn’t matter if you aren’t upset with him–he feels the need to atone all the same.

Over dinner, he feels bold enough to let you in, at least a little bit. He keeps his eyes on his plate as he details chronologically–graduating, the loneliness, the need to be connected and to make amends. In not so many words, he tells you about his regret. He wants to tell you of his deepest one–walking away from you–but he stops just short of it.

You’re thoughtful beside him, chewing on each piece of the puzzle as he shares it. After a moment, he starts to sweat.

“Never knew you could be so quiet.”

You huff, mouth pulling up at the corners. “And I never knew you could talk so much.”

Before he can get embarrassed, you reach for him again–fingers wrapping around his forearm. “You’re different now.”

It’s the second time you’ve said it and the wave of insecurity threatens to displace his dinner. The word comes out before he can stop it. “Bad?”

You shake your head, smile growing wider. “No. Not bad.”

He supposes he can live with that. You keep your grip on him, literal and otherwise.

“Don’t remember you bein’ so touchy.” It’s half-hearted at best–he curses himself for looking a gift horse in the mouth, but the confusion somehow beats out the unfettered need to have your attention on him.

He turns his arm over, palm up, and you smooth your thumb over the tendon in his wrist. You smile again, but it’s subdued this time. It doesn’t quite meet your eyes in the way he knows you meant it to. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“M’ sorry, Bunny.”

You shake your head, eyes trained on each freckle on his arm as you smooth over it with your thumb. “You were a child. There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.”

He huffs, grabbing a hold of your hand. “Yeah, well, ’m a grown ass man now and I’m still sorry.”

You snort, weaving your fingers together again. Your smile comes easier.

“I love you,” you murmur, eyes never leaving where you are linked with him.

The silence turns deafening. Katsuki is certain he’s just had a fucking stroke.

“I–you–”

“Oh my god,” you breathe, looking mortified as you snatch your hand away from him–

He snatches it back just as quickly. “Fuckin’–hold on–”

You look like you’re ready to chew his arm off to get out of his grasp–and it makes him laugh. Really laugh, deep in his chest–you look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I’ve been–fuckin’,” he says, still giggly, still giddy if he could ever be that, “dreamin’ of hearing you say that for nearly two damn decades and that’s how you do it?”

He’s still laughing as he watches the gears turn in your head–you relax a little in your seat and he releases you, only when he’s sure you won’t dart off. You suck in a breath, long and controlled.

“Oh,” you exhale, and he watches it click for you. “You–oh.”

He feels bolder than he ever has–every nerve ending in his body on fire and needing you. He's up and next to you before he knows it, and you look up at him with eyes that look right through him. For the first time, he hopes you see it all. He wants you to see everything.

Whatever you see has you up out of your seat, your hands reaching for him and settling on his chest like you'd known the feeling of him beneath your palms all of your life. You tilt your chin, and he follows you down.

.

.

.

Katsuki's got the whole world in his hands; he chooses to handle it–you–with fragility that he wasn’t sure he was capable of until now. He rushes nothing–the soft give of your hips under his hands is nearly dizzying and he can’t stop himself from pulling you closer, if you ever could be. You don’t seem to mind–reaching and grabbing and needing him like you are. To know that the unbridled want he feels is mutual burns him from the inside out–but it’s more than that, and he can feel it down to his bones–he loves you. So deeply and for so long that he hardly knows what to do with himself now that he has you in his lap. He only knows, as innately as breathing or the blood flowing through his veins, to pull you closer–fingertips touching at your spine and pulling you closer still, expanding with your ribcage at every breath that grows deeper against his lips.

“Katsuki,” and you whisper it but you may as well have shouted for the way it lights up every synapse in his brain, “want more of you–”

“Let me feel ya a little longer,” he presses a kiss to your jaw and he feels like he’s pleading. He’s not too proud to do it. “Just a little longer, yeah?”

You blink, processing what he’s asked, and a small, sweet smile splits your face as you lean your forehead to his temple, nodding softly. And god, does it feel like a prize, like a gift he’s surely never deserved but you are so good and you care little for how deserving he might be. He’s never known anything like you–never knew he could have something like this. Your body bows toward his like gravity or the universe or a god called you to do it, and there’s no force on earth or otherwise that could keep him from meeting you halfway.

His fingers follow the spaces between your ribs and trail up to the hollow of your throat–he feels the rapid flutter of your heart through the thin skin and the knowledge that you are as affected as he is proves to be too much for his own heart–

“Katsuki–”

You’re pleading now, and when he meets your hooded gaze he understands. His hands fall to your hips again, and press down gently–he can look nowhere but your face that goes slack as you shudder through the pleasure that he feels lick up his spine. He’s as intentional and methodical as he’s ever been, and he knows that if he’d ever been born for anything, it has to be this–to use his body for this–for you–

“Oh,” your arms loop around his neck and pull him back to you, and he chases the soft press of your lips to his–the feeling of your sweet sounds that fill his mouth, “it’s so good. You feel so good.”

Your praise gnaws at the edges of his skull and makes everything fuzzy. He’s mindless as he holds you there–rutting against you slowly, just as animal as anything but only with the goal of keeping you in his arms, kissing him like you are. Every plush glide of your mouth against his pulls him deeper into this thing–

He nearly comes out of his skin when your hand covers where he is hard and aching and squeezes. “I want to feel you,” you say, and he comes back to himself, if only a little bit, to pull your hand into his and bring it to his lips.

“Later”, he murmurs against your wrist, letting his words smear across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He presses a kiss to the inside of your elbow and raises it over his head to join the other. “Need you t’feel good.”

It’s the most honest thing he’s ever said and the weight of it presses you back into your sheets, open and looking up at him like an angel. He knows to treat you gentler still–he resists the urge to bite down–to consume, to bring you into him–and replaces it with the press of his mouth to your jawline, and the wet drag of his tongue across the skin of your stomach.

“So beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, warm and soft between your hip bones, “Y’re so fucking beautiful–”

He knows he’s never tasted a thing like you when you flood his tongue, and that he will never again–knows that he’ll never hear anything like the cry you let out as you let him have this part of you. The way you say his name, the way you don't seem to know whether to pull him in or push him away–now that he has you, he knows he can never go without.

He loves you. He loves you.

You slip over that edge with the ease of water from a glass and he nearly follows you. He presses his temple into the soft give of your thigh and feels delighted at the feeling of the flutter of your heartbeat. He'd stay there forever if he could, but your grip on his hair pulls him back up to you, and he can't stop the laugh that leaves him.

You kiss him and the arousal knocks around his stomach so hard it makes him dizzy. He pulls away just to ground himself–he leans his temple to yours and relishes in the feeling of your fingertips up his arms, over his shoulders, into his hair.

"Katsuki," you whisper, pulling him closer. He knows it could never be closer enough.

"'m here, Bunny," he kisses every inch of skin he can reach, "I'm here."

[vitospaghetta]

How do you imagine Leon's place to look like and where do you think he lives? Some flat?

Also alaooo what do you think he does in his free time?

You have no idea how much thought I've put into this over the years.

Let me preface this with the fact that I'm specifically talking about original continuity Leon post-RE6 here, where he's a seasoned adult and has been in his career field for a while.

Leon more-than-likely lives in D.C. (he could also live in VA or MD but he strikes me as the kinda guy who would rather eat glass than commute, especially with D.C. traffic being absolute bullshit) in an apartment somewhere in the city.

As a federal agent, he makes a salary, which is something that is determined by things like the amount responsibility you have within the agency, your credentials/experience, your skillset, etc. Given his role and responsibilities within the D.S.O., he's easily a top earner. The top earners within the FBI make $153,000 annually, but it looks like top earners within the CIA can make more — like with all things, every agency is different. The D.S.O. obviously isn't a real agency, but as one that is held above all others (as far as authority within the criminal justice system is concerned), Leon probably receives a pretty cushy salary. Around $200,000 annually, easy. Income tax would fuck him over, but he'd still walk away with a reasonable amount per month to afford a $4,000+ per month apartment or to buy one and pay off a mortgage.

He can easily afford a one or two bedroom apartment in the city is what I'm saying. And I mean a nice apartment. We're talking granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, washer and dryer in-unit, floor-to-ceiling windows, in a modern building in a nice area of the city. An area that consists entirely of nice apartment buildings like the one he lives in. There's actually an area just outside of NYC that reminds me of the kinda area I can see him living in. I was there to take the ferry over into the city for a memorial/organ donation event I was attending last year.

The pics don't exactly encapsulate the full vibe, and these apartments probably go for millions due to the proximity to the city and being right off the Hudson, but it's quiet, safe, and filled with sporty people. Lots of folks walking dogs, jogging after work hours, and a sense of community amongst people that seemingly have their shit together.

He strikes me as the type to have a two bedroom apartment just for an office that he's hardly ever in. He'd want to live in a building that has a gym as an amenity because it's easier than hoofing it to a gym elsewhere, and a garage for him to put his car and the crotch rocket he's currently mourning courtesy of Maria.

As for the apartment's interior, I feel like it would completely lack personality or cluttered charm. There's a level of almost sterility to it, in that it's devoid of knick-knacks, personal photos, and encompasses a strong aesthetic of maturity. Everything in it is nice. There's tasteful artwork on the walls, and it's furnished with well-made and sometimes expensive furniture and appliances, because, as a childless adult, if Leon's going to spend money on only himself, he's going to spend it well. You get what you pay for, after all. There are obviously some traces of Leon's personality strewn about — skin care products in the bathroom, boots and leather jackets by the door, some books, laundry crumpled at the foot of his bed and piled by the washer/dryer, maybe a single sarcastic coffee mug somewhere in the cabinet — but there's no novelty.

Due to his constant bouncing around, he isn't home enough to put too much effort into it, and he hasn't had the luxury of certainty or normalcy in so long that all he wants out of his home is for it to look nice and be a comfortable place to sleep. He appreciates coming home to a place that is his, but it doesn't need to be a display of everything he's ever enjoyed. Even when he is home, he strikes me as the type to start going stir crazy when he sits for too long. The most amount of time he probably ever spent at home was when he was self-isolating and hitting the bottle really hard. There's also the generational element of Gen-X'ers being extremely lowkey about shit.

As far as what Leon does in his free time, I feel like he enjoys doing things that are out of the house due to the aforementioned inability to stay alone with his thoughts for too long. The man is constantly trying to distract himself to place distance between himself and his trauma, so where he might have been able to sit and watch a movie alone before, he struggles to now.

Leon's very extroverted, likable, and adaptable, so he probably enjoys being around other people, even if he's not actively talking to them. Though he appreciates silence as well, when he's kicking things around in his head and is trying to find some semblance of peace and a means to calm the noise. He might get a coffee at a shop right by his apartment where he's a regular and everyone knows him by name, or go for a run, or go shopping. Maybe he tries to make plans with those he cares about to go out for dinner, like he did with Claire in Infinite Darkness. Maybe he tries to catch a good sunset over the Potomac River. He goes to the gym, he rides his motorcycle around the city or takes a scenic route on the outskirts just for the hell of it, he meets up with a fellow agent and they do shots at his favorite bar.

I don't think he has hobbies, as in crafting or gaming or being too involved in any specific interests, but everything he does is fueled by his love of people, his appreciation for what good he has in his life, and his need for escape.

[xyilous]

Everyone Needs Rest Sometimes

————————————

a friend and someone on here asked, i am (nervously) delivering

comfort fic but this time it’s Optimus getting the care he deserves 💞💞 written as my oc, but no names will be mentioned so it feels more like a self insert thing. Also intended to be read as either platonic or romantic, but my lean towards the latter based on people’s boundaries !! Written with tfp Optimus in mind, uses his holoform (cough cough heres my design cough)

cw for mental health stuff, anxiety, paranoia // might be slightly ooc but shhh

also there’s a bath scene (get your head out of the gutter!!/lh,j)

————————————

It’s been relatively quiet as of late, no new decepticon sightings or M.E.C.H. mischief popping up on the scanner. The peace was welcomed by most of team prime, the kids taking advantage of having free time with their robotic companions while the adults could be at a little ease knowing the youngsters aren’t in immediate danger. Considering there was a bit of a surge of enemy activity, the crew relished in being able to wind down from an intense week. Even Ratchet stepped away from his enhanced computer and projects to watch Raf and Jack go head to head in some (slightly too graphic) fighting game. You just finished prepping different popcorns and gathering a couple large bottles of various sodas, carrying everything including cups and napkins with the help of Arcee.

The only one missing out was Optimus. The old war warn autobot felt uneasy, cautious. While the team did just bust the decepticon’s most recent plan, he can’t help but worry himself by wandering what new scheme they’re coming up with. Seeing everyone having fun and conversing with each other was more than welcomed, the fear of that joy being ripped away from them made anxiety seep into his tired frame. He replaced Ratchet’s usual spot near the ground bridge switch, hitting multiple keys as he typed in the coordinates to yet another location to patrol. This is the third time today alone that he was preparing to drive off and watch for any possible leads, that’s the way it’s been since the updates died down. There wasn’t even enough time between attacks for them to plan something big and yet you could see that it was making him paranoid. Poor thing desperately needed a break, and yet he continues to push through, even though it’s clearly taking a huge toll on his spark. It was sad to witness, you could see how his eyebrows were tilted up in concern, how his steady servos hurriedly danced along the keyboard, it was beyond apparent the Optimus is running himself to the breaking point.

Slinking away from the others, you jogged to where he was standing and leaned against the rails, flagging him down just as the ground bridge started opening. Confusion was written all over his face as he turned towards your much smaller self, wondering why you weren’t mingling with the others. Before Optimus could even get a word out, you opened your mouth.

“You’re not going.” The Prime’s confusion increased at your order, not necessarily out of anger or annoyance, just surprise that you said it so plainly. However you stood your ground and sent him a look that showed you were more than serious. Standing face to face with a 30 foot cybernetic alien would’ve sent anyone else running with their tail between their legs, apparently not you though.

“Excuse me?” Turning to fully face you, Optimus rested his large servos on the railings of the platform, surrounding you like a cage. With a clear view of his front side, you can see just all the scratches and scuffs from recent battles, clearly unchecked by the base’s lone medic. Paint was chipping in areas, mud caked into others, apparently he’s been so caught up in protecting everyone that he didn’t even take his well-being into consideration.

“You’re not going. When’s the last time you recharged? O-Or even had energon?? Have you even seen yourself lately???” With every word that came out of your mouth, you sounded more and more upset, that concern you felt for the bot being beyond apparent in your tone. Optimus’ face drifted from confusion as he thought for a moment, before stating that your worries have been noted. That’s it? Yep. That was indeed it. Silently he turned back toward the still glowing ground bridge, completely brushing off your mini speech.

“No get your ass back here!! Don’t walk away from me!” Charging down the stairs while doing your best to not trip and stumble, you made your way infront of the walkway that led to whatever location he punched in, immediately doing your best to block his path. It didn’t do much, even with your hands sassily propped onto your hips, but it was enough to make his alt mode stop infront of you. By now Ratchet has picked up on your little spiel, alerting the others before inching his way to where he can hear. Not necessarily out of concern for a full argument starting, the old medic just hasn’t seen many tell the high and mighty Optimus Prime off.

It was rather tense, you clearly weren’t going to move from your spot and Optimus was just about as stubborn. After a long pause he folded outward and became upright again, wondering if he should just step around you. You are very small compared to him, he can do it, but he knows both you and Ratchet will chew him out later.

“I must go, if they are planning something it must be stopped before it comes to fruition.” That’s his first reason, usually the first one he says since it’s often times enough to get his teammates to side with his reasoning.

“It’ll be there later, you know that. Besides, they just tried to build some weird giant laser, big Earth threatening plans like that need time. You’ll be alright for a day.” And there’s your counter argument. Although you’ve not been with the autobots for years, you’ve been there long enough to have already thought of ways to get through whatever excuse he tosses at you. At the very least he has good motives.

“I don’t know how cybertronians work, but i do know that any living thing needs a break. That includes you, Optimus. Come on, I know what’ll make you feel better.” It helped convince him a little, but he’s still apprehensive. Ratchet finally buts in, just to confirm what you said, and then goes quiet again. The Prime’s face softened as you rested your hand on his knee, by now he’s kneeled down to be more level with you. Your attitude was harsh, yes, but you still showed that it was because you cared for the mech.

“I’m still a prime. You know this, I have a duty to fulfill.” And there’s the prime excuse. It was often a backup if his original reasoning wasn’t enough, but now isn’t the time for it to be tossed out. His worsening exhaustion is evident in his features and movements, the large digits that attempted to console you felt sluggish, drained. Guilt echoed out of his vocal cords due to the exchange, he felt terrible for making you and his team worry over him. A glance around the room revealed the distressed looks in his teammate’s eyes and optics. They knew just as well as he did that he was being overly cautious and in turn hurting himself, but they weren’t sure of when to intervene.

“Then for a few hours be Optimus. Nothing more.” An ex-vent heaved itself from his chest before he drew back.

“Just a few hours. I will grant you that and then I will patrol. For real this time.” As the words left his mouth you immediately sprung up, somewhat taken back that you got him to reluctantly agree. Ratchet, still hovering behind you, looked beyond bewildered at the fact that you were able to convince him, even when he, a millennia old medic and friend, failed to do so. A few hours isn’t a lot of time so you had to get to work immediately in order to take advantage of the situation. One problem though, a rather large one at that. The art of taking care of massive metal aliens was one far too foreign to your fleshy self, however humans are a different story.

“…Would you mind using your holoform in the meantime…? You don’t have to of course!! It’s just uhh, a bit hard to reach that high.” Rest in peace to your cocky attitude, it was a good run. A small nod and flash of light later, his much smaller and meatier form revealed itself. Technically a very high definition hologram, he still had the sensory inputs that you needed to soothe him the best you knew how. If anything, the softer form would allow you to do better than if it remained stiff. Optimus still towered over you, by the looks of it his intimidating height transferred to his holoform, as well as features to show how tired he is. Scars decorated his exposed bits of skin, a few adorned his face but from what you can see numerous ones were etched into the calloused skin of his hands. His eyes drooped and the bags underneath were beyond visible, the combination of his tired expression and slouched shoulders felt like a crude impersonation of the strong leader you’ve grown to know. It must’ve been obvious that you felt pity towards him since Optimus averted his eyes from your view, almost like an animal preparing for a scolding after doing something it was specifically told not to do.

“Come on, I’ll take care of you.” Your hand took his and you led him down the hall, straight to a bathroom that you did a slight renovation to in attempts to make it more homey. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but the underneath the sink you stored numerous bath salts, some used to help with sore muscles and some infused with lavender to help soothe anyone that could possibly need it. The door swung open effortlessly as the two of you walked into the smaller than ideal room, there was enough space for the both of you to move and exist without knocking into eachother, but it was still a snug fit. With a twist of the faucet knobs cool water flowed out before gradually starting to heat up, while the water slowly filled the tub Optimus found himself lost on what to do besides stand there with his arms stiff at his sides. He wasn’t dirty, you weren’t either, so why did you start a bath,,?

“Here, while this fills up I’m gonna dig out a couple things to help you relax, god knows you need it. Go ahead and get undressed, I promise I won’t look.” Your grin was evident on your voice as you spoke, trying to ease the tension by making joking a bit before hiding behind the now open cabinet doors to dig out the previously mentioned bath salts.

“Is this not an… intimate? thing for humans?” His words were a bit hesitant, unsure if that was the correct term to use. Optimus was always curious about Earth culture and routinely asked you questions about stuff he finds, whether it be online or something he saw a family or friend group do while on patrol, but this time it seems like he was figuring out things on his own.

“To some people, sure. Depends on who you ask in all honesty, for me I don’t mind it. If it makes you feel any better I’ll step out and wait until you’re settled if you want-“

“It’s alright. I’ll let you know when to look.” Turning your head back towards the inside of the cabinet you resumed your hunt for your bath add ins as the sound of rustling clothes filled the room. By the time you finally got a glimpse of the lavender flowers and the word ‘epsom salt’ slapped onto a bag, you could hear rippling water settle before Optimus let you know you’re not at risk of getting flashed.

Crawling on your knees towards the tub, you showed him your miracle workers you salvaged from under the sink, explaining that the salt helps muscles stop aching and that the lavender scent can help people take off the edge, even helps some sleep better. You sprinkled a generous amount of each into the water, getting a glimpse of even more scars that riddled the old Prime’s body. Some were raised, others with lines across them that show just how the skin mended itself together, all caused by a countless amount of battles, some of which were won, some of which were lost. They even speckled his knees and the bits of his legs that weren’t covered by the warm water. He was tense, unsure of what to do. Optimus isn’t used to relaxing like this, the vulnerability of it all made him feel exposed and like danger is lingering around, even with the ‘aromatherapy’ as you called it. His fists were clenched against his own will, he must be ready at all times to protect his team, he has to do anything he can to prevent another loss. Pressure and paranoia gnawed at him, the echoing thoughts in his head didn’t help in the slightest. He shouldn’t be doing this, it’s selfish to stop when everyone could be in danger, he needs to go-

“If something happens the others can handle it. You need to take care of yourself just like the others.” At your words the racing thoughts halted, immediately pausing to let him take in what you said and to wonder how you knew what he was thinking. Your hand rubbed soft circles into his shoulder as you spoke, gently trying to bring him out of his unfavorable headspace. He looked at you for reassurance, eyes wide and nearly timid, you could see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed rather harshly. Millions of years of wars and battles, and yet one of the coldest things he’s faced is his own anxiety. Nothing to fall back on, nobody he can turn to in hopes of reeling him back from his sea of what ifs. As a prime he felt like he had to hold his head high all the time and did not have the right to step back and let himself rest. You adjusted yourself a bit to try and sit at a better angle, but the second you raised a bit his tattered hand flew out and grabbed onto your shirt like you were going to disappear. The poor thing looked terrified as his knuckles turned white from his death grip, he needed your reassurance and was scared of you being ripped from his grasp like others from his past. Your hand rested against the back of his own, still desperately clinging to your now wet top.

“I’m not leaving, you’re okay, I promise. You know I don’t break promises.” You grazed your thumb against his hand, reassuring him that you just needed to adjust before your knee snapped in two. It took him a bit to give you any response, the only reply being a small nod before his grip loosening slowly before dropping to the edge of the bathtub, followed by the rest of his body.

“Let me wash your hair, hun. You can still hold onto me if you need to, yeah?” Grabbing a cup you had set off to the side specifically for baths, you started the water up again before getting Optimus to tip his head back. It still felt beyond foreign to him, but he couldn’t deny the warm water dancing across his scalp could put him to sleep. When you put shampoo in his hair and began to massage it into the follicles, you could watch as his eyes got heavier, his sleepiness trying to creep up on him. It was tempting to let him doze off, but with the size difference it wouldn’t be a good idea if he started slipping underwater. A light prod to his face was enough to wake him up enough to rinse and finish up with conditioner and a final spritz of water. You stood to grab a couple towels, one for his body and one for the soggy mess of hair on top of his head. The bath alone made his posture a bit less rigid, hopefully that lavender actually did it’s job. While he dried off, you jogged put the door and further down the hallway to a room with spare clothes, grabbing a mostly new t shirt and some pajama bottoms, praying that they were the right size. It felt a little strange to be grabbing a cozy outfit for someone who was tall enough to make some houses look small and someone who happened to be made out of metal, but at least you got him to take it easy-ish. Could be worse.

Upon your return you realized he was probably frozen, your evidence being the goosebumps that littered his crossed arms.

“Sorry for freezing you to death, here’s these. I’ll wait out by the door while you get dressed and when you’re done i’ll blow dry your hair, alright?” With a nod Optimus gratefully took the pajamas as you stepped out into your aforementioned position. In a sense it felt like you were keeping guard of the old man mech, the thought triggers your curiosity and you can’t help but wonder if he’s had someone take care of him like this. If his reactions have told you anything, it’s that he’s not allowed himself to be treated in such a way. Perhaps it’s a matter of not wanting pity, or maybe it’s as simple as he feels like he’s too mature to accept such treatment. It’s a shame really, the one that needs it the most is usually too selfless to allow it. A couple minutes later the door creaked open, revealing a damp, but slightly more relaxed Optimus. You stepped back into the cramped room and instructed him to sit on the toilet seat as you dug out the blow drier and plugged it into the wall outlet. He watched every movement you made with curiosity filled eyes, he always had a fascination with human objects, the way people have invented items for basically everything was so interesting to him, especially considering how primitive Earth’s creations can be.

“What is that in your hands?” He asked you, using his hands to point at the blow dryer in your hands. He’s not seen one before, and the way it resembled a gun made him a little nervous over it, especially considering flesh will suffer much more with a bullet than if he was his usual metal self.

“Oh this? It blows out hot air to help dry your hair. It’s not as scary as it looks, I promise.” As you spoke you used your freehand to lead him to sit down and got to work, flipping the switch that caused the simple device to do what you said. The sudden sound startled him a little at first but with reassurance he calmed enough to let you do your thing, his eyes closing while he absorbed the peace around him. Optimus was still apprehensive to letting you tend to him, but the longer time passed the more he felt his walls chipping away, reluctantly letting his guard down to you. Partway you grabbed a plain comb to send through the synthetic hairs that rested atop his head, the sensation was yet another new one considering his holoform was mainly used as a disguise, not a tool for self care (or in this case care from a trusted individual). It was a nice change of touch, if that made sense. The sensation was a lot more enjoyable compared to battling or trying to track down energon to refuel the already exhausted team. Unfortunately, due to his short hair the moment didn’t last near as long as he wanted or deserved, but at the very least he wasn’t damp anymore. Between the heat from the blow drier and what’s left of the steam from the bath, he felt so cozy and weightless, almost as if the water washed the weight from his tender shoulders. With a click, the air stopped blowing on his scalp and a gentle tap on his shoulder made his eyes open up again.

“Come on, I’m making you watch a movie. Don’t worry, I picked an animated one so it’s nothing too intense.” Despite your order, your tone stayed soft and gentle as you spoke, making sure not to jolt him from his little moment of peace. As you put your tools away Optimus stood and ran a hand through his hair, taking in just how soft it became from something as simple as wind. Being made of metal most of the time didn’t allow him to have such moments, to a human this would be such a normal everyday thing but for him it was a welcomed break. Being able to be over all softer and vulnerable after being alert for Primus knows how long, it was soothing after the first anxieties fizzled away. You took his hand and led him back to the main area of the base, dragging him up the steps and to the slightly worn down couch. A small tv, fit with the kid’s gaming console and various movie and game cases scattered about. By the looks of it, the team has already escorted their human companions home while Ratchet lingered in the background, typing away at his computer as per usual. It was abnormally quiet considering the hubbub that filled the room earlier, but the lack of music blasting or prepubescent voices squeaking their way into everyone’s ears (or audials) wasn’t unwelcome. You led Optimus to sit down before you crouched in front of the tv, popping in your choice of entertainment. Most have already been watched so you made sure to avoid anything overly angsty or gut wrenching, from what you know the prime doesn’t sit down and watch these, hopefully you can get him into something besides recon. Everything was up and ready to go as you made you’re self comfortable next to a rather stiff holoform. His hands were awkwardly tapping against his thighs as his back was straightened, clearly unsure of what to do or even where to look. Has he ever taken the time to actually wind down…?

“You’re stiff as a board, here, get comfy.” A little maneuvering later you managed to get him to lay down with his head in your lap, though the lower part of his legs ended up dangling over the arm rest due to his sheer height. His body was still fairly rigid but, it’s an improvement at the very least. A blanket rested on the back of the couch, it was a thin but fuzzy one that June brought over in case the you or the kids got cold, it’s coming in handy right about now. You draped it over his body and your legs the best you could, it was a bit difficult considering the size difference between you two, but you managed the best you could. After a couple button presses and a huff from Ratchet due to you asking him to turn off the light, the movie began.

The screen displayed whimsical colors as exciting music erupted from the speakers, immediately capturing the prime’s attention. You could see vibrant hues dance along his cheeks and nearly child like wonder swirl in his eyes, the way he processed every sentence and action was endearing, especially considering you’re doing something as small as watching a movie. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he clung to every word and movement of the characters, the sight of such a strong bot finally getting a more than well deserved break was heartwarming.

Part way through the movie your hand drifted into his hair, immediately raking your fingers through his soft locks. There was the slightest, almost undetectable, tensing in his body before he eased into the touch, even trying to cuddle closer to the best of his abilities. You could feel how he sunk into you even more as he watched the screen, eventually letting a yawn slip from his mouth. He fought to stay awake though, hellbent on seeing how the main character beats the antagonist and resolves the main issue at hand. Optimus was much more exhausted than he let on, even he didn’t realize just how tired he was. By now he’s twisted to lay on his side and his upper body was layered on top of your abdomen, arm wrapped somewhat around your hip with his head laying on your stomach. Eventually his eyelids grew too heavy and drifted closed, his fleshy frame softened ever so slightly as sleep overcame the poor mech. Your hand still danced around his hair, mindlessly playing with the strands as a similar fatigue settled its way deep into your bones. The ending of the movie will remain unknown (to Optimus at the very least) as you both dozed off, getting some well deserved rest.

————————————

sorry this took me ages!!! between surgery, mental health stuff, and being exhausted every day it’s been in the works for a lot longer than i intended!!!!

[eating-plastic]

Headcanons: Roller Ricky General and Relationship Headcanons

A/N: Yes, I know I got done with a whole x reader fic with this man recently, but I got more ideas. This will include expansions on headcanons I mentioned in the fic and ones I didn’t. And yes, some of these will be relationship headcanons because I can’t help myself lol. That’s all for today. Bye!

🛼-It is implied that Roller Ricky would be in his mid-late thirties at the time of the game, but if I were to give him a specific age, I would say that he is 36-37 years old

🛼-He absolutely loves animals, and he occasionally volunteers at an animal shelter near Gallows Creek. While he has a preference for dogs, he doesn’t mind cats. Especially kittens, they are a close second to puppies when it comes to “warming his heart”

🛼-Speaking of animals, I should probably mention Maxy since he and Ricky are a package deal. I headcanon Max as being a German Shepherd. Idk why, that was just the first dog breed that comes to mind when I think of him

🛼-Ricky has a bunch of fun shirts that he sometimes dresses Max in. He even has some matching shirts of his own

🛼-Though he obviously doesn’t play the sport anymore, Ricky still enjoys watching football. He even bought a jersey of his favorite team for Maxy

🛼-While of course he loves roller disco, he also enjoys going on drives with Max in the front seat as a way to clear his head or get away from Gallows Creek for a bit

🛼-I can see him and Sandra being on good terms. While he’s not as crazy about jazzercise like she is, he doesn’t mind jogging with her from time to time

🛼-I see Ricky as being bisexual with a 50-50 spilt preference for men and women

🛼-This is because he is just looking for a person that he can hang out and have fun with. He wants someone who he can wake up with in the morning and go to bed with at night. Someone that he could see himself growing old with, and it doesn’t matter if that person is a man or a woman

🛼-This man is a massive cuddle bug. No one can tell me otherwise. Now, obviously he knows there is a time and a place for snuggling up with you and will respect your wishes on the matter, but if your down, he’ll be down. He also makes adjustments based on if you are shorter than him, taller than him, or the same height as him (I see him being 5′ 10″ / 178 cm)

🛼-While he does have his preferences when it comes to music, he’s not a music snob. If you listen to a genre or artist he’s not the biggest fan of, he’s not gonna tell you that “it sucks”. He’s more than happy that you can hear something in a song that he can’t

🛼-Speaking of music, Ricky will definitely make a relationship mixtape that contains songs that are significant to both of you

🛼-Dancing with him at the roller rink when it’s just you, him, and Max. That’s all. Just imagine that

🛼-This man is so good with kids. While he offers lessons for both adults and children alike, he often finds himself teaching kids. He’s encouraging, fun, and patient, which makes children like him. He also knows just what to say to calm down a kid that hurt themself or are getting discouraged at constantly falling over

🛼-All I’m saying is that if you and Ricky decided to have kids whether it be through adoption or ,if possible, getting you pregnant, he’s gonna be such a sweet dad  ❤️

🛼-As we know, he is apparently not too good with keeping secrets, so he would accidently tell you if he was going to propose to you. He’ll feel terrible about it, but you couldn’t care less. You’re happy to be his fiancé no matter how he pops the question 

🛼-His favorite movie genre is comedy, but he can sit through mostly anything. He’s not the biggest fan of horror movies. Especially ones that involve a masked psycho killing people. You can imagine why that might be a bit triggering for him. He’s cool with Universal monster movies like Dracula or Frankenstein tho

🛼-Ricky has a preference for spicy foods. I mean, he loves food in general, but the way to his heart is any dish with a bit of a kick to it

🛼-His love language is quality time. He loves spending time with you whether you’re going out to eat, taking Max for a walk, dancing with him at the roller rink, or just simply staying inside and watching TV

🛼-In conclusion, Roller Ricky is the ideal man and the reason why my standards have now skyrocketed. Thank you

[casspurrjoybell-26]

Too Old For This - Chapter 13 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content* 

When Leroy and Zachary got to the grocery store parking lot, Leroy helped Zachary out of the front seat and then went ahead to help him set up his chair.

The older man had thanked him, setting it in before rolling himself towards the grocery store entrance.

Leroy walked behind him, taking in the swarm of people going in and out, holding on to bags of food.      

 "I'm going to get the meat first," Leroy announced when he was able to get a coin cart.

Zachary nodded at him, picking up a basket from the stack.

"I'm not to get the frozen dinners first, I'll meet up with you in the fruit aisle after," Zachary said, holding on to the basket on his lap before Leroy nodded and made his way to the freezers.

I picked up a couple of packets of meat, some fish and after some contemplation, his sister's favorite shrimp.

When he made his way to the fruits and vegetable section, Zachary was already there inspecting an onion in his hand.      

"Did you find everything alright?" Leroy asked and Zachary just nodded, not saying anything.      

At first, Leroy thought Zachary was just tired and proceeded to pick up vegetables himself but slowly and surely, it dawned on him that someone was lingering around them a bit too much.

There was a lady that walked by several times, not picking anything and anytime Leroy would look up at her she was staring directly at Zachary.

He would make eye contact with her and then she would blink, looking away before speed-walking out of their peripheral vision and somehow making her way back to the vegetable aisle again.      

It got so annoying that Leroy finally butted in and said something.    

"Hey, can we help you?" he asked, making the lady's eyes move to him for the first time.

The woman stared at him, not saying anything, her eyes then moved back to Zachary... again.      

"Can we help you? Why are you staring at him?" Leroy repeated and the lady looked back at him again, before rubbing the back of her neck.  

"I was just curious," she mumbled.      

"Curious about what?" Leroy asked but the woman didn't answer, she turned around and walked away... almost jogging as if she was being chased.      

"What was that about?" Leroy asked, looking over at Zachary who has been inaudible throughout the whole fiasco.

"Do you know her?"  Leroy asked and Zachary just shook his head, getting a clear bag to add some carrots to.

"No, people just do that sometimes."

"What?"      

"They see me in a wheelchair and they see me stand up... like I did to look at the top shelf when picking out frozen meals and they just let their curiosity get the better of them..."      

"She basically stalked you in a grocery store because you stood up. That's not just curiosity, what the hell?" Leroy said and Zachary seemed to think about it for a bit before sighing.      

"Well, that's how people treat me. What else could I call it?" Zachary asked.

"If I call out everyone that stares at me and follows me... if I call out every kid that says weird stuff or adults that just contemplate my condition like I'm not just standing there, what do I gain?"    

Leroy stared at the older man, not sure how to respond to that.

"What do I gain from being angry all the time? Being hurt? Annoyed?" Zachary asked and Leroy couldn't really answer.

"Hey, they have bok choy," the older man said after a while of silence.  

Leroy blinked, looking over at what he was gesturing at, feeling weird that they'd just abandoned the conversation like that but he wasn't sure what to do.

Zachary just seemed exhausted and being angry on his behalf when Zachary wasn't angry himself didn't seem like it was worth it.  

Leroy wasn't sure what he had expected from doing a grocery haul with Zachary but he hadn't expected to be stared at like he wasn't even a sentient human being.

He felt angry on Zacaryh's behalf mostly and wondered if the older man had just sucked up the fact that children would point and stare and adults would observe and talk under their breaths like he wasn't even there.

He wondered if Zachary had to endure this feeling of deep discomfort every time he went about in his chair.  

Leroy could describe how relieved he was that they made it to the checkout aisle without him losing his temper.

[rocorambles]

Reassurance

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Spanking, Atsumu’s a jealous asshole

Summary: Atsumu annoying Sakusa isn’t anything new, but when the blond setter says something that hits a little too close to home, you’re there to reassure your dark haired lover and remind him that he’s the only one for you. 

Author’s Note: The original request was for reader to have a fwb relationship with Sakusa, but in the spirit of Valentine’s day and desire for slightly softer Sakusa content (although it’s still pretty rough sex OOPS), I have them officially dating in this story. 

Miya Atsumu is a thorn in Sakusa's side, a fact that doesn't surprise anyone on the MSBY Jackals. But usually there's a slight playfulness to their bickering, a taunting smirk thrown in to take off the razor sharp edges of their vicious words that Bokuto and Hinata nervously laugh at and that Meian rolls his eyes at before they all resume practice. 

Not today however and Bokuto grits his teeth as he holds Sakusa back with all his strength, a worried look in usually carefree eyes, as Hinata wraps his wiry arms around Atsumu and practically tackles the fiery setter to the floor, as Meian sternly shouts at both players to calm down, strategically placing himself between their thrashing bodies as they fight against their human restraints and bare their fangs at each other. 

The team adores you and how can Sakusa blame them when he himself fell head over heels for you in a way he never thought was possible? So he just fondly looks on as Bokuto and Hinata look at you with star-filled eyes and ignores the harmless subtle looks Meian sneaks at you when you appear at practices, matches, and team outings. It's harder to ignore Atsumu's blatant leering stares, but the blonde setter never makes an outright disrespectful move other than flirtatious comments here and there, so as irritating as it is, Sakusa doesn't say a word for the sake of the team. 

But today he had gone too far and although it wasn't the first time Atsumu had openly raved about how breathtakingly attractive you are in the team locker room whenever you posted a new picture on social media, it is the first time he has openly denounced your relationship and everyone freezes at the setter's scornful words when he questions what you see in Sakusa. 

Even the team airheads quiet down, but Atsumu continues prattling on about how he would treat you so much better than Sakusa, how you deserve more than some frigid germaphobe, seemingly unaware of the growing tension in the air, the cold fury in dark eyes as Sakusa stares him down. But then he looks Sakusa dead in the eyes, not a hint of a joke in his disdainful gaze, and all hell breaks loose as Sakusa lunges at his sneering teammate. 

Despite how aloof Sakusa comes off as, he’s not completely oblivious to his own reputation and how cold he comes off as to others. He sees the skepticism in other’s eyes when the two of you walk out and about. He hears the doubtful mutterings as people wonder if he’s even capable of being a caring boyfriend. And the worst part of it all is that they aren’t wrong. 

He is irritable. He isn’t friendly. He’s not a great communicator. And the thought of intimately touching anyone had always turned him off to the point where even he himself wondered if he was destined to be alone. Until he met you. 

Women are pretty enough. He can admit that, not a stranger to appreciatively looking at an attractive female who asks him for his signature after a game. But skin on skin contact with a stranger? Holding a conversation about meaningless small talk? Out of the question and dating wasn’t something he even remotely considered as he focused on volleyball and being part of the future Japan National Team that would bring the country its first volleyball gold medal. 

And then you had swung into his life out of nowhere, turning his world and opinions upside down and for the first time he found himself wanting to get to know you better, talk with you. 

It hadn’t been easy, figuring out how to make a relationship work and in his defense, you’re his first girlfriend. But he grimaces when he looks back at the arguments the two of you used to have, the tears in your eyes when you asked him if he even cared about you, were you so disgusting that he couldn’t even bear touching you, the hurt in your eyes when he chose to stay silent instead of tell you how he really feels. And he groans when he remembers how his own damned pride had refused to budge, refused to allow himself to be vulnerable to you, refused to meet you in the middle. 

But when you had come to him, defeated, a slump in your shoulders as you asked him if he wanted to just end things, he had clawed and torn his pride to shreds, love and fear of losing you overcoming his constraints and the two of you began anew, communicating and working together to create a joint journey. It’s an amazing relationship despite the slight spats the two of you still sometimes have, but that doesn’t mean doubt and insecurity don’t brush the edges of his mind every now and then when he feels like he’s failed you as a partner. 

Damn Atsumu and his ability to stick his claws where it really hurts. 

Needless to say, both Atsumu and him are promptly kicked out of the gym after both receiving an earful from Meian about their unprofessional behavior and an affectionate but stern slap to both their heads as their captain orders them to go cool down and start practice on a fresh new page tomorrow. 

And he knows he should take the wise advice, should walk around, maybe jog, let the fresh air calm the turbulent storm inside of him calm before he returns to you, but doubt and uncertainty drag him to your front door and before he can even register what’s happening, he’s pounding relentlessly on the wood until you open it up for him and stare at him with surprised wide doe eyes. 

“Kiyoomi? You’re really early. I haven’t even started prepping for dinner yet-”

Your words falter as you’re brusquely pushed against the wall of your foyer, the front door slamming shut behind your lover and you yelp when lips come crashing against yours, almost painfully so. Bewildered you almost have half a mind to shove him off and have him explain what’s going on, but then he’s pulling away himself, calloused hands clutching the fabric of your shirt tightly, and your chest tightens at the distraught desperation in normally calm eyes. 

“Kiyoomi? Is everything okay?” 

You moan as he kisses you once again, more tenderly than before, but passionate enough that you’re gasping for breath when he finally pulls away and you melt into his tight embrace as strong arms wrap around you and hold you tight to him. 

“I just need you. Now.”

And how could you possibly deny that intense stare as dark eyes pin you down? 

Intimacy with Sakusa is usually premeditated, process-oriented, starting with a thorough cleanse in the shower and both of you neatly folding and piling your clothes safely in a corner before falling into bed with each other. Nothing like this and your heart races as you’re being dragged through the house and literally tossed onto the bed with so much impact you bounce back, only to be held still once more as Sakusa’s hands scramble to remove your clothing, almost tearing your outfit in the process as he haphazardly tosses them somewhere to the side. 

You want to tell him he can relax, that you’re not going anywhere, but before you can soothe him you squeal as you’re pressed against the bedsheets, a mouth hungrily kissing and sucking dark bruising marks all over your neck, your collarbone, body writhing as two hands cover your breasts, kneading and rolling your nipples between dexterous fingers. And suddenly you don’t want him to take it down a notch after all, your hips arching up and insistently rubbing against him in a desperate plea for more that he’s quick to answer by grinding his own groin down against you. 

It’s desperate, pathetic, two grown adults humping each other like animals, but neither of you can get enough of it and you’re embarrassingly close to cumming just like that, lewd moans filling the air as you succumb to the combined assault of his body, mouth, and hands. But you indignantly whine when he abruptly pulls away, shocking you back to attention when the cold air pierces you without his body covering yours. And Sakusa smirks at the way your whining turns into a yelp as he easily drags you to the edge of the bed by your ankles until your legs dangle off the mattress, a glint in his eyes when he sees how you nervously swallow at the sight of him kneeling between your legs, his fingers teasingly positioned at your inner thighs. 

Sakusa has talented hands, a fact that’s well known to anyone who’s a part of the Japanese Volleyball Association, but you wonder if they could ever imagine just how much more multifaceted his gift truly is and you let out a high-pitched keen as he glides two fingers inside of you, twisting his notoriously flexible wrists in a way that instantly has you seeing stars as he reaches and drags against places inside of you that you never even knew existed. You’re dripping and you wince at the lewd slick sounds you hear as he relentlessly explores and ruins you, shyly biting your lip when you vaguely think about how Sakusa abhors the mess of sex, and you make to gently push him away from you, reassuring him that he doesn’t need to go through with this. 

But you startle at the animalistic snarl directed at you, unable to do anything else except slump back down on the rumpled sheets, desperately digging your nails into the fabric surrounding you when he adds a third finger and increases his pace, twisting and turning, plunging even deeper inside of you. It’s overwhelming and you know you’re dangerously close to the edge already, head thrashing side to side as little mewls and whimpers slip past your lips, but then your back is arching, mouth gaping wide open as lips wrap around your clit and you scream as they suck on the engorged bud, convulsing and gushing even more as you dive headfirst into your first orgasm of the night. 

Your body is still shaking, eyes still in the back of your head, but you whimper, trying frantically to ground yourself as a hand firmly grasps your chin and urges you to gaze into dark eyes. 

“Tell me how good that felt.” 

“So good, Kiyoomi. So so good.” 

Your voice is slurred, mouth thick and heavy with exhaustion, but your word are good enough for now and you weakly cry as you’re suddenly being turned over, forced to slump down onto your stomach and chest, arms splayed out in front of you as your face rests on the bed, shaky legs barely holding your lower body up as you’re now forced to stand and bend over the edge of your bed. 

You’re not sure how much longer you can keep this position up, but arousal churns inside of you once more when you take a second to realize the position you’re in, ass and glistening pussy on full display for your boyfriend, reduced to nothing but a pair of holes as you bend over and present like a slut. And you whimper, ass automatically pressing back and shaking in want as hands grab onto your hips and something hard grinds against you. 

Any other time you’d be embarrassed to display such wanton behavior in front of your more reserved lover, but it seems like Sakusa is just as impatient as you and you claw at the sheets, grappling for purchase when he slams balls deep inside of you in one swift motion. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, not that you need much assistance considering how drenched your pussy already is, and you wail as he starts up a brutal pace, fingers digging into your skin as he holds you still while his hips thrust back and forth.

The pleasure is mind numbing and you can feel the sheets underneath you begin to soak with your drool as your jaw remains slack. But you need more and one of your hands slips down between your legs, searching for the little bud at the apex of your thighs, only to be briskly slapped away and you turn your head to complain, only to collapse back down and scream in the sheets as Sakusa swiftly replaces your wandering digits, rubbing and circling your clit. 

Your legs are trembling, stomach tightening as something hot coils and slithers inside of you, body tensing as arousal builds up to a crescendo inside of you, the lewd sounds of Sakusa’s balls slapping against your ass with every thrust echoing throughout. But as you teeter totter on the edge once again, you’re dragged back to the present when a hand sharply smacks your ass. 

“Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You, Kiyoomi! You!”

“Can anyone else make you feel this way?”

You can barely register the words, struggling to make sense of the questions he’s suddenly pouncing on you, desperate for release and being used. But you’re silent for too long and you howl as you’re punished with two more harsh smacks. 

“Answer me.” 

“NO! No one except you. Kiyoomi, please, please, please, please…”

You’re babbling at this point, incoherent wanton ravings of more, please, and Kiyoomi drowning the air, and you think you might start sobbing in pain and denial if he doesn’t give you what you want, willing to degrade and lower yourself to pleading and begging. But Sakusa takes mercy on you, satisfied with your answers, and you gratefully begin to loudly moan again as he chases his own end, dragging you along with him. And all it takes is a few more stuttered thrusts and more coaxing of your clit to have you falling apart underneath him once again, and the clenching and convulsing of your tight soft walls has him tumbling down after you, painting your insides white. 

You really do begin to collapse to the ground this time, trembling legs unable to stand anymore, but strong arms are there to catch you and your body goes limp in relief as you’re gently laid fully onto the bed and pressed against a comforting warm hold as Sakusa lays beside you, letting you nestle further into him and tuck your head under his chin in a way that makes you feel safe and loved. 

It’s a few moments before you can even begin to reassemble yourself, but when you do, it’s your turn to nudge a handsome face into making eye contact with you and you gently pepper Sakusa’s face with soft butterfly kisses as you urge him to finally explain what all that was about, reassuring the guilty and embarrassed countenance that it’s fine, both of you are fine, and everything is going to be fine, no matter what he says. 

You listen attentively, stroking long wavy locks as he hesitantly tells you about the incident in details, scowling and holding your lover even more fiercely to yourself when he repeats Atsumu’s vicious words, murmuring reassurances to him about how you only have eyes for him and even if you ever did leave him (you wince when he glares and bodily wraps around you like a serpent), it sure as hell wouldn’t be for a snot-nosed arrogant prick like Miya Atsumu. 

He loosens his grip on you, appeased by the way you affectionately drown him in kisses and nuzzles as he continues on to recount the rest of the day’s events, but he stares askance at you when you burst into laughter as he tells you about the fight that had almost broken out, that he had almost started, peering at you questioningly and unamused, unsure what you could possibly find so funny about the situation or his atrocious handling of the matter. 

And then he’s full on glaring at you as you relentlessly tease him for his childish impassioned reaction to Atsumu’s bitter words, mockingly cooing at him and fluttering your lashes as you call him your big strong hero, breaking into disbelieving cackles every once in a while when you imagine your mature, level headed lover trying to get into a fist fight over some silly words a stupid brat had said. 

But you’re not laughing when you’re suddenly being pinned on your back again, a surprised yelp forced from you as Sakusa sharply nips your earlobe before irritatedly staring you down. 

“Clearly I didn’t work you over well enough if you have enough energy to laugh and make a fool out of me. Let’s change that, shall we?”

[thewritetofreespeech]

MC + Cursed Toddler-fied Boys

prompt: All the boys suffer the same fate as Satan by reading ‘The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization’

Lucifer

You have to wonder why they kept so many cursed books around, just out like this. You would think, like any normal person, with this continuing to happen, that they would keep them locked up or something. But no. They just leave them out for anyone to find….

“I’m going to the meeting!” Lucifer yelled, stamping his foot. His face twist in a petulant frown. It would be rather adorable, if you hadn’t been arguing with him for the past 20 minutes

“Lucifer, we talked about this. You can’t go to the meeting. You need to stay here.”

“No! I wanna go to the meeting! It’s very important and everyone is counting on me!” His arms are wailing now as he stamped his foot more.

Of course, you couldn’t let him go to the first of the month meeting like this. His pride would be wounded beyond compare if anyone else saw him like this. But reasoning with him wasn’t working. You had to resort to more, unsavory tactic to win. “But the meeting was cancelled. Lord Diavolo called earlier to let me know.”

Lucifer stopped stamping his feet and waving his arms to look at you with a vacant expression you didn’t know he could muster. “Really?”

Gods help you. “Yes, really.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment before he beamed, “ok!” His mood instantly brightening. “I believe you, because [Y/N] would never lie to me.” ‘Forgive me Lucifer’ You think to yourself. “What are we gonna do instead then?”

“Why don’t we play a game instead to pass the time? Would you like that?”

“I know chess!” He exclaimed loudly. “Let’s play that.”

Of course, knowing and being good at it were two different things. In this state you were actually able to beat Lucifer several times. When he retuned to normal the day was ‘conveniently’ put away for sometime after.

Mammon

“Mammon. Please. I’ll just be gone for a minute.”

“Nooooooo!” Mammon wailed when you tried to get up again. Clinging to your waist tightly to keep you on the couch. “Onii-chan said you had to stay with me! Stay with me! Stay with me!”

After reading The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization, Mammon had, of course, reverted to the personality of a small child. His brother made fun of him, say ‘what’s the difference’, but Lucifer knew that this could be a disaster if he was set to wander free in this state across the Devildom. So he sat you to babysit him.

“Mammon, I promise I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get us some snacks for our movie.”

“Then let me come with you!” He whined, still clinging to you. In this state it seemed he had also taken on the personality of a baby duck. Imprinting on you and following you around everywhere you went in his room. He hadn’t left you alone for 5 seconds since he got this way. “I promise I’ll be good!”

“It’s not a question of you being good or bad Mammon-chan.” He liked to be called Mammon-chan right now. “It’s that you need to stay here. If someone sees you like this well…they could use it to tease you.”

“No…I don’t want to be teased anymore….” His voice was low, and sad. His bright eyes looking on the verge of tears, like kids do when they’re said, before he buried his face into your side. “Mammon-chan doesn’t want to be made fun of anymore. Mammon-chan also doesn’t want to be alone anymore.”

You sigh. Unable to argue with him when he was like this. Your hand lifted to pet his head, which he seemed to appreciate, before you text Satan to bring you some snacks. He was always reliable and would do it for you.

Once the affects of the book had worn off, Mammon denied any of this happening. The mere mention would cause his face to turn red and yell about how, “that didn’t happen!” You almost wish you had taken a video of it to show him. Guess you would just have to keep Mammon-chan forever in your heart.

Levi

You went to Levi’s room after class to check on him in his….condition.

Since he did remote learning a lot of the time, being an otaku, it was pretty easy to keep him away from people so they did see him in the current state he was in. Apparently as a toddler he didn’t like being around people either.

So, you had set him up comfortably in his room before heading to class. Promising to come back that afternoon to be with him.

“Levi! I’m back! How are you—what are you doing?!?!”

“Playing with my toys.” Levi replied, with an obvious expression, as a sea of toys stretch out in front of him where he laid on his belly on the floor.

Your brain stopped. Completely at a loss for words. Levi was going to kill you when he returned to normal, because toddler-Levi, left unattended, had unboxed nearly all of his figurines from their packaging. Some of which were incredibly rare, and unable to get anymore.

“I just…I mean…Why?? Why would you do this??”

“They’re my toys.” Levi replied with a pout. Sitting up. “I can do what I want with them. What’s the point in having neat toys if you aren’t going to play with them??”

He did have a point there. But adult-Levi was going to be so mad!

“Do you want to play with me?” The demon asked with a hopeful expression. “You can even be blue Ruri-chan.” The limited edition, color swap Ruri-chan from 1999. He was gonna blow a gasket!

“Yeah. Ok.” But then again, when were you ever going to be able to touch them again.

As expected, Levi totally lost it when he came to his senses. Of course, there was no one to blame but himself, in the end, so he just had to be upset and mope alone. Thankfully, none of them were broken or beyond just out of their originally packaging. He bought them all clear showcase boxes for his ‘ruined’ figurines. Some of them he could rebuy to replace; which seemed to make him happy to have two.

Satan

It had been hours since the affects of the book had taken ahold of Satan. You were starting to wonder if they would ever wear off.

Lucifer had left in search of another book, one that might help speed the process along, and left his younger brother in your care. Of course you were happy to help, but you were getting nervous you would never see the old Satan again.

“[Y/N]-chan?” You look up from your phone, waiting for Lucifer to text you back, to see the blonde demon looking timidly at you from around the corner. 

“What is it Satan?”

“Would you….read to me?” His hands holding out the small children’s book he had some how found in the piles of books covering his room.

You smile softly at him. Your heart warmed by his request. “Of course,” you tell him, and the demon scampered over to sit on the bed beside you. His long legs and body tucked neatly into you as he waited for you to tell him the story of a little lost chicken and it’s journey back home. “[Y/N] tells the best stories!”

After 3 stories, he had fallen asleep. When he woke up, Satan was back to normal. He doesn’t answer your questions on where the children’s books had come from, but you spot the red & gold spines on his book shelves sometimes.

Asmo

There was no denying that Asmo was fascinated by art and all things beautiful. He went on and on about it any chance he got. So you shouldn’t have really been surprised when his toddlerfied self just wanted to draw all day.

“Look, look [Y/N]-chan! I finished another one!”

“That’s great Asmo.” You praise. Just like you had done with all the other ones he had handed to you. “Wow! This is really great! Is that a….chicken?”

“No, silly! That’s the white horse for our carriage when we get married!” The demon beamed, then shuffled over on his knees to instruct you on his picture properly. “That’s you, and that’s me. That’s the princess carriage that’s going to ride us off into the sunset. That’s Solomon and Simeon throwing flowers at us. That’s my brothers crying because I got to marry [Y/N]-chan and they didn’t.”

“You certainly seem to have all the parts here.” You praise. Giggling at his enthusiasm and picture.

“I want to have a perfect picture of when we get married. Because I love [Y/N]-chan! And we’re gonna get married and live happily ever after.” He replied, with certainty, with a smile.

“Well, I’ll be glad for that. Why don’t you draw me our perfect house for after we get married?” Asmo scampered off and did just that.

When Asmo came to, and back to his normal self, he took all the pictures he had drawn and framed them. Forcing his brothers and Solomon to take a tour of his mini-art gallery. The piece ‘Marriage of Two Bonded Souls’ was met with some controversy.

Beel

Beel, in his younger days, seemed to have boundless energy. Or you at least had to assume he did, because ever since he had read that stupid book he had been running around.

Lucifer had told you to take him outside. Irritated at hearing his large feet clump around the house, but trying not to show it since it wasn’t his fault. He even let you both take Cerberus outside to help run Beel out. It would be good for the pup too. Get some exercise, he said.

That had been sometime ago, and it seemed baby-Beel and Cerberus were an even match in energy. They had been running around, chasing each other, and play fighting in the back yard all afternoon. You were tired just watching them.

“Beel! Do you want to come in? I think it’s time for a break.”

Both Beel and Cerberus pop their heads up, in a comical and adorable unison head tilt, before jogging over to you. “Break time means snack time right?!”

You chuckle a little. Somethings never changed. “I brought some apple slices & peanut butter for you, for now. We can get you something bigger when we go inside.”

Beel grinned and sat in the grass with the container. “I like apple slices!”

“You do hn?” You don’t think you’ve seen Beel eat an actual fruit on its own. It was usually attached to, baked in, or covered in something, to get him to eat it.

“Yep! They’re crunchy and sweet. Just like you! Though, I guess you aren’t crunchy. Do you want one of my apple slices [Y/N]?”

You blush a little at Beel’s bright, unwavering expression. How could he look so innocent while still looking like that?

He finished his apple slices, minus one, before asking if he could go play again. You let him, but then all of a sudden he spotted playing with Cerberus and stood straight up. Seeming confused on how he got out here and what was going on. “Did I eat an apple? I haven’t had one since….do you think we have more in the kitchen?”

Belphie

It was honestly hard to tell if Belphie was under the spell of the forbidden book or not. He’d been asleep for most of the time; which was not uncommon for him. Then he would wake up and whine a little about something; again, not uncommon for him. Then he would take another nap.

You had figure out that he was still under it’s spell by the requests he was making when he woke up. Juice boxes. More plushies. His ‘blankie’. Eventually it would run its course though, and Belphie would be back to his own sleepy eyed, grown up self. “[Y/N]?”

You walk over to the bed when the demon called your name. The boy half sitting up, but still tucked under his covers. “What is it Belphie?”

“I can’t sleep.” He stated. Which seemed ridiculous since he had been sleeping most of the day. “I miss Lilli. And Be-be. Can you sleep with me?”

You blink at little at the request. You supposed it made since. Kids often wanted someone to sleep with them, so they didn’t have bad dreams or could keep them safe. Maybe that’s why he had been sleeping so much. Because he hadn’t been sleeping well, just sleep.

“Sure Belphie. I’ll lay down with you.” The demon smiled softly, sleepy, before he scooted over to give you some space to lay next to him.

He slept for a while this last time. Clinging onto you in his sleep, with a soft smile on his face. When he woke up, it seemed he was back to normal. “Gosh [Y/N]. If you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to trick me with that lame book.”

[luminnara]

Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | Lost Boys x OC  CH 1

Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie

Also posted on AO3

My requests are open!

Chapter one | Chapter two

Warnings: Blood, gore, smut, all that good stuff

Vera had been to a lot of cities, some of them twice, some of them three times, some even more, but none of them were quite as unique as Santa Carla. The boardwalk was crawling with lost souls, kids with nowhere else to go, and she was one of them; no family to call her own, no real friends, barely any possessions…Vera was a wanderer, a lone soul, a lost girl. She drifted from town to town, hanging around for a day or two if nothing interesting happened before moving on...and honestly, nothing very interesting ever happened. 

Sometimes she took the bus, if she had the money from odd jobs or pick pocketing her meals, but for the most part, she was left to her own devices. She traveled on foot when she had to, avoiding major highways unless she was feeling up to a fight. During the day, she took refuge under bridges if she was broke, or motel rooms if she had a little cash. If she felt particularly frisky, sometimes she even managed to seduce locals into helping out, but for the most part, she only had herself as company, traveling by night for no reason other than an insatiable wanderlust and nobody else to spend her time with.

Nothing had ever held her in one place. She had started traveling a long time ago, when she realized she had no reason to stay in her hometown. Plus...people started to grow a little bit suspicious when they noticed too many bodies cropping up. The world was changing, and for someone like her, it was best to stay on the move.

After that, it became a habit, and she got used to wandering and never having a place to call home. Did it ever bother her? Sometimes, when she was resting, it did. She could stop and look at the stars, with some kind of foreign aching in her chest, but it was rare that she thought about it. It had started up years ago, and she had forced herself to get used to it. She had never found any cure, and while she lingered around the east coast, it had finally dulled to a strange, quiet pain. A constant throb in her chest, next to her heart, some kind of strange tightness that she was happy to forget whenever she could. It was becoming more frequent, though, as she neared California, and she chalked it up to the fact that she had been alone and hungry for far too long.

She would have to do something about that soon. She hated feeling hungry.

Vera hopped off the bus when it stopped in Santa Carla, a coastal town that boasted a crowded boardwalk and just the kind of nightlife she needed. From the road, she could see the bright lights of a Ferris wheel and even a roller coaster, and she couldn’t help but smile. She had always liked fairs and carnivals. They were fun and exciting, and good places to pickpocket. Plus, the chaos made it easier for her to go unnoticed.

At the bus stop, she was greeted with boards and telephone poles covered in missing persons ads, and it was an oddly comforting sight. She would fit right in.

“Murder capital of the world, huh?” she said to herself, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She had seen the graffiti on the back of a big WELCOME TO SANTA CARLA sign on the way in, and the flyers only added to the town’s reputation.

Yeah, this place was worth checking out.

The pier was bright, neon signs and carnival rides lighting up the night. Kids and adults alike were enjoying their summer, stuffing themselves with treats or screaming their way around the roller coaster. It all looked fun, she had to admit, and maybe once she had a chance to grab some cash she could hang around and enjoy herself. She could use a break from running constantly, and she was finding that the boardwalk was already making her happy. 

As she walked through the crowds, Vera spotted every kind of person, from middle aged parents toting along a family of four to dirty vagrant children to punks to a couple of weird kids lurking around the comic book store. There were pizza places, cotton candy carts, all sorts of dine in restaurants and bars...Santa Carla seemed like it had everything, but mostly, it was a good place for someone like her to spend some time. 

She sat herself down on a railing, trying to ignore the hunger pains she was feeling as she people watched. Beyond the homeless kids and the weirdos, the boardwalk was full of partygoers, and it looked like summer vacation was in full swing. There were a million smells in the air—cigarettes, weed, funnel cakes—but none of them really caught her attention. She let out a sigh, leaning her chin on her hand. She hated being indecisive about dinner. 

“Ugh, Surf Nazis,” a woman whispered to her friend as they ran by. 

“Gross,” the other wrinkled her nose.

Vera looked past them to the men that were shouting about their asses as they left and she snorted. 

“What’s wrong, girls?” One of them yelled. 

“Come back, we’ll show you a good time!” Another cackled, tossing an empty beer can over his shoulder. 

Vera rolled her eyes. Disgusting, pathetic creatures, all standing around a trash can as they smoked. They smelled awful, she realized with a wrinkle of her nose, and it wasn’t just from their smoke. They were nasty, leering at girls and laughing loudly with each other when the women they were bothering scampered away. 

Well, they weren’t her first choice, but at least she had found a meal.

She hopped off the fence and sauntered in their direction for a moment before turning, giving them just enough time to notice her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them perk up, and before long, all four of them were following her through the crowd, shouting profanities as she made her way down to the pier. 

“Hey baby, where you goin’?” one yelled, jogging to keep up with her pace. 

Vera looked over her shoulder. “Down under the boardwalk...unless you’re chicken.”

She heard a chorus of hoots and whistles and grinned to herself. Men were so easy. 

“I call first dibs!”

“I wanna piece of that ass!” Another yelled.

They always did. Vera was a short girl, only around five feet tall, and stocky. She carried her weight in her legs, giving her thick thighs and a round butt that could never quite stay covered by the denim shorts she loved to wear so much. 

Boys liked the way she looked. They liked how she seemed so easy to grab, so soft, so touchable. As the Surf Nazis followed her down the rickety stairs to a secluded spot under the boardwalk, their hands were already moving, unbuttoning pants and reaching for Vera as if they were entitled to her. She smiled sweetly as she backed into the shadows, cooing for them to follow, grinning sickly when they obeyed. They always did, like lambs to the slaughter, never clever enough to recognize her predatory gaze and dangerous movements until it was too late. 

Sometimes, if they were lucky, they could catch a glimpse of her bra or panties before it was over, but tonight, Vera had little patience for the dirty fingers that tried to pull her shirt off and her shorts down. Their faces leered down at her, even in the darkness, grunting as they palmed themselves through their pants.

She gave them a second to enjoy it before her lips twisted into a sick grin and she reached for them, nails like claws and teeth like fangs. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of their screams, but the waves crashing against the sand drowned the grisly noises out. As she tore into them, she laughed, loving the way they were so terrified now that they had completely lost any sense of power over her.

 Boys always liked the way she looked, until she was covered in their friends’ blood.

-o-

David was having a boring night. 

His boys were under control for the time being, lounging on their bikes next to him. Paul and Marko were laughing loudly, occasionally punching each other just for the hell of it, and Laddie was reading a comic as he clung to Dwayne. Star had decided to stay home for the night, and nobody was complaining about that; at the thought of her, David growled to himself, grimacing at the reminder of the troublesome bitch. Max had wanted a daughter and a good mother for Laddie, and what had they ended up with? A mopey, whiny little cunt who refused to kill and feed like everyone else.

Feed...damn, he could go for a snack. He could practically taste blood in the air as he thought about grabbing a bite, fangs threatening to lengthen. He hadn’t even thought he was that hungry, but now that he was thinking about it, it was bugging him, and when David got the urge to feed, there were very few things that could stop him. The hunger would sometimes gnaw at him the way it did a newborn, and even Max was occasionally put off by it. It was something he expected from a younger vampire, like Marko, maybe, but David? His appetite could be insatiable, truly monstrous in a way that most others’ weren’t. 

The boys picked up on his hunger and he heard a few growls of agreement before he nodded for Dwayne to take Laddie back to the cave. The kid was never allowed to go with them when they hunted, and Dwayne was capable enough to grab something for himself if he didn’t catch up with them. Ever since Laddie had gotten his pesky little hands on their bloody wine bottle, they had been stuck with him, and if Dwayne hadn’t turned out to be so good with the kid, David would’ve been irritated beyond belief. 

It all worked out, though, and Laddie fit in well with the rest of the group. David just had to keep reminding himself to be patient. 

“Anybody catch your eye?” Paul asked as his brother took off down the beach with their youngest member.

“Absolutely fucking no one.” David sneered.

The tall blonde straightened up to sniff the air. “Get a whiff of that, though…”

David paused, mimicking Paul. He was right. There was a metallic scent on the breeze, the sweet smell of fresh blood. It made him thirsty, and as he led Paul and Marko down the boardwalk, it only grew stronger.

“Shit,” Marko mumbled as they started down the stairs to the beach. Once they had broken free of the crowd, the scent had hit them like a train, and even David was having trouble controlling himself.

“Careful,” he warned, voice coming out with a ragged, heavy breath. 

Murders happened in Santa Carla all the time, and not only because of the Lost Boys. It was a rough place, full of drugs and vagrants, and the violence only helped them blend in. Someone had probably gotten themselves in trouble under the boardwalk, and at this point David was just hoping that the killer was still around to sate his hunger. They never fed from corpses, so stumbling across them never yielded any good results unless they were in the mood to rip them apart for shits and giggles.

David was not in the mood.

He led Paul and Marko off the stairs and through the sand, hurrying now as the blood filled his senses. It was so fresh, and there was so much of it...this wasn’t normal, even for the murder capital of the world. What kind of sadistic human would cut someone up enough to spill so much blood? What the fuck was going on under his boardwalk? Sure, it was something he would do, but other than his boys, who could possibly be that brutal?

It was in the shadows of the pier that he finally got the answers to all of his questions. 

Just like the blood had, her scent hit him like a freight train. He could tell Paul and Marko were just as confused by the way they stopped and hissed, fangs already out as they looked down at the bodies littering the sand. It was a gorey scene, throats and stomachs ripped open, Surf Nazis gutted with their pants down. 

And in the middle of it all, she had the audacity to glance up at David, and then completely disregard him as she turned back to her final victim. She wasn’t worried in the slightest about the three males, and that pissed David off a little. When he would have snarled a warning at her insolence, he found himself distracted instead, head tilted and lips parted as he drank in her scent and checked her out.

She was wearing shorts that barely covered her bloody legs, ratty combat boots on her feet and an equally ratty denim vest over a ripped up black shirt. Her ebony hair was cut into some sort of shaggy mullet,  falling around her shoulders. It was long and wavy and glossy, but tousled and messy, no doubt thanks to feeding. 

He could only stare in shock at the black-haired girl that was feasting on a Surf Nazi. He couldn’t decide if he was angry at someone else hunting on his turf or happy to find a real female vampire, one that wasn’t stupid and whiny like Star, but the one thing he knew for sure as he took a step towards her was that he was just the tiniest bit turned on.

Paul and Marko could both smell the tiniest hint of their leader’s arousal, and it excited them. They weren’t used to supernatural girls, and the thought of getting a turn with her was enough to make the air heavy with the scent of lust as they followed David. 

Paul let out a low whistle behind him. “Shit, first time I wouldn’t mind bein’ a Surfer. I’d take a little of that sugar right now, know what I’m sayin?”

The vampiress lifted her head from her victim and smiled, drunk on blood and high off the hunt. “I don’t usually share meals, but I’ll give you the rest of this one if it gives me a free pass back outta here.”

Paul tensed to take her up on the offer, but David stopped him. “Free pass?”

The girl sat back from the still-whimpering Surf Nazi, blood running down her chin. “Figure you wouldn’t want me in your territory. Sorry. Didn’t realize anybody else was here, else I’d have been moving on already.”

David smirked. “No need, sweetheart.”

She furrowed her brow. 

“It’s feeding time, boys. Grab a snack.” David grinned, allowing Paul and Marko to surge forward and rip into the Surf Nazi. He watched with a twinge of annoyance as Paul turned from his meal and pressed his bloody lips to the girl’s, but that annoyance turned into surprise when she kissed back, albeit lazily. 

She smiled as her lips moved against his, a hand moving to tangle in his wild hair. Fire tore through Paul and he growled, pushing her down until her back hit the sand and her chest touched his as her breaths turned into frenzied pants. 

Hands ran down her sides, hard nails digging into her skin as Paul nipped at her lower lip. With a whine, she arched up against him, tugging at his hair until he snarled.

“Paul,” David growled a warning. 

Paul sat back up with an irritated grumble, licking his lips before plunging his fangs into the Surf Nazi and leaving Vera alone.

David had to admit, he had never met a female vampire that wasn’t stuck in limbo like Star. They seemed rare, or at least they were around California, but Max had always told him that girls of their kind were a special breed. He was already feeling a tug toward her, some kind of something pulling at his chest whenever she moved, and before he knew what he was doing, he was crouching down to suck up the last few drops of blood while his boys turned their attention to the killer.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” Marko asked, playing with a strand of her hair. 

“Vera,” she answered with the sweetest voice either of them had ever heard, practically a purr. 

Paul sighed, leaning in again. He was head over heels already. “What brings you here to our little corner of the world, Miss Vera?”

She blinked, and they were fucking mesmerized by those lashes and those hazel eyes. “Just passing through, boys. Don’t wanna step on any toes.”

Paul groaned. He wanted her to stay. She smelled amazing, and when she had returned the kiss he hadn’t even realized he was giving her, he felt jolts of electricity shoot through every part of his body. 

He wanted more.

“Damn, babe, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he said, holding her face so that he could lick blood off her chin.

“No fair,” Marko nudged his brother. “I want a taste…”

David looked up from the drained corpse, listening as his boys slurred with love drunk voices. Max had warned him about females, about those with foreign sires. They could trap you in a web of lust, keep you dumb and happy there for as long as they wanted, rob you blind and kill your entire family...but somehow, he got the feeling that Vera wasn’t even trying to fuck with them. There was no misty, foggy sensation that would signify magic, no eye contact, no focus. As he rose to his feet, he realized he was walking towards her of his own accord, the only spell being that strange, unspoken one that kept pulling him to her.

He had an inkling of what it could be, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up.

“Got a place to stay, darling?” He asked as he shoved his boys out of the way and knelt before Vera. 

She leaned toward him, a sweet smile on those bloody lips that told him she was confident enough in her ability to handle them all. She was calm, completely in control of herself, even when faced with three healthy male vampires. Her eyes were half-lidded, long lashes fluttering whenever she blinked. 

When her tongue slipped out to lick blood off her lips, David’s eyes widened at the sight of something he had never seen before. It was split in two, each side moving of its own accord easily. Paul let out an eager noise, Marko shoving him with his shoulder to try to get a better look. Vera just laughed at their fascination, pulling her tongue back into her mouth and smiling. 

David could feel her breath on his cheek as she took in his scent and he couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her better than Paul had, to fuck her and hear his name on her lips. He wanted to show her how strong he was, to impress her, to prove himself for some reason. He would kill a hundred surfers if he had to, if it would grant him her favor. He would sit out in the sun and burn himself if it meant he could be hers. 

He had never felt this way about anyone, and it was pissing him off.

Vera laughed to herself. She could smell his desire, and she knew that it was because of her. Just like those Surf Nazis, these vampires wanted her, but at least she liked this little pack. What’s more, that aching in her chest had stopped when they showed up, and she had a feeling she knew why. 

It was a little bit terrifying, though, and she wasn’t about to stop and think about it. 

“What are you suggesting?” She asked, brushing her fingers along his cheek, a smear of blood following. 

“Stay with us,” he breathed, blue eyes locked with hers. 

“Darling, I don’t even know your name,” she quipped, never shifting her gaze. 

“David,” he said with a slight growl as he felt himself getting lost in her eyes. 

“David,” she repeated, voice soft and breathy. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, nose twitching as he smelled the fresh blood in her wrist. It was sweet, sweeter than any blood he had ever encountered before, and all he wanted to do was sink his fangs into her flesh and get a taste.

Vera heard a sigh and finally took her eyes off David. The other two were watching, just off to the side, staring hungrily at their leader and the new girl. 

“And what about you two?” She asked, hand sliding down to the side of David’s neck to keep him in check. She was confident enough in herself to handle him, but at the same time, he put her on edge. There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him yet.

That was the thing about female vampires, though; they had the uncanny ability to always put on a facade, and Vera was no exception. David made her nervous—they all did, honestly—but she wasn’t about to let them know that. 

“Paul,” the tall blonde said quickly, rushing forward as if he would die without her touch. He pressed his nose against her throat, breathing her scent as if he was starving. 

“Marko,” the smaller one followed, desperately reaching out to touch her hair. 

“Paul,” she purred, earning a growl. “...Marko…”

Another growl. 

They acted like they needed her, all three of them, but they were behaving themselves. She had no doubt that if she gave them the go ahead, she would be naked within seconds, but for the moment, they were listening to her. She had never experienced something like this before; usually, other vampires ignored her, or threatened her until she left their territory. These boys seemed to adore her, and she had to admit, she liked it. 

“Paul, Marko,” David said roughly. “Clean up so we can go home.”

With a groan, the younger two did as they were told, dragging Surf Nazi corpses into the ocean before wiping their hands and faces clean. 

“You’re their leader,” Vera said, more as an observation than anything else. “Are you their sire?”

David smirked as he helped her to her feet. “Depends on how you look at it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one way to look at that, David.”

He melted when she said his name, leaning in to catch another whiff of her scent. It was sweet, like honey, sticky and sick, and all he wanted was to drown in it. “What have you done to me, Vera?”

She smiled and took his hand, raising it to lick blood off of his fingers. “Nothing on purpose, I promise.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t mind,” Paul suddenly grabbed her from behind, arms snaking around her waist as he buried his nose in her black hair, inhaling deeply and letting out a happy sigh. The feeling of her there in his arms, pressed up against him, was enough to make his fangs slide out again, and he couldn’t help but swipe his tongue up the side of her neck.

David snarled, snapping only inches from his brother’s face. “Behave.”

“You say as if you are,” Vera snorted, giving David a gentle push and easing her way out of Paul’s grip. “But you boys are all very sweet. I don’t mind the attention.”

“Oh, you have our attention, sweets,” Paul whistled as she turned and bent over to wash her face and hands at the water’s edge, giving them all a good view of her ass. A low rumble rose in David’s throat as he appreciated the sight, and Marko echoed it. 

“So greedy,” Vera mocked as she straightened up again. “Are you this nice to every bloodsucker that hangs out on your boardwalk, or is it just me?”

“Just you, that’s for sure,” Marko said, almost cackling.

“The others aren’t so delicious,” Paul cooed with that signature laugh. 

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer?” Vera said, walking back to them. Now that her arms and legs were clean of blood, they could see that she was covered in tattoos, and David wondered if she had them as a human before she was turned, or if she had found some way to make the ink stay in her regenerative skin.

Paul gave her a cocky grin and David rolled his eyes. His brother was such a flirtatious bastard. He was a lady killer, literally, even more than David was, but Vera didn’t seem to mind his advances. She seemed comfortable with Paul, taking it all in stride.

It made David just the tiniest bit jealous. 

“Come with us.” He said it more as an order than an offer, extending his hand out to her. 

“Unless you got somewhere better to go,” Marko joked. 

“And there ain’t nowhere better,” Paul snickered.

“There aren’t too many places to hide from the sun on a boardwalk,” Vera snorted. She was finally coming down from her high, the thrill of the hunt fading again and giving way to her less monstrous personality. “I was going to have to find a good spot anyways…”

Now that she wasn’t operating solely on instinct, she could take a moment and think about her situation. Three male vampires, none of whom had tried to kill her for stealing prey in their territory, seemed to be absolutely obsessed with everything about her and wanted her to go home with them. One had even kissed her and she had kissed him back, because it had felt so right. She allowed them to touch her, to taste her skin, to share her meal. They were stronger than her, and they outnumbered her, but she still felt like she was...in charge? 

David, the definite leader of the little pack, was looking at her hopefully. His face was stony, but she could see excitement in his blue eyes, and when she smiled, there was a spark of something in those irises. 

“Just don’t kill me in my sleep,” Vera joked as David took her hand and began leading her back up to the boardwalk. 

“No promises,” Marko leered as they followed.

“You look good enough to eat, babe,” Paul growled playfully, lunging forward to cop a feel of her ass. 

Vera only laughed, but David snarled dangerously at his brother, moving his arm to Vera’s shoulders and pulling her against his side. 

“Relax, you big angry beast,” Vera said with a grin, raising her hand to his chin and giving a teasing scratch. 

David huffed and Marko hooted with laughter. “Damn, she’s way more fun than you, David!”

“I dig this chick,” Paul snickered.

“You better share her,” Marko whined.

David smirked as they climbed the stairs back up to the boardwalk. Could he manage that? He only ever shared things with his brothers, but even then, he was terrible at it. Vera had some kind of magnetic pull on him, yeah, and his mouth watered at the thought of keeping her around, but Marko and Paul were both obviously into her...and she was into them. 

She was into all of them.

He needed to talk to Max. He honestly hated having to ask his sire for help or advice, and he avoided it whenever he could. Max had never been very nurturing, despite wanting everyone to act like a big family. It worked out for the boys, sure, but Max was…not a great father. A patriarch, yes, always seated at the head of the metaphorical table, but he was cruel and cold towards David, and he had been from the very start. He thought they all needed a stern hand to keep them in check, and David didn’t like that. 

Still, Max let them run free, and he knew more than David did about their own kind. He was helpful, sometimes, in his own way, and his son was going to have to defer to him. He had questions about Vera, about the pull he felt toward her, and Max was the only one with the answers.

As they returned to the boardwalk and joined the crowd of humans, Vera was pleased to see that the sea of people parted for the boys. They stepped aside, glancing with mixtures of emotions at the little pack. Girls looked dreamy, parents grabbed their children, Surf Nazis raised their lips in sneers. Was it because of their reputation, or did the humans somehow know that they should be afraid of the predators that stalked Santa Carla? She hoped it was both. She hoped that these boys were wild and rowdy enough to rule this boardwalk, and she hoped that they liked her enough to keep her around. 

She glanced up at the sky, a few stars twinkling despite the light pollution from the city. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t itching to hop on a bus or hitch hike to the next town. For once in her life, Something was occupying her mind, and the wanderlust was giving way to another, completely foreign feeling. The ache in her chest was gone, but it was replaced by a strange, burning, almost longing that she had never felt before. It was almost similar to the emotions she experienced during bloodlust, but she was in control of herself. Her fangs weren’t poking through, her eyes weren’t shining...she was happy and her hunger was sated, so where was this coming from? 

She was still avoiding the one train of thought that would bring her to the right conclusion. It was just too much to consider, especially with everything happening so quickly all of the sudden. 

They came to a halt when they reached their bikes, Dwayne already back from dropping Laddie off. From the looks of it, he had grabbed a bite on the way, jeans stained with fresh blood that the humans would just assume was from a fight. 

Vera stopped. There was another male here? She was finding it hard to believe that she had stumbled across a pack of four males without any females, but she couldn’t smell much in the way of estrogen on them. It was just odd; vampires didn’t usually live in bachelor groups like these, but she supposed it wasn’t entirely unheard of. It was just strange that they hadn’t found any girls they wanted to keep around for all eternity.

Most people got lonely eventually. Maybe these four were all actually lovers...but she hadn’t seen any marks that would mean they were claimed, and she hadn’t smelled or sensed anything that would lead her to believe that they were serious.

Odd.

The one leaning against the bike was tall, long dark hair falling around his shoulders and a curious, but serious, expression on his handsome face. She felt frozen under his gaze, uncharacteristically nervous, like a deer in the headlights. It was like he could see right through her, and she didn’t know if she liked that or not.

“Dwayne, this is Vera,” David said as he tugged her along. She found a way to make her legs work again and followed, letting a smile curl its way onto her lips when Dwayne bowed his head to her. 

“And she’s tough,” Marko said, bouncing over to his bike. 

“And she’s gorgeous,” Paul took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss as he passed her.

“I can see that,” Dwayne said, his voice deep and smooth, a seductive smile on his lips. 

David narrowed his eyes, but tried to hide the movement with a smirk. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going to visit Max.”

“Oh, I’ll keep both eyes on her,” Paul winked as he beckoned for her to sit behind him on his motorcycle. 

David rolled his eyes, desperately trying to not make a scene. “Control yourself. I’ll be back.” 

He pressed a kiss to Vera’s head, inhaling deeply before leaving her side and stalking off down the boardwalk. He could already feel his sire tugging questioningly at his consciousness, curious as to why David was so eager to speak to him. His son had always been good at blocking him out, keeping his mind locked down unless he needed something or there was trouble that called for Max’s attention. The others were more open, but Max didn’t have as strong a link with them, and while David was supposed to be his prodigal son, he was so...secretive. Private. Closed off. For him to be willingly heading to the VideoMax store for anything other than annoying him or hitting on Maria out of boredom, something very important had to be going on, and Max was beyond itching to know what it could be. 

“Who’s Max?” Vera asked, joining Paul to perch on the back of his bike. 

“David’s sire,” Marko answered. 

“A grouchy old bloodsucker,” Paul grinned. 

“He runs the video store. He hates it when we crash.” Marko laughed. 

“But...that cashier is pretty cute,” Paul said, thinking of Maria. “I’d love for a bite of—”

He was cut off by the breath leaving his body when Vera wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. 

Marko hooted with laughter at his brother’s reaction and Dwayne let out a chuckle. Paul was absolutely speechless, and Vera wasn’t even making skin on skin contact with him. 

Until she felt him tense, smirked against his back, and slid her hands under his mesh shirt. 

If Paul could blush, he would have. He would have been a shade past tomato red. The feeling of her fingers running over his abs was all he could focus on for a moment, and all he wanted was to kiss her again, feel her again, maybe get a little tongue action...

“You’re supposed to behave yourself, Paul,” Marko taunted as he caught a whiff of the lust in the air and felt his brother’s excited thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul snarled. “I don’t need this shit from you.”

“I’m just repeating what David said,” Marko said defensively. “You’re the one who can’t keep it in his pants.”

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect little angel?” Paul shot back. “I’m the one with a goddess on his bike, might I remind you.”

Marko scoffed, lip raised in a nasty little snarl. “Not for long, Paul!”

Vera smiled as they bickered. Paul’s arousal hung in the air, but she didn’t mind; in fact, she liked it, and she hugged her arms around him tighter as he squabbled with Marko. She was eager to get back to wherever it was that they called home, and she was eager to sleep surrounded by them and feel truly safe for once. She was used to being alone, and she wasn’t scared of it, but she was always on edge, always ready to run or fight. It made her a light sleeper, and the concept of not having to worry was more tantalizing than any of these boys were on their own. 

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

L.o.v.e.l.e.s.s. generation

Request: Amazing!! Can i ask for a billy hargrove imagine where he and the reader are together and at a party. They separate for like an hour so he goes with his friends for a while and shes with hers and she gets roofied. Steve and nancy try to help her and then call billy and hes a mess trying to get her to throw up and hes just blabbering and crying and mad af. So much angst and then fluff and yeah. 

@peakascum​ i’m so sorry for taking so looooong. 

words: 7.4 k

Summary: Billy has a bad feeling about a party at Tina’s and you don’t trust your gut feeling because of a kiss, Nancy can kick some ass and both, you and Billy, are the kind of people who cry in the shower. 

Warnings: *trigger warning* We have dark shit here, like pls people if any of your friends get too drunk or you think someone has put something in their drink GO TO THE HOSPITAL. Don’t follow the characters behaviour down below.

billy hargrove masterlist

"There’s a party at Tina’s tonight”, you muttered after disconnecting your lips from Billy’s, who had been more than happy on your make-out session in the parking lot of Hawkins High. 

You fluttered your eyes to watch your hot, hot, boyfriend who was perfectly placed between your legs while he kissed you softly. You weren’t sure how Billy kept his glowing tan all year long, especially in Hawkins but you loved how it combined with his blue electric eyes that pierced you every time he watched you. You removed some of the blonde locks falling on his forehead and placed another kiss on his full lips. 

Sometimes you didn’t know how you managed to snatch him. 

He sighed, “I heard, are you sure you want to go?”, he groaned as he tried to chase your lips once more but you stopped him as you jumped from the hood of the blue Camaro. 

“When does Billy Hargrove rejects a party?”, you asked while raising your brows. You picked up your bag from the floor and began fixing your skirt and sweater, you had to be ready for the debate team meeting while he rolled his eyes. 

You smiled but you turned around as you heard a couple of girls from Billy’s friend group nattering about you from afar as they saw Billy pulling you in once more for another kiss. 

See, how could you even start to recount your relationship with Billy Hargrove? it was hard. Not because it was a difficult relationship, but because you two seemed so different from the outside that sometimes people didn’t even believe that you had lasted so long in the first place. Billy and you had been going strong for over eight months now and it felt like you were on cloud nine. 

He was mesmerized by you since his first day of school, he wasted no time in asking you for a date -to the disapproval of his new gang and the dismay of most of the girls at the school- you were elated by it but you said that he needed to do a lot more if he wanted you to say yes. It wasn’t that you weren’t oblivious to Billy’s charm but you knew his type and he was definitely not on yours. 

Billy didn’t seem more than an aggressive jog and you bore those type of guys, they weren’t stimulating and you had learned to value yourself and your time, more than anything else. So, it took Billy time -with a lot of rejected attempts and multiple pairings on classes- to actually get a yes from you. 

And so, you had come to learn that Billy Hargrove was more than he showed and it hit you to the core because you did the same. They were just different acts, both of you were familiar with the fact that people liked to put tags on others, to label them and keep them in a box, they liked making you one dimensional for them to feel comforted in a stupid status quo. And both of you followed swiftly because sometimes is easier to play a role than to be yourself, it’s easier to make people believe you are one thing. Sometimes it was easier to be just a good girl and sometimes it was easier to be just a bully, but you weren’t that and neither was Billy. 

Billy Hargrove wore his heart on his sleeve and no one had noticed that, you instead kept it locked in a safe to survive and no one had noticed that. 

But Billy noticed your lock and you noticed his sleeve, he understood you and you understood him. 

After hours or even whole nights talking to each other, laughing, even crying you finally agreed to go out with him. 

“I always want to do whatever you want to do”, he whispered to your lips as he pressed quick pecks. You sighed into his lips; eyes closed in bliss as his lips touched yours. “Pick you at nine?”

You smiled as you heard him and your lips now were chasing his. 

…

“See you in an hour or so?”, you asked as you opened the door for Tina’s house, Billy was behind you. Both of you were analyzing the scene in front of you. 

There were a lot of people, far more than what you were expecting but it was the last Friday before Thanksgiving break so you kinda got it. Many of the kids that went away for college were coming back to see their families and since Tina’s parties were always a staple of Hawkins High, you knew most of them wouldn’t miss it. So, there it was: an ocean of sweaty and drunk teenagers and young adults having fun and blasting music.  

You turned around to see a frown on Billy’s face as he saw the scene while you rolled your eyes. You didn’t really know why he was so opposed to partying when he was always down for any type of rave. 

See, although both of you were so similar in many senses, it wasn’t at all the case when you were partying. Billy was the type of guy who liked the attention, he craved it and he found it most of the time in senseless partying. While you, you were the type of girl who liked to be lowkey about your presence at a party, if you had the attention it was from your amazing dancing skills. Otherwise, you liked to spend your parties taking a few shots, dancing, and talking to your friends; nothing more and nothing less. Billy, instead, liked to do his keg stands and playing games, getting a bit more than tipsy. 

Most of the time you were together months of your relationship you both had made sacrifices, sometimes Billy wouldn’t do his normal circus act so he could be in a more calm conversation with you, and sometimes you had decided to cheer him when he was doing his keg stands or accomplishing the dares his stupid friends wanted him to do.

And it was fine, except for the fact that you had exploded one Monday a few months ago when you heard the rumors about the past party, especially the rumor about the “Queen of Hawkins” and how everyone was beginning to think that you were nothing more than a pretty thing that Billy wore around his arm, an accessory. You hated it, you hated it so much that you had ended up ranting about it to Billy who had been patient and listened to every single word without saying much. 

“I’m fucking captain of the debate team, since when I’m an accessory?”, “I’m running for president of the student council, does it look like I care about being Queen of Hawkins?”, “I’m not clingy or sticking to you all the time, it was just one party!”

And so, you had come up with the party plan. It was really simple: As soon as you got to the party, each one would go and do their thing. Billy would go out and play games while you hang out with Steve and Nancy and Johnathan. If there were any good songs or if you were craving each other presences, you would find each other and would dance for a couple of songs or maybe have a little (long) time out inside any room available where you could moan each other’s name. It had worked on the parties that you had gone to for the last few months and it had been fine, most of the time after you found each other you wouldn’t let go.

Today had to be no different, another party at Tina’s, usual business. 

But you knew it wasn’t, Billy turned around to see you with narrowed blue electric eyes, brows bumped together in a scowl and lips pressed together. 

“Billy?”

“I’m not really feeling like partying”, he muttered as he sighed and took a hold of your waist and pulled your flesh against his. 

Sometimes you were more than sure that Billy’s arms were made perfectly for you, you loved being held by him, and feeling like nothing in the world could hurt you. Being held by his biceps and pressed against him always made your heart skip a bit, you didn’t even think twice as you quickly took a hold of his face and you pressed your lips urgently against his, making you whimper into his lips. It was intoxicating the dance between your lips and tongues, you sometimes even got dizzy after kissing Billy but you were more than happy to get drunk on him rather than on vodka. 

But today you wanted to hang out with Nancy, Johnathan, and Steve, you hadn’t been seeing them much since school started again since, well, Billy was a handful. 

“I’ll see you later sir”, you whispered as you gave him the last peck and walked away from him with a smile on your lips. 

Billy stayed stunned after a few seconds and cursed to himself but he knew that you were in the mood for partying and the least he could do was give you space to be by yourself, to have times with your friends. He didn’t want to admit it but he had taken a lot of your time the past few weeks, he had wanted to take advantage of his father leaving Hawkins for a work trip, so he had spent most of his time buried inside of you or sleeping next to you or laughing with you, etc. And he wanted tonight to be no different, but he also respected you and your wishes. So, although he wasn’t too excited, he managed himself. He quickly threatened his way to get a whole bottle of tequila and went outside where Tommy and Carol were waiting for him already. 

“You look stunning!”, Nancy gasped as she saw you, you twirl so they could give a look at your outfit: A tight black leather skirt, military boots, and a cutout band t-shirt from Billy. 

Steve and Jonathan cheered for you as you moved your hips and Nancy clapped, while you then twirl her around for her to model her outfit. 

“You look stunning all the time!”, you replied as you hugged Nancy. 

“That’s indeed true”, Johnathan muttered as he pulled in Nancy for a kiss on her forehead while she wrapped one arm around him, quickly pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Steve rolled his eyes as he got closer to you, “Are we going to dance?”, he whispered in your ear and it made you shiver. 

You couldn’t lie that you had a thing for Steve when you were younger than you were less than thrilled when he started dating Nancy but as time passed, your feelings had changed and Steve became just a great friend in your eyes. Although, it didn’t mean that sometimes Billy didn’t get jealous of him and how close you two were. But he had come to accept it, as he should, and Steve also started to deal with Billy by your request since he didn’t really like him after he had dethroned him as King of Hawkins. 

“Yes, we are”, you replied and quickly pulled Steve into the living room where everyone else was dancing. 

The way you felt the music cruising through your body made you get lost on it, eyes closed and jumping, swaying your hips to the beat, laughing, and smiling all along. Should I stay or Should I go from The Clash was the tenth song you had danced to with Steve and you were sweating from bopping your head to the last bit, throat a little bit sore from screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs. 

Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. “I forgot how good it was to dance with you, Y/L/N”, you nodded without much breath but you turned around to see one of the boys from Billy’s group watching you with malice. The narrowed eyes and puckered lips weren’t anything new for you, especially from his “friends” or followers, but you knew how much they would like to initiate any rumor that could create any drama in Hawkins since they didn’t have anything more exciting to do. 

“I’m going to get something to drink”, you muttered as you glared at the loser who had been watching Steve and you, but soon he turned to the patio, where you imagined Billy was. 

You rolled your eyes; you knew you had to do damage control with Billy. Although Billy seemed like he had all the confidence in the world, you knew deep down he was insecure thanks to his relationship with his father, and especially, as months had passed by, he was insecure about your relationship sometimes. It seemed to him that you could do so much better and he was perpetually on edge when he thought about you and Steve too much, although he trusted you completely. 

And on your part, it wasn’t too different, Billy had girls throwing themselves at him permanently which was always annoying, girls who whispered at him that they would make him feel so much better than you ever did and that they wished he could make them scream. Billy had assured you and showed you that he only had eyes with you, and it did become funny sometimes because if there was someone in love with his girlfriend was Billy Hargrove. But still, sometimes that burning feeling that crept its way your heart and spread it through your body, making you feel like you could spitfire didn’t go away.

Especially not at the moment. 

Billy was outside, playing a nice game of beer pong and chugging more beer than you thought he would like tonight, but there he was… with Heather freaking Miller. She was leaning into a flustered Billy as she giggled while he poured the beer on his mouth, a little bit too fast that it made the drink spill all over his naked chest -he always lost some buttons or his shirt at some point in a party-, you imagined that he was a bit tipsy at the moment but you couldn’t help to feel your stomach twisting as you saw Heather pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. 

You spun on your heels faster than you could even imagine, not even wanting to watch Billy’s reaction to her kiss and if you had been a bit drunker, you might have been bold enough to start going off at her and Billy. But you weren’t in the mood, to hell if Billy was told something about Steve, whatever. 

“You said something?”, a guy in the kitchen asked you, as you leaned on the kitchen island in front of the living room that served as the dance floor, realizing that you had been muttering out loud. There weren’t many people in the kitchen, the great majority of the people were dancing or outside, but there were two boys. 

You huffed as you turned around and saw the guy. He had short brown hair and a nice smile as he sipped from his red solo cup. He looked familiar and you remember him being a cheer on after a basketball game while you were a Sophomore at Hawkins High and he was a Senior. He was from an affluent family, you remembered that as well as you might have seen him in one of your parent's Christmas parties, but you weren’t social. 

“Do I know you?”, you asked a bit coldly, annoyed still at the image of Heather and Billy. 

“Burn!”, another boy close to the one that had just talked to you shouted as he laughed at his friend. You recognized him too, he was also known as a Senior when you were in Sophomore, he wasn’t on any team but he was on the popular crowd. 

You vaguely remember the class that had graduated that year, only remembered a few bullying incidents but mostly that they were sexist assholes. You hoped that college had changed them, at least you liked to believe people could mature, but seeing them three years later in a party of their high school didn’t give you much hope.

“I’m Brad”, the boy with short brown hair stated as you sighed and smiled, trying to be as polite as you could taking into account how mad you were. “This is Chad”, he said pointing to his friend. 

“Y/N”, you answer as you shook his hand as he had offered it. 

He held it for a bit too long and you felt goosebumps erupting on your skin, but they weren’t good goosebumps, the way he was looking at you was way too intently but you figured that he was trying to flirt and score a girl. 

“Brad! I just…”, another boy came from the living room with a bottle of tequila in his hand as the three of you turned around to watch him, you took the opportunity and removed your hand from his hold as your eyes began to look for some wine or vodka to take to Steve. “Who’s that?”, the same guy muttered as he got closer to Brad and Chad. 

“Shut up, Logan”, Brad rolled his eyes as he saw you reaching for a bottle of vodka, he quickly took it and then handed it to you with a strange smile. “You have to apologize, my friends, they are…”

“Wonderful?”, Logan said with a smirk.

“Charming?”, Chad answer as he seemed to be taking something from his Varsity Jacket, you didn’t manage to see really what he had since Brad quickly placed solo red cups for you to do shots in, blocking the view.

“Annoying”, he stated as he poured a bit of the vodka on two small cups and then passed the bottle to his friends. You smile at the way he said it, the guy had a charm but there was still a hint of something you didn’t like. Something that didn’t add up to his pretty greyish eyes or his sharp jaw. “Want one round?”

You sighed and nodded. At the moment, you only wanted a drink and don’t think a lot about Billy and Heather, you didn’t want to be too mad about it, especially since it was your idea to do a party plan and you left the road wide open for girls like Heather to flirt with Billy. 

It felt like it was your fault. 

“Sure”

The vodka burned your throat a little bit more than you would imagine but you didn’t care. It tasted okay enough and your eyes simply wondered towards the patio door, in the hopes that Billy might come looking for you but there was no sign of him coming. 

“You have a boyfriend?”, you heard Brad asking and you turned around as you passed a hand through your hair. You watched as Brad’s friends began pouring another round of shots with the vodka but your attention went right to Brad again. 

“I do, he’s with another girl at the patio”, you muttered angrily as you took a hold of the shot and chugged it right in. The vodka still burned on your throat but it now felt bubbly, still burned a bit more than before but you figured it was because you hadn’t been drinking in a while.  

“Ooh”, the two friends shouted and it made you roll your eyes, they weren’t being good company and you tried to snatch the bottle of vodka from the table where they had left it but Brad took it first. 

“Let’s do two more rounds, it will make you feel better”, he cooed as he got closer to you. 

If this was any other moment, at any other party, you would’ve said no and leave without a bottle and look for Billy. But the blonde hair from Heather on Billy’s shoulder, his laugh, and her lips on his jaw were burned on your head at the moment and you wished that maybe vodka could help you, you wished that angry drinking would be enough to make you feel better. 

“Fine”, you answer with a smirk and Brad smiled as well, his friends cheering in the background as you chugged another shot that had been served by you. 

It had to be almost four more rounds of shots of vodka -at least you believed but it didn’t taste like vodka after the second- that they had handed to you when you began to feel weird. 

It began slowly, the sleepiness taking over your body, spreading from your belly towards your chest, and soon it seemed to get on your head. It didn’t feel bad right away, simply weird. You were never a hard drinker, you had never blackout before and you weren’t planning to tonight. Getting tipsy? Yes, getting drunk? Maybe, but this felt like it was happening faster than what you had anticipated. 

You closed your eyes and leaned into the kitchen island for a second, trying to recover your breath to see if that was it, you just needed a little break. But as seconds passed, you felt your muscles getting sleepier and even when your eyes were closed, you felt like you were on a carrousel and it wasn’t stopping. 

“You don’t look so good”, you heard Brad said as he wrapped his arm around your waist, which you tried to get off but it seemed as if your muscles were going in slow motion. “You want to go to the bathroom?”

You felt like you could vomit at his questions, it sounded wrong. You shook your head as you opened your eyes and glared at him, motioning for him to let you go and he did, but as you turned around everything began to be blurry. 

“Iwanttodance”, you slurred, words tumbling against each other. You began walking towards the living room, trying to get away from the kitchen while you desperately tried to look for Nancy, Johnathan, or Steve. 

You felt your head getting dizzier and dizzier as each second passed, your brain seemed to be trying so hard for your limbs to move at the pace that you needed them too but they felt disconnected like there was a short-circuit between them.  

You weren’t sure when they had actually disconnected, it had to be a second before you reached the living room by going down simply two steps. It was something you were sure you could accomplish, not even on your worst drunk stories you had been so unaware of your body, you had never felt like that. So, it wasn’t a surprise when you saw the world turning upside down and you felt a sharp pain on the right side of your body, your head crashing on the floor as you closed your eyes from the impact. 

You fell, badly. 

You whimpered in pain as you felt people’s gaze on you, although you had your eyes closed you could feel people’s presence close to you and you wish you could even stand up but it seemed like nothing worked and you could only motion simple things You heard a couple of people laughing, guessing that maybe you were too drunk and were unable to handle your booze. You felt some girls getting closer to you and asking if you were okay but your words weren’t really words anymore, only mumbles, the pangs of pain still spreading through your torso, hips, and legs while the numbness started to spread as well. 

 It was even getting hard to keep your eyes open for too long. 

Before you knew it, someone was wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you off the ground. You prayed it was Billy or Steve, with Nancy by their side or even a couple of the girls who had been asking if you were okay. 

“Seems like she’s ready to go to sleep”

You froze as you heard Brad’s voice and a deep feeling of panic started invading your body. You protested, at least you thought but your words didn’t come out from your mouth, your eyes were still close as the pangs of pain from the fall were disappearing quite quickly, which made you worry. 

Brad quickly took a hold of your body and carried you bride-style to god knows where, you suddenly felt your stomach sinking as you realized how weak you were and the fact that you were in the hands of strangers. Sleepiness crawling over your body and anxiety too, everything began to become foggy. 

“We’ll take care good care of you” Logan stated as you felt the music farther and farther away.  

You whimpered in protest as you opened your eyes as you tried to shimmy yourself out of his hold but it just came as spams on your limps, nothing strong enough and it seemed like they were going through the foyer, towards the door. 

“Stop”

Nancy’s voice felt like it had been sent from the sky, you tried to turn your head as quickly as you could and there she was.  “Who are you?”, she asked as she got closer to you. 

You knew Nancy might be little, she might have been a little mousy when you met her but she was fierce and she could end anyone who came on her way. Such a small girl could raise hell if she decided to and you felt like crying with happiness when you -in a blur- watched her crossed her arms across her chest and glare at the guys she was standing in front of.

“She’s feeling bad”, Brad explained with a shrug but the sassy nature of his answer gave him away to Nancy, “She had a lot to drink and she told us to get her home”

“She has a boyfriend for that”, Nancy replied right away angrily. “And friends that know her”

“We are her friends”, he barked back and it made you jump on your inside. 

These guys were aggressive, the way that he answered to Nancy… you felt like tears were pooling in your eyes. This was not okay and panic raised again, flooding your body. You needed Nancy to take you away from their paws, now. You didn’t want to think where this was going if she didn’t manage to stop them. 

“Nancy” you managed to mumble and with all the effort you had, you tried to take a hold of her but your arm gave up before you reached her, soon your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your head fell backward.

You were too weak. 

Nancy froze for a second with fear as she saw your state, and so hell was loose. 

“Get her down now!”, Nancy’s growl made your body tremble, it was so loud that you were hoping that anyone else noticed. 

“Fuck you”, Chad replied as you heard a struggle in front of you… they were holding Nancy now as Brad began to move again, your heart sinking 

“Her boyfriend is being called right now!”, Nancy yelled as you could hear her struggling while you passed in front of her. 

The cold air hit you hard and you cried as you tried to move from Brad’s hold but he wouldn’t budge, they had managed to sneak you and this was the worst-case scenario. Billy was the only thing you thought before your brain began to shut down when you began to drown in the darkness. 

“We shouldn’t have given her so many”, Logan muttered as he opened the door of the car that was parked in the front patio of Tina’s house, close to many others. 

“Can you just shut up?”, Brad growled as he tightened the hold on your body, and tried to see how he could fit you in the car correctly. 

“Maybe it’s better”, Logan muttered as he opened the driver’s door, still talking to himself. “She won’t remember anything”

“WHERE IS SHE?”

The growl coming from the main door from the house shook Brad and Logan to the core. They both turned around to see Billy, exiting the party with Steve and Nancy behind him. 

Billy had been trying to get a Heather Miller off his back since he had started to play a beer-pong match, it had all been easy and messing around until Heather had come in and began to linger closer to Billy each time he drank. She had placed a kiss on his jaw when he had barked at her to back off, people began to laugh around them and scream things, Heather seemed to be annoyed by the statement and tried to talk him out of being so aggressive. Billy remained silent and shrugged her off each time she tried to flirt with him again, it was annoying to him and he knew that his friends would take any chance to start a rumor that could affect your relationship. So, the rest of the time he tried to get as far away from Heather as he possibly could, he even flipped her off before Steve had run towards him and ask him to go with him.  

Billy felt as if a black hole had grown in his stomach as Steve told him what had happened, that some guys were trying to take you somewhere and that you were barely conscious, that Nancy was trying to hold them back but you needed him now. 

Billy wasn’t exactly sure how fast he had arrived, how he didn’t even notice the guy on the floor that Nancy had managed to beat up with a flower vase at the foyer or how he couldn’t hear anything because his heart and breathing were so loud that he could only focus on what he saw. 

And there you were: completely limp, head falling from Brad’s arm, eyes rolled back on the back of your head. You seemed so small; it shook Billy.

Sometimes Billy had these gaps in time when he became so mad that he didn’t feel like himself anymore, he could only feel the anger filling his body as the seconds passed. It was almost automatic when his hands formed into fists and he began to growl. You had talked to him about it and had helped him to never lose control again since you began dating, helping him breathe and control his emotions. 

But not this time. 

Billy yelled as he took Logan first. The guy didn’t even have a second before Billy yanked the keys out of his hands and smashed the boy’s head against the window of the car. Billy didn’t really notice when the window cracked, he only noticed when it broke in front of him as he smashed once again Logan’s head. 

Logan fell on the ground with a groan, blood coming out of the right side of his face, laying with the broken glass on the floor. Billy then turned around quickly to go and get you, Brad had already been cornered by Steve and Nancy while Johnathan tried to rip you off from Brad’s hold. 

“HEY!”, someone yelled as he pushed Billy making him slam against the car door. 

Billy turned around to see Chad, nose already bloody from Nancy’s punch and more coming out of his eyebrow cut thanks to the vase. The guy was already beaten up by Nancy, badly, but Billy didn’t hesitate to beat him to a pulp with his fist. It seemed rather like a gap of time where Billy had no control, as his knuckles slammed against the guy's jaw while he screamed in pain. Chad managed to punch Billy on his ribs but Billy quickly retaliated and knocked him out with a single punch. 

Billy’s breathing was too shaken up, he almost couldn’t even hear how Nancy had been telling him to stop as he kept kicking the guy on the ground. It was only until Nancy hit him in the back of his head, rather hard, that he turned around. 

“We got her”, Nancy yelled at him as she glared at Billy. She didn’t seem too shaken up, her hands were bloody as well and her eyes seemed steady. 

Billy’s eyes traveled to Steve who had you in his arms while Johnathan let Brad fall from his hold against the car, his nose was already bloody, as well as his lips. But at the moment, Billy didn’t care about anything else, he got closer to you so quickly that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

“Y/N”, he whispered as tears began to stream from his face. 

You didn’t respond, your eyes with long lashes were closed while your arm was dangling. You were cold, you usually got cold as Billy would work as a heater for you, but right now you were too cold. 

It hurt. 

Billy swore he had heard something breaking inside of his chest, he sucked in a breath as he pressed your cheek with his palm as if in any moment you would open your eyes again, that you would watch him lovingly and place a kiss on his lips like many times before but you didn’t react, you seemed lost. 

It hurt him so much that when he heard a groan coming from the floor, he saw Brad there with barely any real damage on him. Billy felt his muscles tensing up as he walked towards him, ignoring Nancy’s pleas. Billy seemed like a robot as he quickly opened again the door of the car and place Brad’s hand on the edge, without much thought, he shut the door roughly.

“aaaaAAHHH!!”

The painful scream coming from Brad’s lips shocked Nancy and Steve, and even you in your state. The scream had been the only thing that had managed to make you come back from the darkness, you couldn’t really move but your body was screaming for something to happen but your limbs seemed useless. 

Billy quickly kneeled and punch Brad again, making his nose bleed even more. The groans and whimpers coming from Brad didn’t bother Billy, it only bothered him when he wrapped one hand around Brad’s neck and he noticed his knuckles already getting purple. 

He hated being like this. He knew you would disapprove if you had been there watching him but the rage that he was feeling at the moment, he hadn’t felt it in such a long time that if he thought he remained still, he would burst. 

“I see you or your rat friend’s again, and I’ll kill you”, Billy murmured as he let go of Brad’s neck and allowed him to breathe again as he coughed thanks to the pressure Billy had on him.

Billy turned around to see Nancy, Steve, and Johnathan looking terrified, he tried to shake it off and came back to you. 

“They must have roofied her”, Johnathan explained as Billy was desperately trying to wake you up. 

“Y/N, please are you there?”, Billy couldn’t believe it was his voice, so wobbly and small as he moved your hair from your face and took a hold of you had, begging internally for you to wake up. 

You couldn’t believe it was his voice either, you wanted to scream and cry, you wanted to be held by him and feel safe again. But you couldn’t do anything, you could only beg your body to move, nudge, talk, do something. 

And it seemed as if it had listened to you for a moment. 

“Billy”, the whisper was so faint that Billy wasn’t sure it was real, he stopped dead on his track and saw how your glassy eyes were half opened and Billy felt his shaking hands coming over to your hand. 

But then you suddenly gave up, the darkness eating you once again as your eyes rolled to the back of your head once more and you were lying there, emotionless. 

Billy felt his body cold. 

“Y/N?”, Billy asked as tears streamed down once more. “Baby?”, Billy’s voice was so raw and shaken up that it almost scared Nancy as he looked at her and yelled. “Nancy, what should we do?” 

Nancy stayed still for a second, doubting herself but then she walked decidedly towards Steve who was holding your body. “We have to check her breathing and her heartbeat”, Jonathan coming right up helping her to check your vitals, while Billy gave a step back and held your cold hand. 

“She’s still breathing, it’s like she fell asleep”, Nancy answered.

“We have to take her to a hospital”, Steve stated as he held you tighter on his arms. 

Billy panicked and shook his head, knowing exactly that -even though your parents had come to accept your relationship- they wouldn’t waste a second if he gave them a reason to break you guys up. 

“Her parents would know; you know they would never let her see me again”, Billy explained to Steve, his eyes pleading with him not to do it because he knew what the consequences were and he might ruin what made you and Billy happy.  

Steve didn’t like Billy, but he had never seen him like this or anyone for that matter. He had never seen such true desperation; he had never seen someone show such raw emotions for someone. He didn’t like Billy, but you did and Steve knew that Billy was everything you wanted. 

“Fuck, what should we do?”, Johnathan sighed as Billy began taking you from Steve’s arms. 

Billy remained a second as he adjusted you in his arms, his arms around you securely as he watched you carefully. You seemed so pale and fragile, and he hated it because he knew that this wasn’t you. He couldn’t get out of his head how scared you must’ve been before you went out, what they had done to you. He wanted to take you to the hospital, he knew it was the most appropriate way but he also knew that he really couldn’t and at that moment he had a flashback to California when people took more pills than they should. 

“She’s going to have to throw this up”. Billy stated as he tried to wipe the tears with his shoulder as he took you into the house, as quickly as he could. 

“Billy, what are yo-”, Nancy protested as she followed him but Billy was on a mission, 

“She couldn’t have taken them too long ago”, he muttered as he entered Tina’s house.

He was shaking as he muttered to himself deliriously: you are going to be okay; you are going to be okay; you are going to be okay. He pulled you closer to his chest and his eyes urgently tried to find a bathroom, people were gathering around him at the entrance of the party, watching Billy splattered with blood and knuckles purple with you limp on his arms. Billy didn’t care about the people as he tried to see where was it better to take you, he even wondered if the kitchen was right but he knew you wouldn’t want anyone to see you or him in that state. 

Tina ran towards him, as she was about to speak Billy interrupted her.

“Tina!” He screamed, his voice was raw and torn -the urgency in his electric blue eyes seemed almost psychotic-, she shook at his scream. “Bathroom with a shower”

“Oh my god, what happened?”, Tina squealed as she tried to get closer but Billy stepped back. 

“Bathroom”, he growled once more startling Tina. 

“Upstairs in my room! Turn to the left”

Billy said nothing as he ran upstairs, adjusting you in his arms as he followed Tina’s instructions. He let out an all-encompassing sigh of relief as he entered the bathroom. 

“Come on, come on baby”, he whispered as he placed you on the tub and then turned on the shower. The lukewarm water began to wash your legs and lower abdomen as Billy hurried and placed himself behind you. 

He made sure that you were well position, laying on his chest so he could sit you, and then he began to place his fingers on your throat. But nothing was happening, you weren’t reacting as he tried to place his fingers on the right spot for you to throw up whatever they had given to you. 

Tears began to fall from his face, a part of him glad they were being masked with the drops of water. Billy felt like he wanted to puke himself as he gazed at the bottom of the bathtub and realized the blood was being mixed with the water -blood from the guys that he had beaten up and his own coming from his knuckles-. 

He shivered at the thought of how badly he had reacted and what would you think of him, but he quickly snapped out of it as he continued to cry for you. 

“Y/N please”, he cried. “Baby please, come on”.

Billy’s voice seemed so broken and raw, his pleas could be heard by Steve and Jonathan who were outside the bathroom while Nancy was talking to Tina outside her bedroom, convincing her not to enter until you were okay. 

But you weren’t okay, nothing was happening and Billy snapped. 

“pLEASE! Y/N”, it seemed as if his screamed had ripped through his chest as he held you, and once more, he placed his fingers on your throat in one last attempt. 

The gagging was like music to his ears, how your body finally reacted and you raised a bit from his chest with the help of Billy and you began to throw up. You felt like if you were getting out every organ inside of you as your body spammed as you threw up with Billy’s face bury on your neck as he held you. 

It wasn’t until you finally stopped after a minute of throwing up everything you could, that you realized that the fogginess and darkness that had trapped you were leaving, your head was clearing again and Billy felt like he could breathe. It wasn’t like you were completely fine, your breaths were still raggedy but they were stronger than before and you could raise your head for a second, hold yourself. 

You could hold yourself enough to throw up once more, another round, but this time it felt more like a reaction of the fear that you felt from those guys. You didn’t want anything inside of you, nothing from that night, the thought of those guys made you sick. 

It wasn’t until you were unable to throw up anything else, you turn around softly, still feeling woozy. 

And there he was, the only one you had ever wanted. 

Billy’s hair was wet, the streams of water were still falling from his body but you recognize his tears as well. His blue electric eyes that had always been heaven to you, were red from crying and his usually tan skin seemed as white as a paper, completely pale, he looked terrified. 

Indeed, Billy was terrified but he tried not to show it as he caressed your hair and help you lay more comfortably on his chest. It was only when your eyes connected and you took a big breath that you began to cry. The tears were streaming without control from your eyes and it seemed like before, you just wanted to feel empty and clean and safe. Billy held you as close to him as he could while you sob.

He kissed your head, he kissed the back of your neck and your hands as you whimpered and tried to hold anything from him, the craving of him becoming stronger every second. 

“Hold me”, you slurred and Billy nodded, wrapping his arm around your body as you cuddle against him while being wash with the water. 

“I’m so sorry”, Billy whispered as he rocked you back and forth. “I’ll never leave again”

His voice sounded so truthful that you began to think that he meant something for good, so permanently that it made your heart skip a bit but you didn’t want to say anything, you simply nodded and leaned into him even more, burying yourself against his chest. 

“I love you”, he whispered. 

[mizunetzu]

Lovely tags: @xstar-kidx @shiny-bun @runawayvictorianchild @tea-whore @mixijima @fudobaby @fa1ryblood4 @shawwniebinnie @2o77danilopez @cha-boi-after-dem-kneecaps @vincent0kirishima @dxcter @li-xero-x

——————

Kuroo x reader - ...Yet it Happened Again (you did once pt.2)

⚠️Warnings - Bokuto running around without underwear so his pants and his asscheeks prolly stank, none

Pronouns - he/him

You can find part one here!

——————

“I never stood a chance, did i?” Kuroo chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, one that made (Y/n) want to cry as well.

“That’s the sad part.” (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line, turning it into a smile connotated with pity.

“You did once.”

(Y/n) rubbed at the back of his head, trying not to suffocate in the aggravating silence that consumed the air. He looked off to the side, looking to the ground where his feet stood, then kept his gaze trained on his feet.

He didn’t want to see Kuroo’s face again. Not because he was uncomfortable that he liked him, no. He was sure they’d be good buddies again in a few days. He just didn’t want to see that pitiful expression that hung heavy with rejection. Even (Y/n) was an empathetic person.

“We should head back...” (Y/n) said, mumbling into the ground. “Yeah,” Kuroo’s disembodied voice rang, albeit a bit wavy and dry. It twisted (Y/n’s) heart into knots.

(Y/n) pushed off the railing and began to walk away. People would be wondering where they went.

“Are you comi-“ (Y/n’s) voice hitched in his throat.

Kuroo was smiling. His eyes closed, a gentle, warm smile on his face as he held himself with his arms wrapped tightly around themselves. (Y/n’s) furrowed his eyebrows.

Kuroo seemed to notice the gaze of confusion from him, so he looked up. His eyes were gentle, they held no grudge or blame for (Y/n), eyes that respected and adored his decision, even if it was rejection on his part. Some part of him wished Kuroo would be more mad, so he didn’t have to feel so bad about turning down his confession.

“There’s...” Kuroo finally spoke up after what seemed like forever. “...nothing I can really do to change your mind.”

Kuroo’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. Not smirk, but a soft, clad smile. (Y/n) frowned.

“And it made me realize just how happy I am to still be your friend. And I think I’m satisfied with that for now.”

Kuroo hiked himself off the railing as well, not bothering for an answer from (Y/n) and his unreadable expression. He walked past him, before stopping and turning around.

“Thanks for hearing me out, (Y/n). I have my answer now and I can stop stressing, so thank you for that.”

“Let’s go back.”

(Y/n) nodded quietly. He didn’t trust his voice to come out the way he wanted, so he chose to silently follow Kuroo back to the gym.

——

Why did it feel so bad?

He knew rejecting people always felt sort of burdenful, but he never thought about things like that more than a day at most, usually forgetting the whole thing happened after a good amount of time. But (Y/n) found himself thinking about it even three days after his rejection to Kuroo.

Was it because it was his friend who he rejected? His old crush? (Y/n) bounced a volleyball against the ground, before bringing it up into a toss. He tossed the ball absentmindedly as his teammates did whatever solo practice they wanted to do.

(Y/n) hummed to himself. Even though he was confused as to why it felt so bad to reject Kuroo, he wondered why he didn’t take his rejection more heavily even more.

It was a rejection, he should’ve been at least a bit more sad then that. But he was smiling. Kuroo was smiling as (Y/n) so selfishly told him he didn’t love him. God, why did he have to confess so early into training camp?

Maybe it was because he was such a kind person...a kind, kind person. He was lucky to have a friend like that, willing to be happy being friends with someone like him, who broke his heart. So lucky. Lucky that Kuroo was kind and caring and-

The volleyball dropped and bounced off (Y/n’s) face, before tumbling onto the ground and bouncing away. (Y/n) stumbled back with a groan, tripping and falling onto his ass as he tried to regain his bearings. He must’ve been so lost in his thoughts that he forgot he was tossing the ball. He sat and rubbed at his face. It stung, especially since the ball dropped from so high up.

“(Y/n)!”

He heard a voice yell. (Y/n’s) heart swelled. From guilt or from something else, he didn’t know.

In a second Kuroo was standing over him, a worried look on his face. He crouched down to his side.

“Are you okay? That looked like it hurt.” Kuroo gave no time for (Y/n) to answer, as he pulled his hand away from his head and cupped his cheek. He brought (Y/n’s) face close to his own, examining it closely. (Y/n) held his breath, and looked anywhere but him. “Your forehead looks kinda red.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine...” (Y/n) brought his hand up to Kuroo’s wrist to get him to let go of his face, but he held it firm, but with the gentleness of a feather at the same time. His hand was warm. He wished it was cold so his heart would calm down. He wished he would let go already.

Kuroo scanned the gym for the nearest adult. Coach Nekomata was busy being talked off by Karasuno’s coach, so he couldn’t go there. And he’s pretty sure everyone else was busy. Kuroo sighed.

“Get up, I’m taking you to the health office so you can rest.”

In a second, (Y/n) was pulled to his feet and walking towards the health office. Kuroo yelled something over to a nearby coach, who nodded and let him continue to the office.

“Wh-but it was just a bump-?!”

Kuroo held his fingers to his lips. “Dude, I’m bailing you out from practice for a few minutes, the least you can do is thank me.”

(Y/n) let his mouth fall closed. He furrowed his brows with a huff as he walked in silence.

Kuroo Tetsurou is such a kind person.

——

(Y/n) flopped onto the nurse's office’s bed face down, sighing into the dense mattress. It wasn’t even that comfortable, but to a tired volleyball player, it was like laying on warm clouds.

“Air conditioning feels so niiiiiiiice...” (Y/n) sunk deeper into the school-provided pillows, his sweat beginning to cool as the AC blew cold air into the room. Kuroo closed the office door, so no one would catch them ditching, and sat down on the bed next to (Y/n).

He sat there for a few seconds, testing the waters, before slowly laying down beside (Y/n). He looked up from the pillow, an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at Kuroo laying down.

“Am I not allowed to lay down?”

“Well-it’s just—“

“Calm down, (Y/n),” Kuroo chuckled. He shifted from his spot on the small bed, laying on his side and facing (Y/n). “Just cause I like you doesn’t mean I’m gonna pounce on you while we’re resting or something.”

“I’m tired too.”

Kuroo pulled up the folded blanket to both of their shoulders. (Y/n) shrunk back into the mattress slightly when Kuroo placed the bed sheet over him. “If they ask where we were, just say I was icing your forehead or something.”

Kuroo settled into the bed. In seconds, (Y/n) could’ve sworn he was already out like a light, quietly snoring while he wrapped his arms around himself atop the blanket. It didn’t help that the bed was small, made for people of normal height and certainly only for one person.

Especially with Kuroo, almost 6’2; (Y/n) was closer to Kuroo’s face than he would have liked.

He saw the way Kuroo’s chest would flutter every time he took a deep breath in, or the way his impossibly messy hair fell into his face, making it even more untamable than it already is. Or the way his lips were so deliciously parted, making his face look relaxed and peaceful.

He could stare at it forever. He could stare at him forever. And it was scary.

(Y/n) clutched the fabric of his shirt that clung right over his heart. There was no way he could sleep like this. Not when he was so close to Kuroo Tetsurou...

But even as he thought that, both of them somehow woke up entangled in each others arms, comfortable, and skipping practice peacefully. Not even Coach Nekomata had the heart to wake them up when he so curiously wandered into the health office looking for the two. Which is why they didn’t until Yaku dragged Kuroo forcefully onto the ground, bringing (Y/n) down with him.

——

(Y/n) thinks he knows why it felt so bad.

It wasn’t as hard to figure out. After all, the warm, fluttery feeling he felt as he woke up so suddenly, on the ground staring up at Yaku while directly on Kuroo’s chest was too telling.

The feelings he tried so hard to forget were resurfacing again. And he hated it.

Don’t get him wrong, Kuroo openly admitted to liking him just a few days ago, and just yesterday he woke up on top of his chest, but it was almost embarrassing to admit he was falling all over again. He didn’t want to. God, he didn’t want to.

Suck it up, keep it inside until training camp is over. That’s what he told himself. Then (Y/n) wouldn’t have to see Kuroo’s stupid, lovable face all day every day. Maybe then these feelings would bubble over again. That easy.

“(Y/n)~!”

Or so he thought.

Kuroo came jogging up to (Y/n), a plate of breakfast in his hand as he slumped down in the seat next to him. Kuroo dug into his breakfast, piling rice into his mouth as (Y/n) hummed out a greeting.

Kuroo swallowed a big lump of rice thickly. He clasped his hands together, before rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “Sorry about yesterday...totally didn’t expect to fall asleep on you...or koala you while I was sleeping…”

“S’fine…” (Y/n) said, hungrily shoveling food into his mouth. He barely heard anything that Kuroo said over the sound of his stomach rumbling. Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yesh.” (Y/n) chewed, thought about it, then swallowed. “...No.”

“(Y/nnnnn)!” Kuroo banged on the table lightly as he whined jokingly. (Y/n) chuckled into his plate of rice.

“Kidding, kidding! Yeah, I heard-”

“Though I wouldn’t blame you if it went totally over your head there. Y’know, since you’re so dense sometimes~”

“Fuckin-Tetsurou!”

Kuroo cackled as (Y/n) spat rice at him while he sputtered. His laugh was unrestrained, and as funny-sounding as it was, it sounded so genuine and wholehearted that you couldn’t help but listen as his laughter sang. It was stupid. It was Kuroo.

(Y/n) stopped laughing before Kuroo, stopping unconsciously to listen to his contagious laugh. He only then realized he called him by his first name habitually, like he’d done years ago. As his laughter died down, (Y/n) quickly turned to his plate of half-eaten food to avoid being caught staring at him.

“Ahhhh sorry sorry-you’re just very fun to-Kenma! Get off you’re psp and eat, damnit!”

Kuroo stood up from the table, pointing at Kenma, who was trying to somehow hide himself behind Hinata. Kuroo turned back to (Y/n). “Sorry, let me grab Kenma’s psp real quick. He was gonna sit next to us until he saw Shrimpy over there, and he’s probably too busy showing him his games to eat. Gimme a sec, ‘kay?”

Kuroo fled from the table, disappearing off to nag Kenma like a mom. (Y/n) picked up his chopsticks, picking up a small veggie with his sticks when a phone buzzed.

(Y/n) fished his phone out of his pocket, switching it on only to be met with a blank screen with his background photo. A picture of him and Kuroo posing in front of a ramen shop’s fish mascot, pretending to eat it as Kenma set his hand on the fish to contribute to the photo. No notifications. It wasn’t his phone.

The phone buzzed again, and it was only then (Y/n) realized it was the phone on the table, in the seat directly next to him. Kuroo’s seat. It was Kuroo’s phone.

(Y/n) pursed his lips. He grabbed the phone, intending to turn it off or dismiss the notification, when his eyes caught the message banner.

One new message from “Yumemite”

Huh. He could’ve sworn the last time he’d seen Kuroo’s phone, her contact name was somewhere along the lines of “Cutie Yumi <3” or “love of my life”. But it was what was under that banner that really peaked his interest.

‘hows it goin with (Y/n)????’

(Y/n) knew he shouldn’t intrude on Kuroo’s texts. It was a breach of privacy, and Kuroo could come back any second. Still, the message was about him, so he had a right to know...right?

He typed in Kuroo’s password the last he remembered it. Yumemite’s birthday. Quickly typing in the digits, his cringed slightly when the words ‘INCORRECT PASSWORD’ glared at him, and erased the wrong password from the text box.

(Y/n) glared back at Kuroo’s phone, even as he felt a sense of pride that Yumi’s birthday wasn’t the answer. He typed in Kuroo’s own birthday into the text box with a smirk.

The screen flashed ‘INCORRECT PASSWORD’ once again.

Now, this really got (Y/n) confused. Kuroo was very basic with passwords. His birthday, or someone else’s birthday like his mom, had always been his go-to password. But it was almost always his own birthday. (Y/n) gulped, and hesitantly typed in one more birthday into the box.

The screen slid up, granting him access to Kuroo’s phone. (Y/n) couldn’t tell if his stomach dropped or if his chest exploded with butterflies.

The number he had typed in was his own birthday.

(Y/n) shook the butterflies off, clicking on the messages app and opening the conversation with Yumemite. He scrolled up until his name wasn’t mentioned in conversation anymore, which was a few days ago, the day he rejected Kuroo to be precise.

Yumemite - howd it go??

Yumemite - he said yes right??

Kuroo - no

Kuroo - brb gonna go listen to mitski and cry :,)

Yumemite - AWWW IM SO SORRY :(((((

Kuroo - wait lmao dont be i was joking

Yumemite - ?

Yumemite - wait so he said yes-?

Kuroo - well- no

Kuroo - he rejected me but tbh id rather be his friend than not have him in my life at all yk??

Kuroo - like i can learn to get over him but itd fuckin suck if i lost him altogether

Kuroo - hes too important to me for that

Kuroo - i love him too much >>>

Yumemite - gay

Kuroo - shut up u literally have a gf

Yumemite - yeah <3 unlike one of us

Kuroo - I JUST GOT REJECTED AND YOURE PULLING THAT SHIT

(Y/n) smiled to himself as he read through the texts. He felt oddly happy that he was ‘important enough’ to Kuroo that he’d be willing to stay as friends even though he was rejected.

(Y/n) switched off the phone as he heard approaching footsteps. He slid the phone back into its place as Kuroo slumped back in his seat, psp in hand.

He hoped he didn’t notice.

——

(Y/n) wished he didn’t know why he felt so bad. Now that he knew, it just felt worse.

Every little touch, every little ‘(Y/n)~!’, hell, every little glance he sent his way sent shivers down (Y/n) spine. And he hated it.

He hated how he couldn’t stop himself from falling hopelessly in love with Kuroo Tetsurou all over again.

He wasn’t deliberately doing anything to get him to fall so bad either. No flirtatious comments, touches that get a little too personal, nothing. It was just Kuroo being his friend, and that made it one-hundred times worse.

Did that mean Kuroo got over him that quickly? Did he not like him anymore, and that’s why he was so comfortable sleeping in the same bed as him? Or laughing and touching him all buddy-buddy during breakfast? Did he-

Did he really move on that quickly?

(Y/n) ran fingers through his hair as he walked into the gym. It should’ve been a good thing, Kuroo moving on. He should’ve been happy about that. So why wasn’t he? Why…

“KUROOOOO! YOU ROOSTER SHIIIIIIIIT!”

Bokuto’s voice boomed from behind (Y/n). He jumped, but before he could turn around, an arm snatched his wrist and pulled him along.

(Y/n) legs ran faster than he could keep up with. Kuroo lay ahead, sprinting as fast as he could with (Y/n’s) wrist in his clutch. He looked from a cackling Kuroo’s back, to Bokuto chasing behind them.

“Wh-?!”

“I stole all of Bokuto’s underwear from his bag while he was in the shower.” Kuroo said between jagged pants as he turned a sharp corner. (Y/n) stumbled along, trying to keep up.

“And you brought me along why?!”

“Hey-! I didn’t mean to! You were just right in front of me and you were like-thinking about something so you probably didn’t hear me screaming to get outta the way so I just grabbed you-!”

Fair enough. (Y/n) huffed as Kuroo hurriedly opened up a storage closet and ducked into it.

It was fairly big, about the size of a volleyball club room and very, very dark. (Y/n) could barely see the faint outline of Kuroo’s jawline as he felt around the doorknob, snickering.

“Shit-there’s no lock…”

“Kurooooooo!”

“Fuck! Uh-!”

Kuroo looked around as he heard Bokuto’s footsteps nearing the closet. Looking at (Y/n), he could very clearly see the bright white of his shirt, contrasting the way Kuroo’s black one blended into the dark. If Bokuto barged in, he’d see (Y/n), which would lead to him finding Kuroo, and...well.

Without thinking, Kuroo pushed (Y/n) against the corner of the room, placing each of his hands on either side of him as he practically smushed himself against him. The door barged open, faint yellow light flooding into the dark room as Bokuto angrily stomped in.

Kuroo mouthed a “Don’t...move…” as slowly as he could to avoid his lips smacking or making noise, and he’s pretty sure he got the message with how utterly close their faces were to touching.

(Y/n) was so close he could practically count the eyelashes on Kuroo’s pretty eyes. Were Kuroo’s eyes always so bright? They looked hypnotic and endless as he looked off to the side, trying to see Bokuto searching the closet childishly.

(Y/n) swallowed the lump in his throat as quietly as he could, pressing against the wall as much as humanly possible with how close Kuroo was.

Bokuto huffed, nearing Kuroo and (Y/n’s) hiding spot. Kuroo unconsciously pressed closer, hoping Bokuto wouldn’t see the white of (Y/n’s) shirt. Things disappear with the color black in the dark, he just hoped Bokuto was dumb enough to not see Kuroo’s hair or his black shirt.

Kuroo’s face was so close to (Y/n) that they were practically pressing on eachother. Kuroo’s lips lay a mere centimeter away from (Y/n), one push from Bokuto, one slip from Kuroo, hell, one little gust of wind and they’d lock lips anytime soon.

Kuroo couldn’t help but stare into (Y/n’s) wide eyes with a sweaty, flushed face. (Y/n) couldn’t tear his eyes off of Kuroo’s half-lidded golden ones, especially with the way his lips were so tantalizingly close…

They jumped, however, when Bokuto kicked over a bucket with a loud “Hey, hey, hey!”. They both tensed as Bokuto pouted once more.

“I know you two are in here-!”

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto whipped his head around.

“Akgashfgjhi!”

Akaashi held up a pair of light blue boxers. “He missed one. Put them on before your pants start to smell. We’ll find him later.”

When Akaashi appeared, (Y/n) didn’t know. Neither did Kuroo. Nevertheless, Bokuto swiped the boxers from Akaashi gratefully, and turned back to the “empty” room.

“I’ll pay you back for this! Stupid Kuroo! Dumb rooster! I’m comin’ back for my underwear! Hey, hey, hey!”

Bokuto’s voice faded away as he left the storage room. Kuroo sighed in relief. (Y/n’s) head and vision felt hazy and cloudy as Kuroo let out a breathy laugh, still very close to each other's faces.

“I bet Bokuto wasn’t wearing any underwear, how disgusting.” Kuroo chuckled, beginning to pull away from their very cramped position in the corner. (Y/n) looked at Kuroo’s shiny ember eyes, down to his plush-looking lips. His face was still mere centimeters away from his own, then they locked eyes and suddenly (Y/n) wasn’t thinking about Yumemite or his regret anymore.

It wasn’t just a little kiss. Not like a little peck or a hesitant first kiss with your highschool boyfriend on your first date. It was grab-him-by-the-neck, bury-your-fingers-into-his-messy-hair, why-was-I-so-scared-about-loving-you-again kissing right against the wall of the storage closet.

(Y/n) pressed his back against the wall, bringing Kuroo in as close as his body could. Kuroo circled one of his hands around (Y/n’s) waist, letting the other rest on the wall and for seven seconds everything was bliss until-

Kuroo pushed himself back, pushing (Y/n) off him and letting his head hang down.

He pushed. (Y/n). Off. Of. Him. He wouldn’t mind if the wall would open up and swallow him whole. Kuroo didn’t look at him, he refused to, as he kept his arms on (Y/n’s) shoulders to keep his distance.

“...why did you do tha-”

“Don’t you like me, Tetsurou?”

Kuroo finally looked up at the waverly tamber of (Y/n) voice.

“...What?”

“Just a few days ago, you were telling me how much you loved me,” tears stung at (Y/n’s) eyes like heavy weights. He grasped onto Kuroo’s wrists that were on his shoulders, albeit a bit looser than it previously was. “Why is it any different now…?!”

“Wait-(Y/n-” Kuroo was cut off when (Y/n) gripped his wrists tighter.

“Did you...did you really get over me that quickly…? Do you really not love me anymore?!”

Tears began dripping down (Y/n’s) cheeks. Kuroo retracted his hands back, only to have the collar of his shirt grabbed and tugged harshly towards him.

“Wait, (Y/n), listen-”

“No! Shut up!” (Y/n) pushed Kuroo up against a rack behind him, drawing up a grunt from Kuroo. He was about to say something, or maybe push (Y/n’s) arms off of him, when he heard a choked sob, followed by wavering lips and free flowing tears. “It’s not fair..!”

“Why are these feelings coming back..?! Why now! ....I rejected you, there’s...there’s no way you’d like me now…! Especially how fine and buddy-buddy you’ve been acting, it’s clear you moved on! Why do I always choose to like you at the worst times?! Why…”

(Y/n) sobbed, tears cascading in the air as he shook Kuroo up. Kuroo was about to open his mouth again when it ran dry, as (Y/n’s) grip on his shirt tightened even more.

“Why do these feelings always come back when you’re done with me?! When you don’t like me! It won’t leave me alone…! I waited and waited and waited and the one chance I had I threw it away…! But then I just had to love you again when you moved on!”

He melted into a pile of hics and violent sobs, grasping onto Kuroo’s shirt for dear life. Kuroo couldn’t find the words to speak at that moment. He hesitantly put his hands on (Y/n), stabilizing him as he cried into his chest.

“S’not fair...it’s not…” (Y/n) hiccuped. “Not fair...it’s alway you...why do I always come back...to you…”

Kuroo stayed silent for a second. (Y/n), once again, wished the wall would swallow him up. Kuroo then trailed his hand up to (Y/n’s) damp cheek, guiding it up to look at his face.

“When have I ever said I was over you, (Y/n)…” Kuroo’s voice was soft, gentle and scared of shattering the glass that was (Y/n). “Actually...as iffy as it seems...you saying all of this made me sorta...happy…”

(Y/n) sniffed, staring at Kuroo with raw eyes and waiting for him to go on. Kuroo stroked his face with his thumb, catching any stray tears falling from his eye.

“I’ve been really, really sad since you rejected me...I guess I was just that good of an actor since you didn’t notice how much I thought about kissing you and holding you like this everyday while we hung out as ‘friends’…”

Kuroo let his head loll back onto the metal pole rack behind him. “I was just pretending to be happy being your friend—when actually I just wanted to tear my eyes out and scream how much I love you, (Y/n).”

Kuroo gently grasped (Y/n’s) hand, giving him a tentative kiss on the knuckles. (Y/n) scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand, before cupping the hand resting on his cheek. Kuroo looked up from his hand. “This ok?” He asked. (Y/n) nodded with eyes red and numb from crying.

“Then how about this?”

The hand that was resting placidly on (Y/n’s) face brought him closer and closer until their lips met once more.

Kuroo snaked his arms around his waist, pulling him in closer until their bodies were touching. (Y/n) suddenly understood why people described kissing as melting, because every single square inch of his body dissolved into his. He felt weak in the knees, and all of his guilt, all of his regret washed away with each passing second he was in Kuroo’s arms.

Eventually, the two separated for air, half lidded eyes and staring into each other like one would disappear the moment they took their eyes off of them.

Kuroo buried himself into the crook of (Y/n) neck, inhaling deeply. “Aaaaah, i’m so happy right now…”

As Kuroo nuzzled into his shoulder, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think about how much of an absolute mess this whole thing was. Sobbing onto Kuroo, violently shaking him while screaming in his face about how much he loved him, before kissing him again in the corner of a dark storage closet. It was a mess, sure, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And that was something.

——————

Haha..pls...giv serotonin in the comments or reblog tags or smth...would like...to hear...

[sfb123]

I just read your drunk Liam fic and I just HAD to send you some prompts!!! From the prompt list you hyperlinked 9, 16, and 17 maybe? (Preferably liamxriley) pretty plz?* insert puppy dog eyes🥺*

Well… since you inserted puppy dog eyes…

I wanted to try to incorporate all three of these into one story, which actually worked out really well. Then, the issue came of how to make that apply to Liam and Riley. Luckily, my current binge obsession is the 90′s sitcom Mad About You, and there was an episode the other night that set a lightbulb off in my head, so this fic is loosely based on that episode. 

Prompts:

“We should grab coffee together sometime.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“You need a lift?”

(Prompt pulled from this list. Feel free to send me more!)

Word Count: 1,431

Warnings: Adult language, mild innuendo

A/N: Thank you @phoenixrising308 for pre-reading. Your kindness and support are unparalleled, and I love you dearly. 

Also a thank you to @txemrn​ for dealing with my unnecessary back and forth about this moodboard. I ended up going with it, even though we were both so wishy washy about it. 

A/N 2: This is my third prompt story this week, I’m going to take a break and quietly write by myself for a while. I’ll continue to work on the asks I have received, and please please feel free to send more. I’m having so much fun! I just don’t want to bombard you all, so I’m going to start pacing my posting. When I finish a piece, I just get so excited when I finish something that I want to show you all so badly! 

***

Liam and Riley sat across from each other at the table, sharing the piece of cake that sat between them. They were in New York visiting Riley’s family for a few days, and her mother had insisted that Eleanor spend the night, so the royal couple was taking full advantage of their child-free night, wrapping up the evening with dinner at one of Riley’s favorite restaurants. 

“Hey, check that out.” Riley tipped her head toward the bar, where a man was approaching a woman who was sitting alone at the bar. “He’s going to shoot his shot and try to pick her up.”

“How do you know?” Liam asked, watching as the woman nodded, the man immediately sitting down beside her. 

“I worked in a bar long enough, I can read the body language and tell you exactly what’s going to happen.”

He turned to his wife, a skeptical expression on his face. “Prove it.”

“Wow, you don’t even believe your own wife. I’m wounded.” She placed her hand over her heart in mock devastation. “Fine, I hope you saved room after that cake, because you’re about to eat your words.”

Riley went on to explain what each was saying to the other, and accurately predicted each move that was made. Liam was so impressed that part of him felt like she may have hired these people specifically to act out this scene. 

“Now watch, he’s going to pull out his phone and try to get her to put her number in.” She said, as the man reached into his back pocket. 

“Is he going to get it?” Liam couldn’t help but be invested in the story that his wife was narrating for him. 

“She’s going to give him a number, but see how she’s already almost standing up?” Liam nodded, waiting with baited breath for her to continue, “She’s going to give him a fake number, and then leave immediately. She doesn’t want to reject him to his face.”

“That’s cold.”

“It’s life, we’ve all done it.” Riley replied nonchalantly. 

Liam’s gaze snapped to face her. “You’ve given men fake numbers before?” 

She nodded and shrugged. “Lucky for you. You never know, I could have ended up suckered into marrying one of those creeps. Or like locked in their basement or something.”

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I consider myself very lucky for that.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. 

“Oh oh, here we go, look!” Riley brought his attention back to the bar where the woman was shaking the man’s hand. “Ooooh, not even a courtesy hug. Game over, dude.” They watched the woman exit the restaurant, as the man started typing on his phone. “He’s sending a text to the number she gave. It either won’t be delivered, or he’ll get a reply from someone who is most definitely not that woman.”

“That poor man. He just wanted to find love.”

Riley sighed, shaking her head. “Ahh my sweet, romantic king, your naiveté is so heartwarming. That man is just looking to get laid.” She laughed, “For all the normal experiences you missed out on, aren’t you glad that you never had to pick up women at bars?” She paused for a second. “Present company excluded, of course.” 

Liam laughed, his expression quickly turning serious. “Actually, I kind of wish I could have had the opportunity. I think I would have been good at it.” Riley arched a brow at him. “I mean it, I got you to quit your life and fly all the way to Europe because of one night, didn’t I?” 

“Touché.” She drummed her fingers against the table in a brief moment of thought, “But can lightning strike twice?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Pick me up. I’ll go sit at the bar, you come over and shoot your shot. No social season, no friends, no boxy work uniform. Just a regular guy picking up a regular girl.”

Liam smirked at the proposition. “You’re on.”

Riley left the table and took a seat at the far end of the bar. Once she was seated he put down some money to cover their dinner, and made his way to the bar. “Excuse me miss, is this seat taken?”

She looked up, smiling politely and shaking her head, motioning with her hand for him to have a seat. 

“I’m Liam.” He extended his hand. 

“Riley. Nice to meet you Liam.” She placed her hand in his, and he brought it to his lips. “A hand kiss instead of a shake, bold move. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I actually just moved to the states from Europe.” 

The bartender approached and took their orders. Liam instructed him to open a tab to cover himself and Riley. He took Liam’s card and stepped away to make their drinks. 

“So, why is a beautiful woman like yourself sitting here all alone?” He asked once they were alone again. 

Riley tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at the bar, playing up her role. “You’re sweet. I uh… I was supposed to be meeting someone, but I think they stood me up.”

“Well, their loss is my gain.” As the bartender set down their drinks, Liam lifted his glass in Riley’s direction. “A toast,” He waited for Riley to raise her glass before he continued, “To the missteps of old friends, which allow the opportunity to make new ones.”

“So we’re friends now?” Riley asked as she tapped her glass against Liam’s. “That’s awfully presumptuous.”

“Well, we’ve only just met. I’m hoping that perhaps we could get to know each other and see where the evening takes us.”

Riley agreed, and they began with some small talk. Riley stuck to her pre-Cordonia life, while Liam had done a pretty good job of coming up with a non-Royal backstory. They sat there talking, and drinking and ‘getting to know’ each other. Riley was impressed with Liam’s subtle flirting skills and decided that he was right, he would have been pretty good at this had he been given the chance. 

The lights came up, and Liam’s bill was dropped on the bar in front of him. “It looks like they’re closing up.” He said as he reviewed the receipt, signing his name at the bottom. “This was a lot of fun Riley, I would like to see you again. We should grab coffee together sometime.”

“I actually don’t drink coffee, I think it’s gross.”

“Oh.” Riley smiled to herself at the disappointment in his voice.

“I would like to see you again, though.” She reassured him. 

He looked up at her and smiled. “Could I take you to dinner, maybe?” 

“Dinner would be nice.”

“Great!” He noticed the annoyed expression on the bartender's face, they were officially the last customers in the bar. “We should probably go. I’ll walk you home.”

“I actually have a car waiting for me outside.” He dropped his head, again disappointed by the rejection. “You need a lift?”

He smiled widely, standing from his seat. “I’d like nothing more.” 

He offered his arm, she slid off the stool and linked hers through his. They exited the restaurant, and were greeted by Bastien, standing in front of their SUV. Before the guard could reach the door handle, Liam released Riley’s arm and jogged ahead, opening Riley’s door for her. 

“Such a gentleman.” She smiled coyly as she slid into the backseat. He smiled and got in after her. 

“Back to the hotel, your majesties?” Bastien asked as he entered the driver’s side. 

“Yes please.” Riley answered. 

Liam looked at her curiously. “Assuming I’m going to come home with you, bold move.”

She laughed. “You don’t have to come, but I promise you’ll have fun if you do.” Riley said in a sultry tone, closing the distance between the two of them.

“Riley…” Liam’s voice was just above a whisper as she leaned in, finally pressing her lips to his. They pulled back breathless from their kiss, their eyes remained closed as they rested their foreheads together. “I guess lighting can strike twice.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the second time I picked you up in a bar, and the second time you kissed me first.” He grinned triumphantly. 

Riley leaned back, laughing as her eyes met Liam’s. “I guess that means you win?”

“Great, let’s go back to the hotel so I can collect my prize.” He brought his hand to her cheek and pulled her in, kissing her again. 

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @bbrandy2002 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emersynwrites @emkay512 @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @pixie88 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @shewillreadyou @sincerelyella @sweatyrysconnoisseur @tessa-liam @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612 @neotericthemis

Liam:

@amandablink @ao719 @yourmajesty09

One Shots:

@bebepac @darley1101

[sukumen]

big brother!yuuji where he notices his 8yrs old little brother has a crush on their neighbour's youngest daughter. He laughs when sukuna aggressively ask her - more like ordering her - to have a dinner at their home. Big brother!yuuji who is famous with the kids since his jogging time and the kids play time always coincide and he likes to join them when the kids ask them. Big brother!yuuji who is compassionate and patient on raising his younger brother because his grandfather always went to the hospital. Big brother!yuuji who is good at communication. Big brother!yuuji--

Itadori twins is out. Big brother!yuuji and lil bratty brother!sukuna is in

you said itadori twins who?! i actually really love this concept for so many reasons ---

first, we have to talk about big brother!yuuji because wow - the absolute power. their grandfather does the best that he can raising them both, but once he’s sick, yuuji has to take the reins for most housework/care and he does it all with a smile. no resentment to the parents who aren’t there, no anger at the grandfather who may leave them behind, and no disdain for the younger brother who needs him more than ever. 

all i can think about is all the mundane day to day things yuuji makes special for sukuna - things he barely had in his own childhood when his grandfather used most of his focus on the necessities. the evening routines where sukuna is getting hours of uninterrupted attention. homework, dinner, baths, even story time on nights where he feels particularly lonely and doesn’t want to be left alone in his too big bedroom just yet. the lunch bentos that admittedly, start a little rough, but get better and better every week with yummy recipes and character designs galore. yuuji is 100% the big brother who strikes a balance between the fun and the necessary - always ready to play and indulge, but doesn’t take important things lightly either. 

i also love the thought of him being popular with the kids around, especially with bratty younger brother!sukuna because they all talk about him like he put the sun in the sky. like they don’t just like him, they look up to him, and anytime he shows up, they’re gushing for days after. and as much as sukuna can lash out at yuuji, who becomes both parent and sibling most days, it’s never out of a place of dislike. no one looks up to yuuji more than him and he can’t stand it sometimes, seeing all the other kids swarm him and get attention. it riles him up enough that he starts to get mean when yuuji jogs past - yells at him when he tries to join at the other kids’ request and keeps his distance when yuuji sticks around anyway.

it all comes to a head in a fight between him and one of the boys who talks about yuuji a little too much for his liking. yuuji jogs by just in time to stop it from escalating too much; but the damage is done --- all the kids rush off and leave sukuna alone with yuuji in the park, bruised and humiliated. 

even then, he isn’t honest. if anything, the fight makes him shut down even more and instead of telling yuuji what’s wrong, he’s pulling away any time hd tries to inspect him; refuses the walk home too, even with promises of his favorite meatball dinner. “i’m not h’ngry and i don’t wanna go home,” he spits, “now leave me alone!” 

but as if yuuji could ever. as if yuuji does anything but sit there in the grass, watching sukuna kick at rocks and stab sticks angrily into the sandbox, until his exhaustion starts to hit enough for yuuji’s prodding to convince him. i love the image of sukuna walking home trying to stay distant but with his energy down, he just wants comfort and instinctively reaches for yuuji’s hand as he rubs his eyes. which turns into yuuji just hauling him up to walk the rest of the block home because he can’t work out what’s going on just yet, but he knows his baby brother needs a little extra love. 

and that’s all he’s there for. 🥺

but also! the potential of childhood friends to lovers here with sukuna and neighrbor!reader that he’s liked from the day they met -- eep! i’m actually dying at the thought of him aggressively asking her to come for dinner, it’s such a spot on image for him in this au. 

your parents agreeing, so yuuji sends sukuna out to go walk you over (and it’s one of the rare times sukuna doesn’t fight what yuuji asks him to do :) ) and we get the sweet moment of absolutely tomato!red sukuna holding his crush’s hand because “you’ll get lost if we don’t hold hands!”

the way he helped yuuji tidy the house because you were coming over, so he’s all swollen with pride when you come in gawking at his nice room and organized (for an eight year old) toys and books. it’s just so sweet to envision it - he’s so happy to have you there.

it makes me emo though because i have to imagine that a natural part of his upset re: the friend group fight would be you seeing it and being among the people who run, but maybe not by choice. maybe one of the others in the group just grab your hand when yuuji shows up and you all go running, but your eyes keep darting to sukuna over your shoulder the whole way. him being convinced everyone in the group is going to stop playing with him until you show up after dinner with your mom in tow to give him some dessert she made for dinner because you haven’t stopped worrying about him since the fight. 

there would be such a good foundation of friendship and care between you two as you grow older that falling in love as adults just comes so easily...i’m obsessed!

[senditcolton]

The Intimacy of... (6)

word count: 1.4k warnings: none! feminine reader

The Intimacy of... someone’s pet recognizing you and coming over to say hello

“It’s fine, it’s just… ugh, I just like, want to quit but at the same time it’s a steady solid paycheck so, you know do I just throw that away because I don’t want to work there anymore?” you rant, walking down the street with a coffee in hand and your childhood friend Grace in tow.

She was visiting town for a few days to see her family and when she told you about her plans, you made sure that you opened up a day where the two of you could hang out together before she went back to the States. It was a good day, the weather surprisingly warm and the two of you just decided to go the café, get some drinks and talk, catching up with everything going on in your respective lives.

Which right now meant you ranting about your current career crisis.

“I know what you mean,” she sympathizes, taking a sip of her own drink. “Like, especially in this job market. But I think that you should try to find something new. Maybe don’t leave the job you have right now unless some monumentally fucked-up shit happens, but start looking for other options.”

“Yeah, that’s a pretty good idea. I guess when I get home I’m going to be surfing Indeed.”

“The coolest website to spend your time on,” Grace giggles and you return her laughter.

“Is this what being an adult is now? Like is this our life?”

“I think it is. I mean, three weeks or so ago, I got super excited because I got one of those apple corer and slicer combos. So, yeah. I think this is what being an adult is.”

“Hey, those things are the bomb, okay. And anyone that says otherwise is a liar,” you laugh as the two of you continue to walk down the Vancouver streets.

The comfortable silence that you always shared falls as you two turn onto the sidewalk winding through a local park. You take that peace to just observe the world around you; business men in their elegant jackets and briefcases, couples holding hands, and people like you and Grace, simply existing. You loved people-watching. It was fun to notice how people acted in public, how they moved and sometimes you enjoyed making up little stories about them in your head.

Like for instance, the girl sitting on the bench. Maybe she did this every afternoon, a little ritual of hers to escape the boring hum-drum of her everyday life. Or the man in the distance who was playing fetch with his two dogs. Where they actually his? Or was he watching them for a friend who said he was travelling for work but in reality, had a double-life; maybe a girlfriend and child that no one in the city knew about.

The thought fell away from your mind as you continued to watch the two dogs play, chasing the bright red ball around the park. You swore you fell in love with every dog you saw and when one of them looked up towards you and you couldn’t help but smile, even extending a small wave to the pup. The last thing you expected was the dog to coming running over to you in a full sprint, ears perked up and tail wagging. You were about to step back and brace yourself, still unsure if the dog was friendly until it got closer and you recognized the pale tan splotches around it’s eyes.

“Milo?!” you say right as he runs into you, spinning circles around you, his tail never ceasing. In your periphery, you see Grace pause and part of you knows that she has a confused yet amused expression on her face, seeing as you stopping to pet a dog was a somewhat common occurrence.

“Hey boy, hi buddy,” you coo, as you crouch down, keeping the hand holding your drink raised above your head because you know that he would easily knock it onto the sidewalk if it meant he got more attention.

“Milo!” you hear a voice yell, “Milo, you’re pissing me off!”

You look up to see Brock jogging towards you, Coolie leashed and trotting besides him, the ball hanging happily from his mouth. Brock slows down when he sees your face, a smile breaking out on his.

“That’s a very mean thing to say to your child, Brock,” you tease, keeping a hold onto Milo’s collar until Brock reached you. He handed you Milo’s leash and you clipped it on before you lifted yourself up from your crouch.

“Well, you know he can be an asshole at times,” Brock lightly retorts and you just laugh. The two of you stand there for a few seconds, your hand absentmindedly patting the top of Milo’s head until you suddenly remember that Grace is still standing next to you. You turn towards her, the look on your face quickly turning apologetic. But instead of anger or annoyance, you are met with one of the smuggest faces you have ever seen on her.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, ignoring the look Grace is giving you, instead launching into introductions. “Brock this is Grace, my friend since primary school. Grace, this Brock and his dogs, Milo and Coolie.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Brock says, holding out his hand to Grace, who shakes it warmly.

“Very nice to meet you as well,” Grace says, pulling away. “Y/N talks about you all the time.”

“Does she now?” Brock says, that teasing lilt clear in his voice.

“Don’t listen to her,” you scoff. “She tends to exaggerate.” You shoot her a playful glare and she responds by throwing her hands up in fake-surrender, causing a laugh to rumble through Brock. You roll your eyes, focusing back on Brock.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Eh, I thought I should get these two out the house and give them some exercise before I have to leave for the next road trip,” Brock explains as he gives Milo and Coolie a quick pet.

“Do you have someone watching them?”

“Actually,” he starts, “my usual sitter is out of town so I still need to find someone to replace them. Or maybe I’ll just put Milo and Coolie into a daycare or something.”

“There’s no need to do that,” you interject, “I can watch them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have plenty of time. Besides, that way they get to stay at home and be with someone they know.” You see the smile tug at the corner of Brock’s lips as he looks down at his dogs and back up to you.

“That would be awesome, thank you.”

“No worries. Besides, I think they might like me more than you,” you tease.

“Well, I think Milo definitely does considering that as soon as he saw you, I ceased to exist,” Brock laughs, referencing what happened just a few short minutes ago and you laugh along with him.

“Huh, is that right Milo?” you ask, looking back down at him. “Do you love me more than your dad?” Milo wags his tail at you, as if in response to your question and you give him one last pet before you start to turn away from Brock.

“Well, I should let you go home. Grace and I have to head out as well. Got to get ready for dinner with the family and all that.”

“No problem. Thanks again for offering to watch the dogs and I’ll text you the details and everything later if that’s alright?”

“Sounds good.”

“Awesome. It was nice to meet you, Grace,” Brock says, turning in the opposite direction as the two of you, breaking into a light jog, Milo and Coolie following close behind. You watch them for a moment before turning back to Grace, the smirk still painted on her face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you groan, resuming your pace, Grace falling into step besides you.

“So that was Brock, hmm?” she says, her voice light. “He’s much cuter than you described him.”

“Okay, you can stop talking now,” you mumble under your breath, your embarrassment only serving to goad your friend on.

“Well, I guess if all else fails with your career, I guess you could become his personal dog-sitter,” she teases. “Or, even better, maybe you could become his trophy-wife.”

“I’m going to kill you, I swear,” you joke and her laugh cackles through the trees surrounding you.

[blu-joons]

When They Give You A Piggyback Ride ~ GOT7 Reaction

Mark:

“Look at the two of them,” you chuckled, pointing out to a couple you spotted walking through the park piggybacking each other. “Don’t you think that’s such a couples thing to do?”

“Shall we find out?” Mark questioned, standing up from the bench and pulling you up with him. “Jump on my back and let’s see how much fun a couple can really have with a piggyback ride.”

“Are you serious?” You laughed, surprised when his head nodded, and he leant down so that you could jump on. “Alright,” you grinned, pushing yourself onto his back, feeling his arms grab your legs.

“Hold on tightly,” he warned, jumping gently to move you further up his back before starting to walk around the park, ignoring the stares of several families that were around you.

“How are you not falling apart carrying me?” You whispered into his ear as Mark picked up the pace and moved into a light jog.

“It’s easy to carry me, just because I’m thin, I’m strong, it’s all very deceiving,” he tried to argue with you.

“You’re very strong,” you quickly complimented as he glanced back at you.

“And don’t you forget it!”

JB:

“Is this the one speed you’re going to go at today?” Jaebum called out, glancing back to see you a few paces behind him as you walked along the street. “We’re going to be late Y/N.”

“We’ve walked for miles,” you sighed, placing your feet firmly into the ground, “if you want me to move any quicker than this then you’ve got no other choice but to carry me Jaebum.”

“Fine,” he huffed, walking back to you and kneeling in front of you. You were frozen for a few moments until his arms reached back to pull you against his own back and up into the air.

“I was only joking,” you laughed, quickly jolting upwards as Jaebum pulled you up. His head shook back at you, knowing how important it was to be on time for the meeting.

“I wasn’t joking about being late,” he teased, pinching gently at your ankles, “if this is how I’m going to get you to move, then this is what I’ll do.”

“I definitely could get used to this,” you sniggered, “it’s quite nice being carried around and not having to do anything.”

“If only my back felt the same way as you,” he continued to tease you.

“You’re doing great!”

Jackson:

“Can we stop again, please?” You called out to Jackson. With each exhausted step you took, another groan came from you, tired of the heels that you wore digging into your feet.

“We’re nearly home,” Jackson sighed, brushing a hand through his hair at the clear destress that you were in. “Do you really not think you can walk the final few streets to just get home Y/N?”

“My feet are killing me,” you frowned, glancing across to meet his eyes. “There’s no way that I’m walking barefoot along these streets either, who knows what I could step on Jackson.”

“I guess, there is one thing we could do,” he whispered, walking across to you and standing before you, encouraging you to jump onto his back so that he could carry you home.

“Are you sure about this?” You questioned, but Jackson had already pulled you up onto his back before you had chance to ask.

“I’m not going to let you end up breaking a bone in those stupid heels,” he pointed out to you, beginning to walk again.

“You’re far too good to me sometimes,” you whispered gently to his ear.

“I just don’t want to see you in pain.”

Jinyoung:

“I’m not giving you a piggyback,” Jinyoung sighed, ignoring your pouted expression beside him as you tugged gently at his arm. “We’re adults Y/N, piggybacks are for children anyway.”

“Stop being boring,” you continued to whine at his side, “plenty of adults give piggybacks, it’s quiet besides if you’re scared of someone seeing you cave to your girlfriend like this.”

“I’m not caving,” he protested, folding his arms against his chest, “I told you that there was no way that I was going to give you a piggyback, and I meant it, whether people can see us or not.”

“We’ll soon see about that,” you grinned, letting go of his arm, taking a step beside him. Jinyoung remained unphased until he felt your weight land against the small of his back.

“Y/N!” He yelled, grabbing onto your legs before you fell back and hurt yourself, “don’t be so reckless, you could break a bone or anything.”

“I could, but you saved me,” you teased, pressing a kiss against his cheek, “and you’re giving me a piggyback ride now too.”

“I can’t believe you’ve played me like this,” he quickly muttered under his breath.

“I told you I’d get my way.”

Youngjae:

“How much longer?” You asked Youngjae, feeling your hand slip out of his, “if my legs have to walk for much longer, I think they might just break away from my body at this point Jae.”

“We’ve still got a little way to go,” he sighed, glancing across to see just how exhausted you were. Youngjae walked in front of you, kneeling down. “Jump on me for a while and catch your breath.”

“You need to walk too,” you frowned, but his head shook, tapping against his back for you to hop straight on. “If you start to get uncomfortable, then tell me and I’ll jump straight down.”

“I’ll be alright,” he laughed, beginning to walk once again, “I’ve carried the kids on my back often enough, carrying you will be a walk in the park for me, don’t you worry.”

“I won’t kick you like your nephews do,” you quickly assured him, “but if you keep bouncing me, then I might not be so responsible.”

“Do you want to walk?” He joked, pretending to put you down, “a piggyback ride is no fun without a bounce anyway.”

“You’ve got a good point there,” you laughed back at him, “I’ll allow that.”

“Now, just be quiet and enjoy the ride.”

BamBam:

“Bam!” You yelled, running up beside him and jumping straight onto his back, taking him by complete surprise. His arms quickly held onto your legs, propping you up so you were on his back.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He laughed, glancing back at you as best as you could. As you tried to land back to the ground however, his hands kept you in place holding onto his back tightly.

“Do you plan on letting me go?” You questioned, letting go of a giggle as his head shook, and the grip that he had around your legs became tighter, keeping you well supported against him.

“I quite like carrying you around,” he mused, beginning to walk around the patch of grass you were sat on, “I reckon you could stay on my back all day and I’d still be able to carry you around.”

“Do you really think you’re that strong?” You challenged, scoffing quietly as he nodded proudly, confident in his abilities.

“I don’t think, I know,” he argued boldly, “you’re light, and I’ve been working out at the gym a lot lately too.”

“Alright, let’s place a bet, dinner tonight is paid by the loser,” you suggested to him.

“You’re on, it’s a bet.”

Yugyeom:

“What is it?” You frowned, jumping up and down to try and look over the crowds and see what had captured the attention of so many shoppers in the centre. “Yugs, what are they all looking at?”

“I’ll show you,” he grinned, kneeling down so that you could leap onto his back and get a closer look. “Can you see it now?” He questioned as you peered over the crowds to get a better look.

“I can,” you whispered, resting your hands against his shoulders as you noticed the street performer that had gathered the crowd. “It’s a good job you’re tall for times like this.”

“See, there are perks to having a tall boyfriend,” he sniggered, trying to move around so that you could get a better look, “I’m just a giant viewing pole to you if nothing else.”

“It’s definitely an advantage,” you continued to tease, “now I understand how different the world looks from how you look at it.”

“Now do you see how tiny you look to me too?” He joked, against himself a pinch against his shoulder from you.

“I’m not that small in comparison to you,” you tried to argue against him.

“I can see, you can’t.”

---

Masterlist

[eminems-skittles]

fireworks [aaron hotchner x reader]

aaron hotchner x fem!reader warnings: fear of fireworks, mentions of nightmares word count: 2.9k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

The sun shone down on the small stretch of beach the BAU team was currently situated on. Since it was Fourth of July and they didn't have a case, the team decided to rent out a mansion, Rossi's idea not theirs, in a small beach town they once visited on a case. Surprisingly they found a house that could accommodate everyone, including everyone's spouses and children. No one was quite sure where Rossi found the house and everyone shared the same theory. It was actually his but he didn't want anyone to know. All the adults were able to have their own rooms, while the kids all shared a room that was filled with bunk beds. The house itself was a beautiful Cape Cod-style three floor mansion with a pool, large yard, guest house and access to the beach.

   Everyone was currently either sitting on the beach or playing in the water. Hotch, Rossi, Spencer, Emily and Y/N were currently sitting on the beach. Hotch and Rossi were getting snacks set up at the picnic table. Spencer and Y/N were lounging on the sand, Spencer opting to read a book while Y/N and Emily watched the kids splash around in the water. Penelope and Derek were chasing around Jack and Henry while JJ and Will took a walk up the beach.

   "So I was thinking we do some fireworks tonight?" Rossi said, his voice raising so Spencer, Emily and Y/N could hear him. Y/N froze when she heard him, her body stiffening subconsciously. No one seemed to notice her small change in demeanor. No one except Hotch. When he caught her eye, he sent a look as if to say, 'everything okay?' Y/N shook her slightly before looking over at Rossi and telling him that was a great idea. Emily and Spencer followed suit, chatting excitedly about the small fireworks show they were going to have.

    "Y/N! Y/N!" Jack shouted, running up the beach and launching himself into Y/N's arms. Henry, Derek and Penelope were following closely behind.

     "Oh!" Y/N groaned when he landed in her lap, with his arms around her neck. Her arms immediately wrapped around him to hold him up before she looked down at the little boy."What's up buddy?"

      "Do you want to go swimming with us?" Jack asked, his eyes lighting up. Y/N almost melted on site, her heart warming at the fact he wanted to spend time with her. She quickly glanced at Hotch, who was smiling back at her.

        It was no secret that Hotch and Y/N were a couple. If Y/N wasn't at the BAU or on a case, she was at Hotch's house, spending time with him and Jack. They are constantly touching when they think no one is paying attention, sneaking kisses and holding hands. What they fail to notice is that everyone, is in fact, paying attention. Everyone's hearts melted the first time they saw Y/N with Jack. The team knew Y/N wanted kids, she'd been talking about it before her and Hotch even thought about getting together. And after seeing her with Jack, the team had all decided she'd make a great mom someday. In Hotch's eyes, she was already the perfect mom for Jack. Not that he was replacing Haley, but he knew Jack needed a motherly figure in his life. However, Y/N still felt out of place in Jack's life. She knew she wasn't his mom but she felt like she was more to him than his dad's girlfriend. Logically, the next step for her would be his step mom, but her and Hotch weren't anywhere close to getting married.

     "Of course, bud," Y/N smiled at the little boy. "Give me a second, okay? And then we can head down there together."

     Jack nodded excitedly, clinging onto Y/N as she stood up. Y/N laughed and moved him so he was balancing on her hip. Jack decided to keep himself busy by playing with her hair and poking her face every few seconds. Y/N walked over to Hotch, who was setting out paper plates.

    "Hey buddy," Hotch said when he saw his son, his heart almost stopped when he saw the two most important people to in his life. He leaned over to Y/N and kissed her on the cheek. "Hey you."

     "Hi," Y/N whispered, leaning against him slightly. "We're going in the water if you want to come with us."

     "Please dad! Come swimming with mom and I!!" Jack exclaimed, wiggling in Y/N's arms. Just like that, Hotch and Y/N froze. Y/N looked at Hotch with confusion and a small trace of happiness in her eyes and Hotch just looked back at her, his expression mirroring hers. Everyone around them froze as well, carefully watching the situation.

      "Okay, buddy, I will. Let me just finish helping Uncle Dave set lunch out and I'll be there in a few minutes, okay?" Hotch asked, a small smile appearing on his face. Jack nodded and put his head on Y/N's shoulder. Hotch leaned moved to kiss Y/N's temple before whispering,"You okay?"    

       Y/N didn't know how to respond so she just nodded before heading down to the water. Jack giggled when Y/N dropped him in the water without warning. When Jack stood up again, he splashed Y/N and tried to chase her.

       "So, that was new," Rossi said, looking at Hotch. Hotch was facing the water, a giant smile on his face while he watched Y/N and Jack chase each other.

      "Yeah, it was," Hotch said, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

      "Do you think she liked being called mom?" Emily chimed in, her head resting on her hand.

       "I do. You know her, she's always talking about being a mom and having kids of her own someday," Hotch replied.

      "So you guys have discussed having kids, then?" Rossi asked, studying Hotch's face.

      "We have," Hotch said giddily. "Not anytime soon, but we have talked about it before."

       Without saying anything else, Hotch jogged down to the water. He wrapped his arms around Y/N before falling into the water. Jack just stood there giggling.

       "Aaron Hotchner!" Y/N gasped, wiping water away from her face. "You're lucky I love you or else you'd be sleeping on the beach tonight."

        Hotch just laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissing her. Jack groaned in disgust and splashed them both. The two shared a look before they started chasing Jack around. The small family continued to play in the water for ten more minutes before Rossi was calling everyone back to the picnic table for lunch.

        "Hey buddy, why don't you head up there? Y/N and I are going to just talk for a few minutes," Hotch told Jack. Jack nodded before running back over to Henry. Once they were alone, Hotch grabbed Y/N's hand and the two started walking along the sand. "Is everything okay? I noticed you tense up when the fireworks were mentioned."

     "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Just don't like fireworks, that's all." Y/N said, leaning into Hotch's shoulder.

      "If you say so....mom," Hotch laughed, nudging her with his shoulder. "How did you feel about him calling you mom?"

       "I kind of liked it. I know that technically he shouldn't call me mom and I'm not trying to replace Hayley, believe me," Y/N rambled. "Is it okay that he called me mom?"

      "Of course it is, Y/N. We both know that you aren't replacing Hayley. Jack knows that also. There's nothing to worry about," Hotch said calmly. He pulled Y/N into a small hug and kissed her forehead. The two made their way back to the picnic table, Y/N opting to sit next to JJ, Emily, and Penelope. Jack was sitting on Y/N's left, occasionally bumping into her arm.

      "So, what did you and Hotch go talk about?" Emily said, shoving a piece of watermelon into her mouth. JJ and Penelope both leaning in to hear the conversation.

        "Just about what the little one called me," Y/N said vaguely so she wouldn't catch Jack's attention.

       "What did he call you?" JJ asked confused. She had been walking with Will when the whole 'ordeal' occurred.

       "He called her M-O-M," Penelope whispered.

       "Oh my god, no way! Is that a good thing?" JJ asked, very excited for Y/N.

        "Yeah, yeah it is." Y/N said smiling. "Aaron and I talked about it, and we basically just decided that if Jack wants to call me M-O-M, then he can."

        "That's really great, Y/N," JJ said, patting Y/N on the shoulder.

       "Yeah, I'm really happy," Y/N said, smiling at her friends.

       The rest of the group fell into a conversation, laughing and joking. Sometime during the conversation, Jack climbed into Y/N's lap, laying against her. Y/N held him closely, rubbing his back gently. When she checked on him, he was fast asleep. She adjusted him so she could carry him into the house before walking over to Hotch.

        "Hi, love," Hotch said. "Is he asleep?"

        "Yeah, I'm just going to take him up to the house so he can sleep. I might take a nap also, didn't sleep well last night," Y/N said quietly.

         "I know, hon. I felt you tossing and turning all night, and I meant to ask you about it this morning," Hotch said concerned. "What was keeping you up?"

         Y/N looked around at their friends before shaking her head. "I'll tell you later, okay?" She said quietly. Hotch nodded, watching as she took Jack to the house.

          "Okay Jack here we go," Y/N said quietly, walking into Jack's room. She woke him up long enough for him to change into his PJs. While he was changing into his pajamas, she went to her room and changed into comfier clothes as well. She went back to Jack a few minutes later and knocked on the door. Jack opened the door, and lifted his arms for Y/N to pick him up. Y/N lifted him and carried him to his bed Y/N tucked him in before kissing his forehead. "Sleep well, sweetie."

          "'Night mom," Jack mumbled before falling back asleep. Y/N smiled before leaving the room. She made her way to the room she was sharing with Hotch and climbed into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

         An hour or two later, Hotch went to go check on both Jack and Y/N. After checking on Jack, who was still sleeping soundly, he went to his and Y/N's room. He stopped just outside the door, listening. He heard cries and muffled screams coming from inside the room. Without hesitation, Hotch threw the door open, quickly scanning his surroundings. Nothing in the room was out of the ordinary, except Y/N tossing and turning in the bed, cries leaving her.

      Hotch hurried over to the bed, immediately pulling Y/N into his arms. She didn't have nightmares often, but when she did, Hotch always held her until she calmed down and woke up. He brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

     "Y/N, my love, please wake up," Hotch whispered. "It's just a dream, it won't hurt you."

     Y/N woke up almost immediately, and cuddled closer into her boyfriend's chest. She whimpered when she felt him hold her tightly. They sat there in silence for a few minutes.

     "I'm sorry," Y/N whispered, tears falling down her face.

     "You have nothing to be sorry about, Y/N," Hotch said quietly. "How long have the nightmare's been happening?"

       "Uh, about a week or two, I'm not sure. I don't remember what they're about. I always forget as soon as I wake up. The only thing I remember is extremely loud booming sound that won't go away," Y/N said, hiding her face in Hotch's chest.

       "Like fireworks?" Hotch asked, and Y/N nodded. "Is that why you tensed up when Rossi brought it up?"

       "Yeah, I guess. I didn't make the connection earlier, though," Y/N said, leaning her head on Hotch's shoulder.

       "Do fireworks normally cause you to panic like this?" Hotch asked her.

      "I think so. They just sound so much like gunshots, you know?" Y/N whispers. "The sound just sends me back to rough cases."

      "I get it, Y/N. Trust me, I do," Hotch started. "Why'd you keep it from me?"

      "I don't know. I didn't want to bother you," Y/N said, looking down at her hands.

       "You can never bother me, Y/N. We can figure out an alternative to fireworks, if you want to," Hotch said quietly.

      "No, no, I don't want to ruin everyone else's fun. It's only for a little bit, I can suck it up," Y/N said, laughing lightly.

      "Okay, but if this happens again please don't hesitate to tell me. I don't like the idea of you struggling with something by yourself." Hotch said, kissing her temple.

       "You'll be the first to know," Y/N smiled at him. "What's everyone up to?"

        "Rossi, Will, Derek, and I were sitting on the porch, drinking some of that fancy stuff Rossi always has. Emily, JJ, and Penelope went to explore the town. Spencer is reading or sleeping, I'm not sure. And Henry and Jack are both taking naps." Hotch said. "And now, you and I are going to cuddle or go for a walk on the beach, it's your choice."

        "Can we go downstairs and just hangout with everyone?"  Y/N asked, beginning to get out of bed.

         "Of course," Hotch said climbing out of the bed and leading her down stairs. They went outside and sat with Rossi and Will. Soon after they sat down, Spencer came down from his room and joined in the conversation. Eventually, Emily, JJ, and Penelope returned from their trip and settled down on the outdoor sofa with everyone else. Jack and Henry opted to stay inside and play video games instead of hanging out with the adults.

         The group shared stories and had a light conversation while Rossi began to cook dinner for everyone. Dinner was ready fairly quickly and everyone decided to go eat on the beach and watch the sunset. After dinner, Rossi and Derek decide to start setting up the fireworks while everyone else grabbed blankets and beach chairs from the house.

           As soon as it was dark and everything was set up, it was time for the fireworks. Jack and Henry were hanging out on a blanket in front of all of the adults. Will and JJ sat the closest to the kids, with Emily and Spencer sitting in chairs next to JJ and Will. Penelope sat in between JJ and Emily, the three excitedly talking about the show they were currently binging. Hotch and Y/N sat next to Will, the group of adults forming a semi-circle around the blanket.

         "Are you okay?" Hotch whispered in Y/N's ear when he noticed how tense she was.

         "Yeah, just nervous, is all," Y/N said, grabbing Hotch's hand.

         "Okay, guys! Are you ready?" Derek shouted from the spot of the beach they had the fireworks set up. Everyone cheered and chatted happily, waiting for the fireworks to start. Jack ran over to Hotch and Y/N and laid across both Hotch and Y/N's laps.

      Soon the sky was filled with blasts of colors and their ears were filled with loud booms. Everyone 'oohed' and 'awed' at the bright fireworks against the dark blue sky. Y/N leaned her head against Hotch's shoulder, watching the night sky light up. She flinched with every boom and Hotch held her closely against his side.

      "You're okay," Hotch whispered in her ear after a particularly loud round of fireworks caused her to whimper and jump. With every reassurance, her panic melted away. "I've got you, you're okay."

      The fireworks lit up the night sky for about thirty minutes before everyone grabbed their chairs and blankets getting ready to go inside.

        "He's asleep," Hotch whispered, motioning to his sleeping son.

       "You take the chairs and I'll carry him in okay," Y/N said, picking Jack up and balancing him on her hip and his head immediately fell onto Y/N's shoulder. Once Hotch grabbed the chairs, Y/N and him went back into the house, wishing everyone goodnight.

        "Let's tuck him in," Y/N said, walking up the stairs to Jack and Henry's room.

        "I can carry him, Y/N," Hotch said, worried he was too big for her to carry.

       "Love, I got this. I carried him up here earlier today, remember?" Y/N laughed. Once they got to the room, Y/N set Jack on the bed and both her and Hotch tucked him in. Y/N smiled before gently kissing the sleeping boy's forehead and whispering, "Goodnight, bud."

       Hotch said goodnight to Jack before he and Y/N left the room. They went back to their room and changed into their pajamas before falling into bed. Hotch pulled Y/N against his chest and kissed her forehead.

     "You're really good with him," Hotch said after a few moments of silence. "It makes me really happy to see you guys get along so well."

    "He's a really good kid, Aaron," Y/N said, smiling up at her boyfriend. She paused for a second before continuing. "Thank you for today. You helped me more than you'll ever know."

    "You're welcome, love. I'd do anything for you," Hotch whispered before kissing her lips gently. "Now come on, let's try and get a full night's sleep, yeah?"

   Y/N nodded before snuggling into his chest. "I love you, Aaron Hotchner."

    Hotch beamed at her before kissing her forehead. "And I love you, Y/N Y/L/N."

[creativeashproductions]

Reluctant Vacation // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: The niece of the infamous Kenny Ortega had its advantages and disadvantages, you received insight on his projects but felt guilty saying no. Kenny seeing the exhaustion pulling you down invites to the set of Julie and the Phantoms where you rediscover your love with the field.

Warning: Swearing and fluff.

 Words 2.2k

A/N: I do take requests. It may take a bit to get to them but I’ll post some.

Please ask to be tagged in my inbox because I can’t promise you will be through commenting on the posts!

Masterlist

The sigh came from deep in your chest wanting to drop to the floor for an exhaustion induced nap, but an airport wasn’t the best place. Large sunglasses obscured people from seeing the deep bags under your eyes on the way to the film lot. It was coming full circle, the change different from the frantic schedule you had had recently. When Kenny called you hadn’t hesitated in packing and buying a ticket.

“Miss Y/L/N?” The voice pulled you from your thoughts as a man holding a card with your name displayed. He was of Puerto Rican descendent with a young girl beside him with similar features, “I’m Ricardo. This is my daughter Madison.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m-“

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Madison supplied with a beaming grin on her face having recognized you from your role as Sabrina in The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina along with movies.

All you could do was send a fragile smile in response after a long sleepless flight to Canada.

Madison’s eyes saddened at the exhaustion you carried, “I can fangirl later. You looked really tired.”

“Kenny saw and asked me to come over the guise of help, but he knows I need a break. He’s lucky I don’t need to be on set for a few weeks.” You replied, covering a yawn as you found yourself at a car, the walk a blur.

Unintentionally you found yourself asleep in the backseat the moment you settled back there for the drive. You had filmed in Vancouver before, so it wasn’t a huge deal, and the Reyes’ duo didn’t have the heart to wake you up.

“We’re here,” Madison whispered with the back-car door opened. Your eyelids fluttering at her voice, giving Madison a closer look at your face.

Walking on set, you saw Kenny giving one of his pep talks before he cut himself off at the sight of you. The actors surrounding him furrowed their brows as the legendary director power walked to a person concealed behind Mads.

“Sweetheart.” Kenny beamed, pulling his niece in for a hug before leaning back to scan her features, “You need a nap.”

“I need to meet your new cast.” You snickered stepping around the man to the three actors he had abandoned to see you. You found amusement in their widening eyes at the sight of the Y/N walking to them.

“Oh, my shit.” Owen gasped freaking out as the actress co-starring in the new Spider-Man trilogy came closer.

Last night Owen, Charlie and Jeremy had hosted a movie night in the rented apartment the first two rented. They had quickly made their way through Captain America: Civil War before watching the following movies with Spider-Man. You had a cameo in Captain America: Civil War before becoming a star in Homecoming and Far From Home.

“We manifested her.” Charlie hissed frantically fixing his set costume growing a blush at the smile you wore. He could feel the hair stylist on standby glaring at his tousled locks.

The girl in question came to a stop before the three guys portraying the phantoms of the show in the second season. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the expressions each one of them had.

“Hello.” You greeted flattered when the tall blonde one turned a blossom pink at the voice of an angel. Charlie and Owen had developed celebrity crushes on you.

In revenge, Tori, a returning choreographer and background character, saw Charlie’s expression along with a familiar girl. After filming season one ended the previous year you had stopped by during the filming process of CAOS to catch up with Kenny. Tori had been there and you two became friends.

“Hey!” Tori grinned, pulling you into a hug, “These three binged your MCU movies last night, and Charlie’s wallpaper is you.”

“Tori!”

“This is what you get for telling Booboo about the poster!” Tori called to the Canadian boy jogging out his area. Charlie’s cheek darkened more than Owen’s as your smile grew bigger.

“No worries Ghost. Luke definitely my favourite character and gotta say you should have been on Charmed more than two episodes.” You supplied walking backwards to Kenny once more yearning for a night’s rest after the flight.

“Holy shit.” Charlie choked smacking Jeremy’s arm repeatedly, “She knows me. Oh, oh, OH. She’s seen me-“

 “-Getting it on for a scene.” Jeremy snickered as his friend grew more and more flustered, “That was tame compared to her and Tom going at it.”

Charlie’s face dropped being reminded of the explicit scene you had done with Tom Holland in the movie that came out near the end of 2020. The Devil All the Time was the only film out of the MCU you had done with Tom. You had played the promiscuous daughter of a devout, loyal churchgoer and close friend of the preacher.

“Didn’t they date for a few months?” Owen questioned thinking back to the media mayhem during the virtual press for the film.

Owen was correct with the chemistry between you and Tom it was natural you would do interviews together via shared video chats. Charlie watched every single one that came out with interest. He hadn’t even expected the film to do so dark and explicit, but you had a natural talent.

“English, handsome, actor-“ Charlie started to list off on the English actor with a far more extensive list of credits. Charlie felt like a Canadian child in the city of Los Angeles compared to your leading man.

“-runs a charity with his family.” Jeremy continued raising one eyebrow, “At least he isn’t tall. You’d be fully screwed.”

Charlie shoved his teasing friends away with a smirk of his own as the trio continued on to the film. Charlie put his feelings on the back burner to focus on the storyline and emotions of the scene.

“Spider-Man Three baby!” The English accent shouted from the phone with only an ocean separating the two actors. Tom hadn’t even greeted you before screaming at the news you both received; despite the scripts from a few weeks prior the sequel had fully been greenlighted

Your head tossed back at the childlike glee on the older adult, clearly displaying the two years really mean he was two years old. After meeting on the set of Civil War along with Harrison, you had become friends. Followed with the following MCU appearances, it had been a surprise to be cast in Devil All the Time.

“Insane.” You started making your way through the set to where Kenny had texted you from. It was closing to the end of your vacation.

In the few weeks, you had reconnected with Tori on her breaks along with becoming good friends with the cast members. Something clicked between you and the core four of the show even if Madison sometimes still got starstruck.

“Did you read the script?” Tom questioned quirking his infamous eyebrow his fans wholly adored. You found it amusing, to be honest, that every character he portrayed had the same eyebrow.

“Not fully. I’m surrounded by people, and unlike you, I prefer not to jeopardize my career with marvel.” You teased glancing up as Charlie and Owen made their way over, “I’ll be flying out in a few days for filming.”

Tom nodded his head, “I got get back. Jacob and Haz are visiting. Remember to film the announcement! Bye Love!”

You gave a thumbs up before Tom ended the facetime glancing up at the duo who each raised their eyebrows. Charlie’s mask nearly breaking at Tom’s goodbye. Charlie could feel the cover of his feelings falling more and more each day.

“Announcement?” Owen questioned, slipping his jacket on over his shoulders having changed from his Alex outfit.

“Nothing.” You waved it off, starting to walk backwards with a smile that Charlie thought made your eyes shine brighter than stars.

The boys followed behind on the walk to the house Jeremy and Carolynn had decided to rent during filming. You had been crashing there as Jeremy didn’t want Carolynn to be alone with his filming schedule. It also gave the perfect place for your plan. Last few nights you had binged the marvel movies again ending with Far From Home.

The living room was decked out by Carolynn with your help from earlier as she was the only know that knew. Everyone settled in the living room with Mr Reyes there as well who had quickly become a father figure to you.

“So, I wanted everyone here for a reason. I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve been reading a script and I have something to open.” You started thanking Jeremy as he brought in the package, he had no clue of the contents, “Now nobody says any spoilers for season two.”

You turned on the camera Paul Becker had supplied with a small smile having already filmed the opening sequence. You sat on the floor in the camera shot, opening the big box to hand out the smaller boxes to your friends. Charlie, Owen, Jeremy, Madison, Savannah, Booboo and every else glanced at the non-descript red box.

“Open them.” You urged grinning as the room went silent except for the tape ripping off the packages.

In each individual box was marvel themed candy, a plushie of Spider-Man along with signed cards from the Avengers actors and the MCU Spider-Man cast. At the very bottom, all it said was to look up at you. Instead of facing them with their looks of shock, you addressed the camera.

“Tom and I are so incredibly happy to announce that Spider-Man 3 is in the beginning process of filming.” You beamed at the camera listening to the intense noise of your friends screaming, “we can’t reveal anything else about the film, but the script is immaculate as usual. You’ll get to see Harper on the screen once more.”

“WHAT!” The collective scream behind you came as you waited a second before ending the video. You’d have to replay it before sending to marvel for the finishing touches with Tom’s version and then you could post it on Instagram.

“Surprise!” You spoke to the group behind you all in states of excitement, “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to tell you guys! I got the script a few days before I came.”

“Holy shit.” Owen spoke, laughing at he shook his head, “You managed to get autographs from fucking Iron Man himself.”

“I got connections.” You snorted meeting the gaze of Charlie, “Nah, Downey’s kids came for a visit, and I kept them company. Downey offered to do anything, and I took the favour.”

The surprise wore off as the group mingled, but Charlie’s eyes stayed pinned to your form as you sent a message to Tom. Locking your phone to noticed his eyes.

“Hey Charlie.” You smiled, sitting on the couch next to him. His expressive eyes showing a silver screen of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher.

The corner of his mouth tilted up in response to the way his name rolled off your tongue, sending his heart stuttering. A cold sweat appearing when you grasped his hand in yours in a confident manner.

“So, you leave soon?” Charlie murmured moving closer to hear you among the chatter of the group. Your lips turned down for a split second as you felt the sadness of leaving.

It was refreshing to be on set without the demands of makeup, costumes, filming and choreography. To see the action and magic but not be part of it was a definite change you had needed desperately. But to leave Charlie hurt.

“My call time is in three days. Need to get ready to bring Harper Osbourne back to the big screen.” You replied, loosening your grip on his hand, “I don’t really want to go back. I’m gonna miss you…and everyone else of course.”

Unaware to the eyes watching in anticipation you and Charlie conversed further on the upcoming months. To the great disappointment of the house began to clear out, Owen for an early call time. Savannah was meeting with her brother, and Mr Reyes was taking Madison home.

It left Jeremy and Carolynn to retire to their bedroom while you stayed on the couch with Charlie for longer. The emotions building from the prior weeks, bubbling to the surface. Hearts thudding in their chest Charlie leaned in glancing at your lips; yours glancing at his.

Who moved first couldn’t be known, but as your lips brushed together just barely you felt grounded and peaceful. If he leaned closer, you wonder what the kiss would make you feel.

“I’d like to kiss you.” Charlie murmured startled at the confidence he had gained, “But before I do. Do you have something with Tom?”

“Other than onscreen chemistry? Absolutely nothing.” You spoke barely louder than a whisper to the boy that had become so much more than some actor.

He was Charlie. The goofy boy that put a smile on anyone’s face with an impromptu concert in the middle of a crowded street. He lived life to the fullest without any regrets. He was passionate about his work, music and the environment.

Those thoughts evaporated when lips met another pair of lips in what might be described as the best kiss ever. No fireworks felt as Wattpad would say, but instead, it was the heady warmth of hot chocolate on a cold day; a warm shower after a long stressful day. It was home and perfect.

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