#but the argument at the mall won’t even Be the first argument of the day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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video stores, shopping malls, and ren faires

remember that post about getting three whole ideas from listening to my soundtrack playlist? uh..yeah, so here's part 1 of 3!

on AO3: video stores, shopping malls, and ren faires | song for this chapter

Working at one of the last remaining Family Video stores in America has its highs and lows.

High: going days without seeing a customer. Low: no idea when the hammer will fall and you’ll be laid off when this branch closes too. High: usually on shift all day by yourself. Low: you’re usually on shift all day by yourself.

(Un?)luckily for Robin, she found herself inundated with four visitors on her shift today.

The first two arrivals were the newest addition to their trauma bonded group (and subject of her best friend’s affections) Eddie Munson, along with his closest non-inducted friend Gareth Emerson.

She glances up at the two as they enter. “Hey, Gareth…what’s up fucker?” she says to each of them in turn.

“Rude.” Eddie says, mock offended, “We go through hell together and all I get is ‘fucker’.” he shakes his head and tsks, leaning his weight on the counter in front of her.

Robin just shrugs, straightening up to stand instead of being hunched over the counter like a shrimp. “That’s how it goes, Munson. Y’all here to rent something, or just bother me?” she asks, rubbing her elbows where they had been pressed to the linoleum countertop.

“Bother you. It’s not like you were busy anyway.”

She acknowledges that with a nonchalant frown and raise of her brow, and hunches back over her twitter feed.

“What’s gonna be the subject of today’s Munson Rant, Emerson?” she asks in his direction.

“Why’d you ask hi–”

“Steve Harrington, what else?” Gareth shrugs, coming around the counter to sit on the spare stool with her.

“Ah, the tried and true favorite.” She nods in understanding. “Let’s hear it then, Munson, what indiscretion has our beloved mother hen done that you’ve latched onto this time?”

Eddie’s quiet, so she looks up from her screen. He’s gaping at the two of them like a fish, eyes darting between her and Gareth.

“Oh! Sorry,” Robin puts her phone face down on the counter and pillows her face on one hand and gesturing for him to continue with her other “You have my full attention.”

Eddie still doesn’t continue, so she turns to Gareth with a sigh, “Care to start us off, Gare-bear?”

“Gladly. This time it was ‘Does he even know what he’s doing when he looks like that?’--don’t ask me what ‘that’ is, I have no clue,” Robin nods along, leaning on her left arm to turn towards Gareth. “Then: ‘Does he know how attractive and unfair he’s being?’ and ‘I can't let myself get suckered in, Gare.’.”

“Oh, you’d love to get suckered in by Steve Harrington.” Robin rolls her head side to look at an incredulous Eddie, waggling her brows.

“What I want and what is theoretically possible are two very different things, Birdie.”

“He speaks!”

“Shut up, Gareth, you two are the worst. I come to you in confidence about my trials and tribulations and all you do is mock me. Mock me!”

“Trials and tribulations..” Robin shakes her head at him. “Two things you wouldn’t be going through if you just admitted your feelings for him!”

“I don’t have feelings for Steve Harrington!”

“Yes you do!” Gareth and Robin both answer.

“I can’t have feelings for that airhead. (“Hey! Take it easy on that poor sweet Dingus!”) I just can’t okay?”

“‘Can’t’ doesn’t mean ‘Don’t’, Eddie.”

“Semantics won’t get you anywhere in this argument, Gare. I do not have feelings for King Steve.”

Robin clenches her jaw at Steve’s old nickname, but stays quiet.

“Here, let me continue for him,” Gareth also seems pissed, “‘Ooh, I’m eddie and I’ve had the hots for Steve sinc—“

“I can’t do it again!”

Robin and Gareth both look over at Eddie at his outburst

“I can’t fall for another straight guy. I don’t have it in me to keep it going, so I’m trying to reverse psychiatry myself into dropping the feelings, okay?”

“…It’s reverse psychology.”

“Semantics, Gare, I thought we already talked about this.” Eddie waves him off, already pacing and chewing on the end of a lock of his hair absentmindedly (‘Ew’, Robin thinks.).

“Look, we all know he’s hot and perfect (“If you say so.” mumbles Gareth); All those damn freckles and moles that are just begging to be kissed, his stupid perfect face with those kind, dreamy eyes, his gorgeous body and hmm that chest hair…” (“Ew..” Robin says, aloud this time.).

He shakes himself out of the thought and continues on. “He loves those kids like they’re his, puts everyone else first to a fault, he pulled me out of literal hell!” He stops his tirade and turns to face her and his friend behind the counter. “I need you to tell me everything you can that he’s ever done that’s gross, or or shitty, just.. anything, Robin, please. I can’t deal with a crush on another unattainable straight man. I won’t survive it. Especially not if it’s Steve Fucking Harrington.”

Robin is quiet, glancing at Gareth briefly before turning her attention back to Eddie. “Sounds like you’re already in love with him Munson.”

“Don’t curse me with that, there’s no way I’m in love with him.” he starts pacing again.

“Uh, yeah way? Did you not just hear yourself? You just went on for like 10 minutes about all the shit you love about Steve!” Gareth points out.

Eddie stops just to blink at him.

“Also, I’m not about to slander my best friend just to make you less horny for him.” Robin cuts back in.

“Not…slander…just—“

“Sorry man, you gotta face facts. You’re head over heels for him.” Gareth cuts him off.

Eddie’s frown deepens. “Nope, no way, I’m not in love with King Steve—

“Stop calling him that you little—“ Robin explodes at him, but takes a breath and continues. “You know damn well he hates that nickname, especially with all the work he’s done to put that part of him behind him.

“And as much as you want to deny it Munson, you are also his friend—or at least he thinks you are—and his friend wouldn’t go around calling him shit he doesn’t like!” She can’t hold back by the last word and shouts it into the empty store.

The other half of her unexpected visitors arrive then.

Robin takes a calming breath at the sound of the jingle above the door, and turns to face her pseudo nephews. Her beloved Dingus’ first-born son, and his youngest, Dustin Henderson and Will Byers.

“Hey kiddos, whatcha need?” Robin checks in first, making sure there’s nothing actually wrong before stepping into her half annoying older sister, half cool uncle role.

“Nothing,” Dustin shrugs, “Just supposed to meet Steve here so he can give us a ride home.” he gestures over his shoulder towards the arcade.

“In that case, welcome to Family Video! We are doing a two for one rental deal right now, your father is bemoaning his feelings about your mother in the corner,” Eddie sputters nonsense at that implication (“Their father?? What the hell, Buckley?!”) but she ignores him and barrels on “and no you can’t have any free candy.”

“Aw man.” Dustin says, at the same time Will asks “Eddie has feelings for Steve?”

Robin and Gareth both groan as Eddie goes back into his rant.

“No! …No matter how good of a guy he might be or how hot he is, that’s just a curse I need to learn to live with if I’m going to stick around you goblins and…”

She has an epiphany then; his almost unhinged levels of ranting about how he very much “does not” have feelings for her best friend reminds her of something. So she pulls out her phone and opens YouTube.

“Hold that thought Munson,” she interrupts him mid-soliloquy about Steve’s arms or chest or something, “You three, you’re all theater kids right? Or musically adjacent?” She addresses Dustin, Will, and Gareth.

“What the hell’s happening right now..” Eddie tries.

“Uh yeah?” Dustin says, confusedly looking at the other two for confirmation, who also nod.

“Okay, back me up on this then.”

Robin starts playing the song over the bluetooth speaker she has behind the counter and immediately the four boys catch on, Eddie groaning in frustration and dropping himself face down on the counter.

‘If there’s a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I've already won that.’

“Sounds like Eddie.” Robin states to nods from the other boys, sans Eddie, who responds with a muffled “Fuck. You.”.

‘No man is worth the aggravation,’

“Steve is!” Will yells over the music, Robin pointing at him in emphasis, and catching Eddie’s expression softening already when he turns his head to smile minutely at Baby Byers.

‘That’s ancient history, been there, done that!’ to which Eddie gestures annoyingly towards the speaker, head still on his elbows.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, but starts singing along with the muses; Gareth, Will, and Dustin catch on quickly, adding onto the tune. “Who d'ya think you’re kidding? He’s the earth and heaven to you, try to keep it hidden…”

“C’mon munson, I know you’ve got some pipes on you!” Robin goads good-naturedly at Eddie.

–

Watching his friends (and his children, apparently) tease him and dance around through his bangs wins him over, and Eddie starts singing along with Meg.

“No chance, no way, I won’t say it, no, no..” he waves his arm out with a shake of his head, standing up from the counter to stalk across the floor.

His friends grin manically, Dustin and Will start over-performing the lyrics as they sing along with the muses, Will catching Dustin in a dramatic swoon. “You swoon, you sigh, why deny it? Uh-Oh!”

“It's too cliche! I won't say I'm in love!”

Eddie lets himself get into singing along; well, half singing, half speaking along to the lyrics as he keeps going, especially with the next set of lyrics hitting a little too close to home.

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson, It feels so good when you start out…My head is screaming, ‘get a grip’, UGH!” he grabs hold of his hair at the root in half-mock frustration. “Unless I’m dying to cry my heart out!”

He bellows out lungfuls of frustration along with Meg’s longer notes as his friends poke holes in his already shaky denial of his feelings in time with the muses.

“You keep on denying who you are and how you're feeling, baby, we're not buying. Hon, we saw ya hit the ceiling!”

Okay, singing long and loud aloud like this is starting to help, actually.

“Face it like a grown-up, when ya gonna own up that ya got, got, got it bad?!” He almost loses it when the four of them do exaggerated jazz hands at him.

“No chance, no way, I won't say it, no, no.” He shakes his head again and turns away from them towards the front window.

Of course, because the universe hates him, Steve arrives just then with Max in the passenger seat, in time for the song and his friends to tease him with the perfectly timed line: “..check the grin, you’re in love!”

Damn, he was actually fucking grinning like an idiot just seeing Steve’s car pull into in the parking lot.

He scrubs the grin off his face with his hands, grabbing onto his hair like a crutch and turning his back to the window.

At this point, he’s fully into the performance. “This scene won't play, I won't say I'm in love!”

“You're doing flips, read our lips, you're in love!”

“You're way off base, I won't say it (“He won’t say it, no)!

“Get off my case, I won't say it!” he spins back around…and what a mistake that was.

His (horrible, traitorous) friends continue on as he watches the scene unfolding in front of him: Steve has carefully unfolded Max’s wheelchair, making sure each part is locked into place, before moving to help her stand and take the couple shaky steps to her seat with a kind, patient smile.

“...It's okay, you're in love…”

Oh.

He has to catch himself on the counter in front of him, knees suddenly weak.

Oh.

“At least out loud, I won't say I'm in love…”

–

“Hey guys, what were you singing? It looked like fun!” Steve asks as soon as Max is inside and over the lip of the doorway.

“Uh, nothing, c’mon Gareth, we’ve got that…thing.” Eddie does a vague grabby motion towards Gareth, who’s coming around the front of the counter. “Cool t’see ya, Stevie, catch you later!”

Eddie basically books it out the door, still held open by the handicap button, with Gareth trailing behind at a normal speed.

“Hey Steve, bye Steve.” he says as he strolls past.

Steve watches them go with gooey affection clear on his face, much to the delight of the gathered peanut gallery.

“You’re so mean to him” Max chides, “That shit was playing so loud even you could hear it from the parking lot.”

“You could!? Oh man, poor Eddie.” Dustin says with a gummy smile.

“Why poor Eddie?” he asks, keeping a straight face.

Dustin’s face falls and he and Will blurt “NOTHING.” and “NO REASON.” at the same time.

He lets them sweat for a bit, but Robin’s not-so-subtly-hidden laughter gets the best of him.

“Why are you laughing? Steve do you…do you already know?” Dustin asks, worried.

Steve shrugs, “I've had my suspicions, but I want him to get there himself first before I fully put the moves on him.”

“Put—put the moves?? You like Eddie??”

“No.”

“Steve what the hell, that’s super shit—”

“I've basically been in love with him since my scoops era.”

The silence is somewhat expected, only Robin knows he’s bi officially, but there had to have been some hints or signs that they’ve picked up on right? Steve really hopes this doesn’t turn into losing any of them.

“…In love?” Will’s voice is quiet.

“Scoops era?” Max and Robin ask in unison.

Steve silently breathes a sigh of relief. “Yeah, back before the fire? Dusty, you were there, remember?”

It takes him a second, but sure enough: “Oh shit!!”

Part 2 here!

okay confession, this is fully self-indulgent. all the way down to the fake st gang twitter feed because they always make me die laughin

also, yes, the title is a spoiler for where the other two chapters will be set

hope you enjoyed this brainrot!

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refiwrites · 2 years

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can you do a will x fem!reader where reader finds will and comforts him after his argument with mike (the one in S3)? it could be platonic or romantic!

yes! there's nothing in this life i wouldn't give to give will byers a hug 🤗 apologies if the title is horrible, making titles is never really my forte 💀

Will the Brilliant

Pairing: Will Byers x Fem! Reader (could be read as platonic or romantic!)

Summary: You follow Will into the forest with the mission to comfort him.

WC: 1.1k

Warning/s: arguments, mike being mean :<, angst, hurt/comfort

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

“Move!” You heard the voice of Will saying as he made his way up the stairs.

“What are y- hey- Will!” Was the first thing you said as Will sped past you, followed by a very guilty looking Mike following him up as you were just about to go down. You were taken aback by the sudden change in the atmosphere as you slowly made your way down into the basement.

“Lucas, what happened? I thought we were playing?”

“I know- but Mike and I messed up and now Will’s mad at us...” Lucas sighs. “What did you guys do?”

“We didn’t mean it!” Lucas said before you ran upstairs, hoping to talk to Will. You almost reached the garage when you noticed the heavy rain occurring. Then followed by the shouting.

“-For what? So you could swap spit with some stupid girl?!”

“El’s not stupid! It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

You knitted your eyebrows, already stepping foot out to meet them.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk, okay? But we’re not kids anymore, I mean- what did you think? Really? That we were never going to get girlfriends? That we’re just going to sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?” Mike said. You made eye contact with Will before he swallowed and spoke.

“Yeah, I guess I did. I really did.”

“Will!” You ran, calling him out but he was already on his bike, speeding in the rain.

“What the hell Mike?! Why would you say that?!” You almost shouted at him.

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Mike, I get it if you always want to spend time with El and that you want her to forgive you, but please, Mike’s been through a lot, he’s suffered enough. If you didn’t want to hang out with him then you should’ve said earlier instead of dragging our asses for hours in the mall.” You spat.

“I-“

“Save it, Mike.” You said as you were already holding onto your bike, and soon enough you were pedalling out of the Wheeler household.

You squinted your eyes as the rain poured, drenching yourself in the process.

“Will! Will!” You tried shouting out for him but it seemed impossible as thunder roared above you. Where could’ve he went? Surely he won’t go straight to his house since he’d get a real scolding from Joyce and Jonathan.. Then he’d go to...

A bulb has lit in your mind as you tried your best to keep your eyes open, making a turn, memorizing the all too familiar way.

You could only curse the gods as the rain poured even harder as you reached the entrance to the forest.

Dropping your bike, you started to run, hoping you were right. Hoping that he was in Castle Byers.

“Will!” You shout out, approaching your destination.

You could spot him grabbing a log before swinging it at Castle Byers, effectively hitting it as flakes of wood erupted.

“Will! What are you doing?!” Running to him, you tried to take the log from his hands, but he wasn’t letting go of it any time soon.

“What does it look like I’m doing (Y/N)?!” He screamed, the pain in his voice was evident as he tried to swing the log again, but you tried to hold it down.

“Will, stop! Please let’s talk about this!” You beg. Will stared at you hardly before yanking the log from your grip.

“No, no! I know it was stupid of me to think that we’d still be stuck in that damn basement playing some stupid board game!” He shouts, another hit at the fort. “I should’ve thought better! This, all of this,” He points with his log. “This is stupid, everything in it is stupid!” He takes another swing, effectively knocking the top down. “Maybe I should’ve agreed with mom to move..” You could quietly hear him mumble.

You regained your senses and tried to take the log away from him again, not wanting to cause further damage and to possibly talk some sense into him.

“Will, you have to understand, its not your fault, okay? A lot happened to you, us, but hell, I wouldn’t want to go a day without having you back here.” You began, Will went quiet as both of you were completely drenched in the rain.

“I am sorry if we’ve been ignoring you, me, mike, and Lucas. I don’t even get to have a decent conversation with them without mentioning what to do with their girlfriends...” You slightly chuckle, hoping to lighten Will’s mood.

“Yeah I get it sure girlfriends are pretty cool but friends are better too, like you! You have so much in you, Will, don’t let them ruin your mood now, if you want I could talk some sense into them, which I’m very happy to be of service.”

You could spot the edge of Will’s lips curl up into a smile, before shaking his head and sighing.

As if on cue, the rain slowly started to die down, allowing you to see each other clearer.

“You’ll be alright okay? I know things are a lot and heavy for you to take in but I’m here, Will, you can talk to me, or if you want we can visit the mall, I heard they’ve got a new arcade spot there and possibly talk your mom over with spending the rest of the day there..” You hoped.

Will slowly nods, before finally looking at you.

“I- it just feels like they’re too busy with their ‘girlfriends’ to even ask how you’re doing...” Will says in which you respond with a laugh. “Tell me about it, but hey look on the bright side, we could beat their high scores in the arcade, that’ll tell em something huh?”

“Yeah, that’ll tell them something.” Will agreed with a smile.

“That’s settled then, arcade it is, but how are we going to explain this to your mom?” You say, gesturing to the both of you.

“Let’s just say we went to go for a bike then it rained unexpectedly,” Will laughs. “Then you could possibly stay over with me and then we’d head over to the arcade tomorrow!”

“What about my clothes?” You inquired.

“Then uh- I’ll let you borrow some of mine or mom’s! Our style is not that bad I promise.” Will said excitedly.

You felt a weight being lifted off your chest as Will’s excitement came back with his smile. You had to admit, there was never a good feeling than helping out a friend in need.

“Oh is that so, Byers?” You teased. You could see a faint redness on his cheeks as he nods.

“Yup, so we’d better get a move on! Let’s go!” Will says, pushing you playfully towards where your bikes were.

The rest of the evening was spent with Joyce scolding the both of you but nonetheless agreeing to letting you and Will hang out in the mall tomorrow.

It was going to be one of the memories you and Will would share for the rest of time.

#stranger things #will byers #will byers x reader #will byers imagine #will byers one shot #will byers fic #will byers imagines #stranger things drabbles #stranger things imagines #stranger things x reader #stranger things one shots #stranger things imagine #stranger things fics #stranger things x you #will byers x you #will byers x y/n #refiwrites

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darnell-la · 5 months

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Hi there :)

I'm the anon that put in the request for a non-con Colby Brock fic. As for the premise I'm leaving it all up to you and your comfort levels with the subject matter.

Thank you so much for responding and even considering writing it <3

Hope you have a lovely day <3

3rd persons pov

It’s currently a Friday night, leaving Sam and Colby stressing on what to film. They constantly get requests, but this weekend is the first weekend in months that they have with their friends. They’ve been traveling a lot lately.

Y/n isn’t new to the group, but she’s barely around. She and Colby used to talk, but that ended quickly. It didn’t even take them a month to break whatever they had, up. Colby was too obsessed and overprotective.

She’s currently sitting on the couch with the group, laughing and talking about how scary the place is that they’re going to explore tonight.

Y/n’s a very forgiving person, and this is why she’s sitting next to Colby. Sometimes they still seem like they’re dating, but they’re not. They just had so much chemistry together that it’s hard to stay friends.

When they do argue though, things go sideways. He usually makes a big deal in private so people won’t see him for what he really is but in public, they just make smart comments about each other.

Y/n hasn’t talked to Sam about the way Colby acts, no matter how many times Sam asks her. They’ve been best friends for too long for them both to argue over someone Colby has known for only a couple of years.

“Hide in seek at an abandoned mall?” Sam asked the group. They’re just naming things to do for his and Colby’s YouTube channel. “Yeah, sound good honestly,” Kevin said as the others agreed.

The group got up and began to put their shoes on. Colby would glance at y/n every once in a while, as she was busy talking to Tara.

Colby can’t seem to get her out of his head. He’s still angry at her for leaving him, just because he was trying to make her better for him.

Why would a boyfriend want his girlfriend out all night at a house party? Why does a boyfriend want his girlfriend to have close boyfriends? He can’t stand her around any dude. All of their argument involved another man.

“Hey, y/n? Could I, uh, barrow to you for a second?” Colby asked as he walked up to her and Tara. “Of course,” she smiled and walked off with Colby to the kitchen in his shared house.

“So, uh, who will you be partnered with while me and Sam seek?” He asked. “No one, actually. I like doing things alone, but I’ll be close to others maybe,” she said, making Colby bite down on his lips.

He’s been trying his best to keep himself from being his old self, but it’s hard for y/n. Why the fuck would she walk around an abandoned mall by herself?

“Don’t you think that’s dangerous?” Colby asked. “Yeah, but we’re all doing it. Plus we won’t be too far from each other,” she said. “Yeah, but you’ll still be alone. Like, that’s not safe,” Colby said.

“I know, Colby, but I got myself, okay? Plus Max might hide with me,” y/n said low, not wanting to make this a big deal. “Oh, so you’re dating again?” Colby asked, sounding angry.

“So what if I am? We’re too old to be holding in something that clearly couldn’t work in any way possible,” y/n said as Colby chuckled, trying to keep himself calm.

“You’re very bold for saying that,” he said. “Bold? This has nothing to do with being bold. We simply just can’t work out,” y/n said. “Well maybe if you weren’t so thoughtless, we could have,” Colby fired back.

“Thoughtless? No, what’s thoughtless is you being insecure then trying to make me feel bad for shit I didn’t even know you didn’t like. You couldn’t even be an adult and ask me to do better. You demanded me, and I don’t do that shit,” y/n began to get angry.

“Well you should have, and maybe you wouldn’t be running around trying to find someone like me,” Colby started getting cocky. “I’m definitely not trying to find another you. I’m searching hard for the complete opposite,” Y/n said.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she took a couple of steps out of the kitchen, but was yanked back by her arm by Colby. She went to tell him to stop, and that it hurt, but he pushed her up against the wall and gripped her neck tightly.

“You’ll never find anyone better than me, y/n. Never! So I’d advise you to drop this I’ve moved on act, and come back to me with an apology,” Colby said as y/n gasped for air.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” Colby said before letting her neck go and walking off. Y/n coughed as a few tears ran down her cheek. This is why they can’t be together.

“Holly shit, where are you guys!?” Y/n heard Sam yell in the mall as him and Colby were searching to find everyone. They have 12 people to find, which won’t be so easy. Y/n’s off alone since Max wanted to hide somewhere scarier. She wanted to stay in the light.

Walking around an abandoned mall is pretty scary, yet very nice and lovely.

It’s true what Colby said though. Y/n shouldn’t be alone, but who is he to try and keep her safe? He’s so ignorant. Y/n loves Colby but there are too many things off about him.

Y/n walked along the lights, staring at all the art painted on these run-down walls as everyone’s probably scared in the dark. She laughed to herself, knowing she could never sit in the dark for an hour and wait for someone to find her.

“It’s pretty dangerous up here,” y/n turned around quickly at the familiar voice. “Bro, what the fuck, Colby,” y/n said, actually feeling her heart rise faster than it has ever gotten.

“I told you, yet you still fucking did it,” Colby shook his head. “You know,” Colby scoffed, seeming angry already, which she knows doesn’t take him long. “That’s why we never worked out,” Colby said, causing y/n to take a deep breath, already annoyed with him.

“Because you’re so damn full of yourself. You never fucking listen and you make sure to do things to fuck with me. Is that why you’re ducking around with Max?” Colby asked.

“Colby, that’s none of your business,” Y/n said as he slowly started walking towards her. “Yes, it is. You’re my business, y/n, so answer the fucking question. Are you fucking with Max to get back at me?” Colby asked.

“You guys don’t even talk. So what would that even bother you?” Y/n asked. He’s not a step away from her. “Because we’re not done,” he said. “Yes, we are, Colby,” Y/n said, which she shouldn’t have.

Next thing she knew, Colby’s hand was around her neck and she was pulled around a corner and slammed into a wall. Colby pressed his body against her so she couldn’t go anywhere.

“You just don’t understand, don’t you?” Colby asked as he unzipped his pants. “Colby, stop it! Let me go!” She tried saying loudly but the grip on her neck wouldn’t let her.

“The moment you gave me a chance was the moment you became mine no matter what. So that I broke up with you shit, doesn’t me dick to me,” Colby growled in her ear.

Colby pulled y/n off of the wall and then detached his hand from her neck, just to connect them through her hair and push her down to the floor. Now she’s on her knees, trying to make him let her go, but he won’t.

“It’s time to put you back where you belong,” Colby said, seconds before forcing his cock down her throat. She’s done this a lot. Even when he used to force himself in her mouth, it was never in a situation like this.

She began bagging and tearing up and he groaned and fucked her face. “Fucking hell, y/‘n. You still suck cock perfectly,” he said as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

“Just like old times when you loved being stuffed. But now you’re a little stuck-up bitch, and forcing me to do this,” he fake pouted before slamming balls deep into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he used his free hand to grab the side of her face. He pushed her head back, causing her to be pinned against the wall as he used her mouth for pleasure and punishment.

Y/n’s been crying, hating herself for even meeting Colby. She should have never given him a chance. Who knew he would have ended up like this with her? He just seemed too sweet, but in actuality, he’s a fucking monster.

“You take me so well, baby. If only you listened, I would be going easy on you,” Colby looked into the poor girl's eyes as his thrust got sloppy and he eventually came into her mouth with a loud groan.

Colby pushed Y/n off of him, causing her to fall to the ground. He fixed himself up and then quickly pulled her to her feet by her hair as she whined.

“This was a warning,” Colby said. He looked at her glazed lips as he hit his own. She doesn’t know how perfect she is for him. “I caught you!” Colby yelled loudly to make it seem like he found y/n.

“Act normal or we’ll have a problem,” Colby threatened before letting her go and walking away. She walked with him, wanting to get this game over with and go home.

One month later

“Don’t fucking touch me, Colby. You’ve already gone too far,” y/n said as she yanked her hand away from him at the bottom of the steps.

Sam had asked her to come over for another friend group video. After they were done, everyone decided to stay around and talk with loud music and drink.

Colby of course found a way to get her alone in the kitchen and talk to her. It started off nice, but he could tell y/n was a bit off. “Have you been drinking,” was all he had to say to set her off.

That’s when she inevitably stormed to the stairs to go to the guest room Sam had told her she could stay in since she’s the only friend who doesn’t live as close as the others.

Y/n stormed upstairs with Colby right behind her. “Don’t start this shit, y/n. You’ve already pissed me off with that drinking shit,” he said as she scoffed. “As if you don’t drink daily,” she replied.

That was when Colby sped over towards her as her back was still turned and grabbed her hair. “Colby-“ y/n tried yelling but he covered her mouth and pushed her into the guest room she was walking to.

“You just keep fucking testing me,” Colby angrily said as he shut the door and locked it. “You Know that I stand on business, so why do you continue to do this shit? Get rid of the damn attitude!” He demanded as I backed up.

“You’re sick, Colby, do you know that? Do you really expect me to want you after what you made me do!?” Y/n genuinely asked. Colby has lost it, but he doesn’t care. He needs her.

“I’m not sick. I just need you,” he said as he stepped towards her. She kept backing up until she hit a bed. Now her stomach sank to the ground. She knows what he did last time, and now that theirs a bed in here, he can do more.

“Help-“ y/n yelled for help but she was quickly cut off by Colby’s hand. They wouldn’t be able to hear her anyway with Sam’s loud music playing downstairs, and Colby knows that. But the thought of manhandling her always crosses his mind, and he can’t help but do it.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled at her as he used his free hand to yank at her spaghetti-strapped crop until it ripped off of her body. “No!” Her yell was muffled as he continued by forcing her shorts down until they were off.

“Stop! Stop!” She yelled, but this only angered him more. “You use to love this shit,” Colby said as he pulled his sweats down as well as his boxers. He’s always been too big when they had sex, and now that he’ll be rough, she doesn’t know if she can take it.

“You missed me?” Colby asked, rubbing his leaking tip around her clit. He knows he fucking misses her. He can’t go a day without emptying a load because of her. He’s punished him for too long.

“No-“ y/n went to deny but Colby forced his way into her without warning. He pushed until he was fully in her, filling her up with so much cock, she could barely beg him to stop.

“You’re always so fucking wet,” Colby groaned as he leaned down, inches away from her face, and proceeded to thrust slowly in and out of her cunt. He let her mouth go just to hear her whine and cry.

“Please stop this,” she begged, eyes watering and breath quickening. “No,” he thrust into her hard, causing her to yelp. He continued until he had a nice rhythm and paste.

“All this time you made me wear a condom to hide these wet masterpieces. Just for that, I’m going to fill you up until you’re leaking all night,” he threatened as she cried.

Colby licked her tears then began sucking at her neck, making sure to mark her as his. “Once we’re done here, you’re going to have a good ole sleep right next to me, so you understand?” He asked, but she didn’t respond. She kept crying. “Good,” he said, keeping his paste strong.

#18+#18+ content #18+ fic #18+ minors dni #18+ only #18+ post #smut #colby brock #sam and colby #dark!colby brock #cnc k!nk #rough cnc #rough kink #roughfuck

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latelyanobsession · 2 years

Text

Bang Bang

summary you hadn’t known billy hargrove long, but you won’t let the impact he made on you go unnoticed.

warnings angst, pining, grief, and pure unadulterated tears

word count 1,228

note I was writing for my series when Nancy Sinatra’s Bang Bang - My Baby Shot Me Down came up on my Spotify and I just said to myself, ‘wow fuck me up fam.’ And so I thought I shouldn’t keep the tears to myself anymore. tried to once again write this from a gn!reader perspective.

As always any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You’d barely even known Billy Hargrove for a year.

Not even a year.

It might be better to say you hardly knew him.

And yet a part of you felt like you’d known him forever.

When you heard the helicopters roaring by overhead as you stood in your yard that muggy July morning...

You somehow knew in the pit of your stomach that something had gone terribly wrong.

Going inside to ask your parents about it, your mother already had on the television.

The local news affiliate, WCPK was broadcasting from the Starcourt Mall.

“There’s been an accident...” your father said from his armchair, clicking up the volume.

Hope Freeman was reporting in front of the south entrance near the food court.

Smoke was billowing in large plumes from the roof behind her.

But that wasn’t what upset you.

Behind the police tape, to the right of the camera frame, was a busted up muscle car next to a totaled convertible.

There was only one guy in town that you knew who drove a car like that.

Who drove a 1979 Chevy Camaro Z28.

You grabbed your keys.

It couldn’t be true.

There was already a crowd at the mall. You couldn’t even begin to count how many news vans there were.

This was probably the biggest story to ever hit Hawkins to date. But that wasn’t what you cared about.

Your feet carried you to the exact spot. As far as the police tape would let you go.

It was true.

There. Right in front of you.

The passenger’s side of the camaro was wrecked. The sideview mirror was hanging by a thread. The hood was bent up, pulled away from the frame.

The windshield was smashed beyond recognition and ... were there bullet holes?

Water was dripping from the chassis but the remains were still smoldering. The contracting metal still making small clinks and pops as it cooled.

The car looked so horrific. It terrified you thinking of the violence that had occurred overnight.

While you had been none the wiser. Sleeping comfortably.

You felt sick. Guilty. How had you not known?

On the far east side there were still a few ambulances packing up.

You needed to know.

The EMTs were not busy. There was no flurry of activity.

Weren’t they supposed to be helping people?

A gurney was rolling out one of the bay doors. There was a sheet covering their form.

You really, truly didn’t want to think about this. The possibility of who was under there.

Hitting the curb, an arm rolled out.

You choked out a loud sob, your eyes seeing the ring on the middle finger.

Reality was cruel.

You had just seen him a couple days ago.

You had a massive argument that night. He said the most the most terrible things to you.

Things that you never would’ve believed he would say. It didn’t really seem like he himself believed he was saying them.

He wanted you gone. Out of his life. At any cost he said.

You didn’t believe him. It was breaking you.

Shattering you to pieces to hear each biting word come from the lips of someone you trusted so dearly.

Someone you genuinely loved but had no heart to tell.

He pushed you out.

Slamming the door right in your face, and taking everything you thought you had figured out in life with him.

The funeral was miserable.

Not only for yourself but because you knew it was exactly the kind of thing he would have hated.

All the dressed up pomp and circumstance just to be planted in the ground and forgotten by people who pretend and never really knew who the hell you were in the first place.

The fake smiles. The fake tears. The false and empty “I’m sorry for your loss...”

He would have absolutely hated it.

The only person who really seemed to enjoy themselves at his funeral was his father.

The man couldn’t seem to get enough of people’s handshakes and condolences.

He fed on their pity and attention in a way that nauseated you.

You spent most of the service sitting next to his sister Max.

Neither of you said much to one another, but somehow it seemed like you both understood how awful and how stupid this all felt.

You both took solace in each other’s company if only for that reason alone.

It wasn’t even two weeks after the funeral when you heard his father was going to scrap the camaro.

You offered him cash on the spot. You didn’t even care if it was over half your savings that you had been scraping together since you were twelve.

You could not let one more piece of him be destroyed. You just couldn’t.

You lost count of how many times you’d cried since that July morning.

But the time that you cried the hardest was when the camaro was hauled into your driveway.

You had to pry the door open, the hinges creaking in distress.

Glass was everywhere. The dashboard was melted and singed with smoke.

Sitting in the tape deck, half inserted was a Def Leppard cassette, warped from the heat of the fire.

Below in the center console, were his most prized possessions.

His aviators, a zippo lighter, half a remaining pack of Marlboros and two other cassettes. Scorpions and Metallica.

You sat in that car for hours. Crying.

When you couldn’t cry any longer you would just sit there quietly and think.

Think of all the times you had been in this car.

All the times he’d yelled at you for turning down the music. Or rolling the window down. Or touching anything.

Arguing about his car. Arguing in general.

Laughing. God you missed his laugh.

His smile. The way he’d bashfully look away when a genuine grin would grace his lips.

God it all hurt so much.

Why couldn’t it have been you instead?

You wouldn’t have cared. You’d have willingly taken a bullet, run through flames. Gone to hell and back.

If it just could have been you instead.

The thing you hated most about all of this was how little his death affected others.

It felt like your entire world had stopped spinning.

And people. Classmates. Your parents.

Had the nerve. The audacity. To continue on like nothing had ever happened.

You felt like screaming. You wanted them to hurt as much as you did.

They didn’t understand. They didn’t see.

And so you sat in that car. And you would scream. And you would cry.

Eventually you worked up the strength to start cleaning it up.

You cleaned out the glass and the debris.

You replaced the windshield.

You took it to the shop got replacement parts and had the body worked on.

And each time you fixed up another little part of it.

You would talk to him.

You would talk to Billy.

You’d sit in the car and chat just like you had.

You replaced the tape deck and got new cassettes.

When the car was driveable you started taking it out. Not on long outings.

You knew he’d kill you if you did that.

Just enough to keep it working.

And you would drive that car to all the places he liked and the places he’d been.

No one was going to forget Billy Hargrove.

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leviathans-watching · 2 years

Note

Hi!! This is my first time asking for anything so please bear with me lol-

so today is my birthday and I’d love it if you would write some fluff with the choose me trio!! It’d be absolutely amazing if you did all 7 brothers but it’d be perfectly fine if you only did the choose me boys! Hell, even just one of them would be perfect and make my day entirely. I don’t really have any preference for what you write, maybe them taking you out on a date or just hanging out at the HoL, really just whatever you feel like they would do for mcs birthday!

Thank you for reading this, and for being such an amazing writer!! I hope you have an amazing day and remember to stay hydrated and take plenty of breaks!

choose me trio bday dates

includes: mammon, levi, asmo x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .4k | rated g | m.list

warnings: food mentions/descriptions

a/n: HAPPY BDAY i hope you had a great day!! and sorry I'm only able to get you this now! i hope you enjoy. and tysm, that really means a lot! i will!

please reblog 0v0

➳ mammon wakes you up early, excitement clear in his eyes. “get up, get up!” he insists, pulling your covers back. “i got an awesome date planned for ya! you’re gonna love it!” once you’re finally up, he drags you to the mall where you go to the devildom version of build-a-bear, getting little karasu plushies with each other’s voices in them. he then takes you to lunch at a cute little cafe he noticed you eyeing, then to the movies for a show you’ve been dying to see. he’s attentive and adoring all day, and you’re touched by the clear signs that he’s been paying attention to you. it truly is the perfect day, and you make sure to thank him properly in a way that may or may not involve your lips on his.

➳ levi enlists simeon, luke, and solomon’s help to make you a banner and birthday breakfast, having it waiting for you when you get up. his brothers are all pissed and jealous, as was definitely his intention, and you can’t help but smile, savoring his satisfaction and the good food. he then drags you to his room where he gives you your gift, a new game for the two of you, a new show you can watch together, and a figurine that you’d had to pass on due to its price. you’re more than touched and immediately insist on starting the show, much to his delight. he then unveils the last of his gifts, an awesome ice-cream sundae bar for you to enjoy while you watch the show.

➳ asmo spends a lazy morning in with you, pampering you to the end of the earth and back. he won’t allow any argument. “this day is for you,” he insists, pushing you back down in front of the mirror with a smile. “and you deserve to be spoiled.” later, much later, when the two of you are finally presentable, he takes you to a higher end, romantic restaurant, where he gives you his gift, a beautiful ring that perfectly suits your personality. the waitress comments on how cute of a couple you are, and asmo preens. the night ends with both of you stuffed on fancy restaurant dessert and a few new posts on devilgram featuring the two of you.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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picklesonjupiter · 5 months

Text

On AO3, for @hp-yuletide-bliss , cw: one smut scene at the end

Excited children and weary parents waited in a long queue to meet Santa Clause, and Harry’s job was to keep the queue moving as quickly as possible. He welcomed parents with sympathetic smiles and guided their children to Santa's lap.

He wore the apparel of a mall elf: bright red bottoms, a polyester green top, and hideous elf shoes. Being a mall elf was the last thing Harry wanted, but money was tight, so he had no choice. Luckily, he didn’t have to suffer on his own, as Malfoy took on the job as well.

Malfoy gave out candy canes after the pictures were taken, smiling and speaking in a saccharine manner. It was shocking to watch Malfoy behave civilly with the so-called plebeians, as he put it. Without the costume, Malfoy was a prissy prat.

Harry wasn’t sure what to think of Malfoy. He had met Malfoy at the campus dormitory during his first year, when he was moving in, and he hadn’t particularly liked his demeanor. It was a shame since Malfoy was just his type; most of his previous partners were blonde and of similar build to Malfoy.

At five in the afternoon, two other elves took over Harry's and Malfoy's roles. It had been a rough day due to two children peeing on Santa, and one child had been missing for about an hour. Harry was glad he could finally leave for home.

Grumbling, he began undressing in the room Santa and the elves were told to use. From the corner of his eye, he watched Malfoy take off the top, showing off his toned abs and rosy nipples, which made Harry salivate.

“Enjoying the show?”

Turning away, Harry said, “I wasn’t looking.” His cheeks flushed.

“I’ve noticed you watching me for the last few days. Yet, you haven’t had the courage to ask me out.”

Wide eyed, he asked, “You want me to ask you out?” He watched as Malfoy put on trousers and then his brown loafers. Having stopped dressing, Harry was half clothed.

“Obviously,” Malfoy arched a blonde eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I weren’t intrigued.”

“Oh.” His flush worsened as it reached the tips of his ears. “Well, would you like to go out for coffee sometime?”

“I could go for some coffee right now, then maybe I’ll invite you over for dinner.” Malfoy winked.

Harry felt his stomach churn and his heart flutter. Was he really going to do this? Malfoy's personality didn't even appeal to him.

“Alright,” he said while lacing his trainers.

He walked out with Malfoy beside him, and the silence was heavy with uncertainty. What if it didn’t go well?

“I was wondering, why did you take up a job as an elf?” Harry asked, breaking the silence.

Malfoy sighed, slumping his shoulders. “It's a long story, but to cut it short, my father demanded something of me, and I refused. He decided to punish me by taking away my allowance, and I won’t receive my inheritance until my twenty-fifth birthday.” He gestured helplessly. “Here I am, working a minimum wage job, as if I weren't the Malfoy heir.”

They approached the coffee shop's long queue. The holiday season brought out more people as they were shopping for gifts.

“I can just imagine how awkward your holiday will be with your family.”

“I wish I could stay on campus for winter break, but my mother always hosts a Christmas dinner that I must attend. My godfather recently got married to my ex-convict uncle, and they will be coming, so I know it will be entertaining.” Malfoy said, with humor in his eyes.

“I’m not looking forward to going back to see my family either. My dad thinks that I shouldn’t work because he has the money to sustain me. However, my mom says I should learn to earn my own income.” Harry stared at the menu without taking notice of its contents. “Sometimes, I never want to leave, to avoid the arguments, but it would break their hearts if I never returned.” He confessed, looking back at Malfoy.

The blonde man stared back at him with compassion.

“It appears that we are more alike than I thought.”

Having reached the front of the queue, they were in front of a cashier, asking for their order. Harry ordered his usual, and Malfoy ordered a holiday drink. To let the next person order, they moved to a corner, and Harry's shoulder brushed against Malfoy's.

Malfoy smiled, and his gray eyes shone with some unknown emotion. Harry had never seen him so relaxed. He was absolutely gorgeous . Harry couldn't resist kissing him.

Malfoy's lips were soft and warm. He leaned into the kiss, and Harry felt his heart race. They stayed like that for a few moments before breaking apart. There was a dazed look on Malfoy's face, which Harry was sure he mirrored.

“If I’d known you..." Malfoy trailed off and touched his lips.

“Yeah.” Harry whispered and drew closer to Malfoy's heat, like a moth to a flame. Needing some form of contact, he caught the other man's hand and interlaced their fingers.

Rather than withdrawing his hand, Malfoy gripped Harry's hand tightly and asked, “Would you like to come over to my place?”

“I would love that.” Harry beamed and kissed Malfoy’s hand.

A barista interrupted further conversation, announcing their order. Harry and Malfoy grabbed their drinks and headed out.

☕🎄☕🎄☕🎄

Entering Malfoy’s flat, he walked behind the blonde man, removing his coat and trainers at Malfoy’s direction. There was a large Christmas tree in Malfoy's living room, decorated with silver and gold ornaments. Stockings and garland adorned the electric fireplace. Harry was sure Malfoy couldn’t afford this place with the meager wage they earned as elves.

“Make yourself at home,” Malfoy said as he walked toward the kitchen, which was visible from the living room. “What would you like to eat? I can make just about anything.”

“Anything is fine.” Harry responded as he looked at the photos hanging off the walls.

There were many photos of Malfoy with a blonde woman and a man who looked very similar to him. Harry could now see where Malfoy got his looks from. Among the photos were some of (Harry suspected) Malfoy with his friends: a handsome man with a dark complexion and a woman with a bob haircut were reoccurring. They looked like the posh sort—nothing like Harry’s friends.

Harry approached the kitchen where Malfoy had taken out ingredients and turned on the stove. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his muscular forearms.

“How can I help?” Harry asked, trying to ignore his growing arousal.

Malfoy gazed at him assessingly before answering. “You can prepare the coleslaw. All you need to do is finely chop the cabbage and shred the carrots. I'll prepare the dressing, then you can toss it all together.”

“Alright,” he said, washing his hands.

Malfoy handed him a cutting board; he sharpened and rinsed the knife before handing it to him. Harry was shocked. Malfoy looked like the sort of man who had servants cook for him all his entire life, yet he appeared so at ease in the kitchen.

Malfoy started the stove as Harry washed the vegetables. Harry began chopping the cabbage, and the silence was pleasant, but he wanted to learn more about Malfoy, so he spoke up.

“Please don't take this the wrong way, but I am surprised at your ability to cook. What made you interested in cooking?” Harry set aside the red cabbage and began chopping the green cabbage.

Malfoy chuckled and said with humor, “I am not offended, as you are one of many people surprised at my ability. There are a number of reasons for my interest in cooking, but my godfather is a major one. He taught me how to cook despite my father's objection. It was the only thing I had that wasn't about being the Malfoy heir.” Malfoy sighed, seasoning the salmon filets.

Harry asked Malfoy where the box grater was, having finished chopping the cabbage.

“It’s on the cabinet to your left.” Harry found it and thanked Malfoy.

As Malfoy placed the filets on the pan, he said, “My godfather, Severus, was the first person I told about my decision to study culinary arts. Unlike my parents, he was supportive. The reason my father cut me off was because I refused to drop out to pursue a law degree. And then there’s my mother.” He sighed. “She does not believe I will succeed in my chosen field.”

“That’s awful. At least you have one person on your side.” Harry finished shredding the carrots. “I’m done.” He told Malfoy.

Malfoy allowed the salmon to sear, washed his hands, and prepared the dressing. “Can you handle heat?” He asked, reaching for the red pepper flakes shaker.

Harry assured him that he could handle spicy food. He mixed the cabbage, carrots, and dressing together in a glass bowl. Malfoy told him to place it on the dining table and to wait there, as the salmon would soon be ready.

Harry was having a good time so far. Malfoy was not what he had prejudged him to be. His mum often warned him not to make assumptions about people based on one encounter. He should have heeded her advice.

Malfoy brought out two plates of pan-seared salmon filets garnished with lemon slices. The room was filled with a delicious aroma that made Harry's stomach grumble.

“Smells great,” he said, staring intently at food as Malfoy placed a plate in front of him. He waited for Malfoy to take a seat before taking a bite of the salmon. Upon taking the first bite, his eyes rolled back, and he moaned with pleasure. “This is the best salmon I have ever eaten," Harry praised.

Malfoy blushed prettily. Harry's heartbeat soared. Harry went for the coleslaw instead of kissing him again. There will be time for that later.

🐟🎄🐟🎄🐟🎄

Harry delighted in kissing the blonde man, his cock swelling. Harry brushed his tongue against Malfoy’s lips, asking for entrance, and Malfoy obliged him. With his tongue, he explored every corner of his mouth, savoring each taste. Malfoy's hands roamed over Harry's body, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

He drew him onto his lap, kissing him nonstop. Harry was becoming addicted to Malfoy’s kisses. Malfoy’s arse rubbed against Harry’s erection, and Harry let out a moan of pleasure. Malfoy wiggled his arse until Harry’s cock was between his cheeks. It sent a jolt of electricity through him. Even through the clothing separating them, Harry enjoyed it.

Malfoy slowly gyrated his hips, creating friction and heat. Harry could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He could feel himself about to climax.

“Fuck, yes. Just like that.” Harry groaned, clutching Malfoy’s hips with brutal strength. There would be bruises the next morning. He came in his trousers, shouting Malfoy’s name.

Malfoy pouted, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “I didn’t get to come.” The hard cock poking Harry’s abdomen proved as much.

Harry chuckled and said, “Well, I don’t want to let you down, since this is our first time together.” He walked into Malfoy’s bedroom and shut the door.

💋🎄💋🎄💋🎄

Harry woke up in Malfoy’s bed with the blonde man in his arms. In his fog of having just woken, Harry thought he had found love. It was an absurd thought. He couldn’t love someone he barely knew.

Dad had told Harry that he had fallen in love with his mom at first sight, but Harry was skeptical. Love didn’t come so easily. What he was feeling couldn’t be love. Harry was mistaking lust for deeper emotions.

Malfoy rolled over in his arms, opening his gray eyes, and kissed him. “Morning.”

Harry’s heart fluttered, and he realized he had been wrong. He was his dad’s son.

#HP Yuletide Bliss 2023 #drarry #smut scene #draco x harry #draco malfoy #harry potter

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marypsue · 1 year

Text

On a lighter note, I’ve now finished three chapters of former heroes who quit too late (the upcoming third and final part of the AU where (almost) all the main kids from Stranger Things have powers), solved (I think) a conflict between my outline and my timeline that I hadn’t realised was there until I got there in the writing, and finished outlining up to the end of chapter nine. It’s looking like it’s going to be more than eleven chapters in total, and I’m hazarding a guess it’ll be fifteen or more before I’m finished.

In celebration of another chapter finished, and also because I’m stealing @daddygrandpaandthebeaver‘s very wise idea for Sneak Peek Sundays, here is a tiny little sample from that fic!

...

They make it to the movie with barely seconds to spare, slipping through the mall’s service hallways and into the theatre once the coast is clear. Mike’s ears are still burning from the way too knowing – and way too judgmental, considering his love life – look Steve gave the three of them before he let them through Scoops Ahoy’s service entrance and into the hidden maze of hallways running all through the mall. And Dustin did not have to make such a big hairy deal about how he wasn’t going with them, when El asked. All that winking and grinning? Unnecessary.

Part of Mike’s wishing he hadn’t chickened out at the last minute and invited Will as well as El just so he wouldn’t have to admit that this was supposed to be a date. But mostly, he’s just desperately grateful Will’s here to be a buffer. Being alone, in the dark, with a girl he likes – that’s way scarier than any zombie movie could ever be.

There’s also the tiny little fact that Mike needed to invite Will over, too, for cover. And it would’ve been pretty shitty to just leave him at Mike’s house alone while Mike and El snuck out to the movie. Not to mention, then Mike’s mom would’ve asked questions, and the whole thing would’ve fallen apart.

Because El’s so not supposed to be here.

Hopper and Mrs. Byers have been giving her more leeway, since last fall, since all that shit went down and she came back with a sister who definitely can’t – and definitely won’t – be locked up in a little cabin somewhere deep in the woods her whole life. Mike’s still not totally clear on what Sara’s whole deal is, but apparently, if she doesn’t spend time around crowds pretty regularly, she’ll die. Or somebody will, anyway. Mike’s pretty sure El already tried that argument on Hopper, with no results, but whatever.

Anyway. El had managed to successfully argue that, if Sara gets to go pretty much where she wants when she wants, it should be safe enough for El to have some more freedom too. She gets to visit the guys and Max at their houses, now, if she wants, and Hopper and Mrs. Byers have even let her stay the night a couple times when Mike’s got the whole Party staying over. And El can go out to the woods or the lake with them, so long as she’s ‘careful’.

But they’re supposed to avoid anywhere where government goons could easily blend in, anywhere where somebody’s likely to recognise El. Crowds, and big events, and public places.

The special preview of Day of the Dead at the theatre in the new mall, Mike’s pretty sure, counts as all three.

But the awed look El’s turning on the enormous screen as they settle into three empty seats, her huge eyes reflecting back the glow of the FEATURE PRESENTATION screen, is totally worth whatever trouble Mike might get into for this.

“Have you ever been to a movie theatre before?” he whispers, leaning over so he can talk more directly into El’s ear. He still gets shushed by some annoyed old lady in the row behind them, though.

El doesn’t say anything, just shakes her head. She doesn’t look away from the screen, enraptured.

For a second, Mike feels a twinge of uncertainty. Maybe he should’ve picked out something tamer for her first movie on the big screen. What if the larger-than-life zombies freak her out, and she accidentally uses her powers, and the whole theatre sees, and then they get caught and taken away by the government? Or, they don’t get caught and taken away, but it’s a near miss, and then El hates him so much for putting her in danger that she never forgives him and Hopper never lets Mike speak to her again and everything is ruined –

Mike forces himself to take a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. El knows the difference between movies and real life. Obviously. And if she gets too scared – Mike’s here to calm her down. Reassure her. With, like Lucas had said when they’d come up with this plan in the first place, a warm, strong arm to put around her to protect her. And then, one thing leads to another, and –

Mike glances down at his right arm, lying on the armrest, only inches from where El’s leaning forward with both hands clasped between her knees, still gazing in awe at the screen. He’s never really thought about how scrawny his arms are, before.

He turns to his left, to ask Will to share out the snacks they snuck in. But Will’s staring at the screen, too. For a second, Mike thinks he’s just already really interested in the movie. But there’s nothing about the featureless white room and the girl sitting in the middle of it that would explain why the frozen stare on Will’s face is slowly shading into fear. Nothing that would explain the arctic chill of dread that’s spreading out from him, like a ripple in the pool of excitement and nervousness all around them.

Whatever’s going on with him, it looks – familiar. Too familiar. And now some of that dread is Mike’s, too.

“Will?” Mike says, reaching out to put a hand over Will’s wrist.

There’s a snap, and a flash of light. Mike yanks his stinging hand back with a yelp. Will yelps, too, pulling away from Mike with wild eyes, like – like for a second, he doesn’t recognise Mike.

And the lights go out.

#stranger things #this is mary's fic tag #yes I do outline as I go #most fics start with a beginning and an end and a few major signposts throughout the Dreaded Middle #and then as I write the shape of what's between those signposts becomes clearer and clearer #and sometimes interesting detours present themselves #having too rigid an outline makes it hard to embrace serendipity but not having enough of an outline makes it easy to get mired #this worked for me for the monster longfic so I'm hoping it'll continue to work for me #the hawkins indiana psychic baby boom #former heroes who quit too late

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almost-a-class-act · 1 year

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Fluffy Seasonal Prompts - December 22nd

Character A is side hustling as a mall Santa and Character B gets their picture taken with them for whatever reason.

Fandom: Band of Brothers (HBO) Pairing: Roe/Luz Author's Note: Here I am breaking my own rule again of writing the same characters too many times in various pairings, but this pairing is frankly galaxy-brained and I wasn't gonna leave this prompt month without doing it. I will be compiling my holiday fills and posting them together on AO3 after Christmas, where you can find me under roaroftheninth.

Eugene is starting to run out of ways to convince his niece that getting a photo with Santa is a net win for her. It doesn’t help that he’s even less convinced of it than she is; all of her arguments about not wanting to sit on some random old man’s lap are pretty understandable to him.

“Look, if I bring you back to your mom and we didn’t get a picture with Santa, neither of us are ever going to hear the end of it,” he says, appealing to her seven-year-old sense of reason as a last resort.

He’s crouched down in front of her, and that’s why she’s able to reach out and poke him directly in the middle of the chest. “My mom told me about stranger danger. How come your mom didn’t tell you?”

“Santa’s not a stranger,” Eugene says patiently. “You came here last year. You’ve met him before.”

“I don’t think so,” she says firmly.

Eugene sighs. “What if I go over and meet him first? Then I can introduce him to you, and he won’t be a stranger anymore.”

Clara mulls that over. “If we both meet him, does that mean we get two candy canes?”

Eugene glances back over his shoulder, at where Santa is chit-chatting with the elf who takes the photos. There is a large bowl full of green-and-red striped candy canes next to the camera tripod, presumably to give out to children. “I’m sure we can ask,” he says.

Clara nods, slowly. “Okay.” She reaches out and takes his hand, and lets Eugene walk her as far as the boundary that demarcates the border of Santa’s area – ‘the North Pole’, as proclaimed by the sign next to it.

There aren’t any other kids waiting in the line; it’s mid-morning on a school day, but Clara woke up ostensibly not feeling good and Eugene is taking her on his Christmas errands since her mother has to work, and the not feeling good seems to have gone away the moment her mother relented and told her she didn’t have to go to school. As such, Santa catches sight of them at once and waves them over.

Eugene glances down at Clara, who is eyeballing Santa pretty hard, and then resolves himself that it doesn’t matter if he looks foolish in a mostly-deserted mall and steps into the North Pole.

“Hi, Santa,” he says, as he approaches. He glances back, making sure Clara is still hanging around, watching.

From up close, Santa can’t be more than twenty-five behind his big fake beard. He smiles, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in merriment. “Hello, grown-up kid.”

“Gene,” he supplies. “I told my niece – her name’s Clara – that you and her have met before, but she doesn’t remember. She’s a little worried about you being a stranger.”

“That’s a smart thing to be worried about,” Santa says. He reaches out, and Eugene shakes his hand very solemnly. Santa then leans around Eugene and offers Clara a wave. She does not wave back.

“You have to sit on him,” she calls.

“What?” Eugene frowns, since that was definitely not part of the bargain. “No, grown-ups can’t sit on Santa. We’re too big. Right, Santa?”

“Some grown-ups can,” says Santa, with a twinkle in his eye. “In very special cases. I think we can make an exception for Uncle Gene. If he wants to, of course.”

Eugene is aware of the pink spots on his cheeks, and he steadfastly does not look at Santa for a moment, focusing on Clara, who is giving him a pointed look as if to say, Yes, Uncle Gene, embarrass yourself in front of an improbably charming mall Santa by sitting in his actual lap.

“I – well.” Eugene braces himself, and turns around. Dropping his voice, he says, “You don’t have to do this.”

“This is not even the weirdest thing to happen to me this morning, trust me,” Santa says.

Eugene hesitates, then steps forward and sits himself gingerly on Santa’s knee. Santa taps him on the back, kindly, and says, “You might as well tell me what you want for Christmas.”

“To not have to be in charge of this next year,” Eugene mutters.

Santa laughs. “You’re doing a great job, Uncle Gene.”

Eugene is acutely aware of the way his hand is still resting, warm, on the small of his back. “Thank you.”

Santa winks. “Any time.”

It is such a surprisingly easy sell getting Clara to come over after that that Eugene wonders if she’s just been having him on the whole time. Afterward, once she has informed Santa of her list twelve miles long, including the iPad she had been told not to ask for, and the two of them have taken an admittedly adorable photo together, Eugene hangs back a moment as Clara happily digs into the bowl of candy canes.

“I appreciate you being a good sport, Santa,” he says.

Santa grins. “Grown-up kids call me George,” he replies. “Come back any time.”

#HBO War Barely Coherent Christmas Chaos #band of brothers #fanfiction #roaroftheninth #holiday prompt fill #christmas fluff

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kuroosweakness · 3 years

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domestic things the haikyuu boys do to show that they care

↳ it all seems too good to be true. that’s because they’re not real :’

━ sakusa kiyoomi

- always let you shower first so you can get all the warm water. (but don’t too long, don’t leave him without any hot water at all :’) (or i guess u guys can shower together ... )

- puts your towel in the dryer before your shower. he has many, many reasons for this:

your towel will be nice and cozy when you walk out the shower 🥺

he’ll have to hand the towel to you, meaning he’ll have a reason to go inside the warm, steamy bathroom

he’ll be able to wrap you tightly with the towel the moment you step out. sakusa can’t leave you abandoned with just a towel, so naturally, he’ll sit you on the bathroom counter (even with you sitting on the counter, he’s still taller <3) and dry your hair, comb your hair, pat your body dry, lotion your body, blow-dry your hair, and all the other steps of your skin-care routine

imagine standing next to each other, staring into the mirror as you both brush your teeth, him softly side-butting you, you side-butting him back (except he moved to the side and now you just awkwardly side-butted the air ... there goes his satisfactory smirk 🙄<3)

(just before drying your hair, he’ll rub strands of your hair between his palms to make it stick up, and stand back to admire the view. you’re adorable)

(oh to be pampered by sakusa :’)) how does it feel to have won life?)

(it hurts knowing we’ve never seen animated sakusa smile)

━ kita shinsuke

- he always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk when the two of you are walking side by side to keep you safe from the road. it’s a small, subtle gesture, but a gesture that doesn’t go overseen. this also means his left hand will always be holding your right hand

- picks things up for you. on his way home, he’ll always call and ask if you want anything. if you have a delivery package you need to pick up, he’ll do it for you. if you want a cup of coffee from your favorite cafe, he’ll buy one for you :)

- he loves and cares for your family like his own. this goes a long way. it truly shows how important you are to him

(to those who doesn’t have a very ... good family or a family that wouldn’t be interested in caring for your partner, i’m sorry to hear about that babes :’( i can relate, we’re in this together!)

━ oikawa tōru

- always talks in terms of “we” instead of “i”, “me”, and “you”. he always includes you in conversations so you never feel left out! whenever you are, he wants you to feel acknowledged and included.

- defends you in every conversation. if someone were to talk badly or make unwanted remarks about you, oikawa will be right there to drag them down. oikawa may talk a lot but it’s gotten him the advantage to be really good with his words. try winning an argument with him, you can’t (unless ur iwaizumi lol)

- anyone that stares at you for too long, he’ll give his harshest glare. oikawa’s one of those people who can just sense bad vibes from people. he tells you all about his instincts so no “bad guys” can get to you

- relationship with oikawa = lots of pillowtalk

━ miya atsumu

- if you carry purses/bags around, he always offers to hold onto your purse/bag when you go to the bathroom. he’ll casually sling it over his shoulder like it’s his own, no awkwardness here! he’s proud to be your boyfriend and it shows.

(guys who carries purses for their partners with confidence > other guys)

- if the two of you walk out of a store into pouring rain without an umbrella, atsumu will tell you to wait inside the store while he goes to start the car. he’ll drive to the front of the store so you won’t have to get wet from the rain

(i just know atsumu’s one of those guys who looks so hot while driving without even trying- darn him <3)

━ akaashi keiji

- beings extra everything around for you. band-aids, hair-ties, gum, cash, an extra jacket in his trunk, a cup in case of stomach-emergencies, and even a pair of socks in case the rain seeps through your shoes. he has it all. feeling safe is one of the many good feelings you feel around akaashi

- when you share a small umbrella, akaashi always makes sure it completely covers you, even if it means water is dripping down his shoulder.

- when he comes across a good book, a good movie, good song, he’ll have that spark in his beautiful eyes when he tells you all about them. he wants you to also enjoy the good in his life :) (he also tells you about his past mistakes/incidents to warn you about the bad)

━ bokuto kōtarō

- goes to bed before you, lying on your spot of the bed to warm it up. when you walk into the bedroom, you’ll see bo’s head sticking out of the covers with a huge grin. he’s so cute without even trying djkfldj

- adores massaging you. he’ll regularly massage you, run his hand across your tummy, sit you in his lap, squeeze you with his biceps, play with your thighs, yeah it’s quite obvious how much he loves you.

rough day? regular day? be prepared to lay on your tummy so bokuto can give you a massage :) don’t be too surprised when he attempts new massage moves that “our professional massager did on us! (msby)”

you know what else he loves? when you massage him! he loves coming home with sore muscles to a home-made massage by the person who never fails to make him smile. not the best massage in the world, but you’re trying and he loves it more than explainable.

- brings you the remote without complaint. puts your plate back to the kitchen without complaint. puts your clothes in the laundry basket without complaint.

━ miya osamu

- always offers to carry the grocery bags. even if he can barely see past the pile of bags in his arms, he’ll insist on carrying them. his competitive side comes out during times like these; he’ll try to impress you by carrying more and more each time. even with how heavy the groceries may be, he hasn’t dropped/broken anything ...yet!

- leaves the last bit of food for you. last slice of pizza? yours. last bit of milk left? for your cereal. last piece of cake? yours. he never eats the last piece without checking with you first, no matter how hungry he is. eating food without leaving you any is like betrayal.

- blocks the sunlight out of your eyes with his arm/hand. especially in the morning when the sunlight glares through the window.

━ suna rintarō

- charges your phone for you. sometimes, he’ll tap on your lockscreen to check your battery percentage when you go to sleep and charge it when the battery bar is low. you don’t have to worry about forgetting to charge your phone with suna around.

- turns off his phone when you talk to him so you can have his full attention

- untangles your mess of cords. he always glares and heavily sighs whenever he sees tangled cords. no one knows how, but suna’s exceptionally good with untangling stuff

━ kuroo tetsurō

- cleans the hair from your shower for you. he really doesn’t like it, but he knows you hate it more, which is why he does it for you. even though it’s not a favorite activity of his, he doesn’t really mind, it’s natural.

- he’ll talk to the people/call the people you don’t want to. if you don’t want to say your drive-thru order, he’ll do it for you. if you want to know the price of a shirt but there isn’t a tag, he’ll talk to a store-worker for you. instead of being annoyed at you for “not being to do simple things”, he’ll help you out without a single word of complaint. there’ll be some teasing, but no harm done. he’s very understanding and patient

(my bias is showing. he’s my comfort person, what can i do :’)

- he made up a code with you. four tugs on the hem of his shirt means you’re not feeling well/uncomfortable. (there are also many other signals and code words)

this is especially helpful when you’re out at parties, big events, malls, etc etc. as soon as he feels your tugs, he’ll whip around and study your face, leading you to a quieter place to ask how you’re feeling. if you want to go home, then home it is.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu hcs #akaashi x reader #suna x reader #osamu x reader #sakusa x reader #bokuto x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #kita x reader

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thesolferino · 3 years

Text

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!”

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.”

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.”

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet?

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend.

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes.

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you.

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?”

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed.

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up.

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks.

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought.

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him.

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in.

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him.

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well.

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you.

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?”

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister.

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!”

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you.

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out.

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him.

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else.

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though?

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place.

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room.

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home.

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls”

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right”

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait.

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend.

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin.

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones.

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?!

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown.

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream.

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway.

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive.

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it.

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people.

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?”

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?”

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.”

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.”

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should.

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well.

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.”

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.”

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good.

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good.

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you.

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you.

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand.

“What?”

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it.

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty.

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it.

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was.

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it.

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning.

“Kiss me.”

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.”

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good.

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes.

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad.

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken angst #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamwastaken x y/n

2K notes · View notes

volleychumps · 4 years

Note

Can I request a scenario with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama where their s/o is getting harassed by some creep but when their s/o stands up for herself, they're thinking " oh thank god I don't need to kill anyone". BUT when the creep lays a hand on her, all bets are off and they just punch the dude in the face!Cause there's jealousy and then there's pure protective rage!!!

S/O Who is Getting Harassed w/ Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama

Warnings: cursing, mild nsfw themes

--------------------------------------------

Kuroo

“Kitten, I’m waiting~”

“Keep it in your pants for a second, will you?” You laugh, your shoulder supporting your cellular device as you hold it up to your ear, shuffling around in your bag to find your wallet with your occupied hands. “I still cannot believe you put me in charge of ice cream duty.”

“It was to prove that me calling you up in the middle of the night means cuddles and anime!”

“So not a dick appointment?” You joke as your finished getting rung out, the woman behind the counter giving you a strange look as you flinch at the fact that you had actually said that in front of another person as Kuroo’s laughter is heard audibly at the other end of the call. Bowing deeply in apology, you rush out of the convenience store as you breathe in the air of the late-night soothingly to calm your embarrassment.

“I’m gonna come to meet you halfway, alright kitty?”

“In your car?”

“No, in a fucking spaceship. Yes, in my car.”

You roll your eyes, a smile still on your face as you begin your trek in the desired direction as your sassy boyfriend seemed to be getting impatient.

“I can just skip and not meet you for this appointment you know-”

“It’s nOT A-”

You hum in satisfaction as you end the call, walking along the street in search of Kuroo’s vehicle when an instant feeling of being watched sends a shiver down your back. Your hands straighten your clothes as you glance behind you, unsurprised yet uneasy at the sight of a man seeming to stare you down, eyes raking shamelessly upon your figure.

Kuroo’s brows furrow as soon as he turns the corner, not having parked far as he sees you looking behind you worriedly, seeming to engage in a uneasy conversation with the stranger before you.

The greasy grin on said stranger’s face had Kuroo’s feet moving before he could think, but the captain stills when he sees you scoff, crossing your arms heatedly at whatever he had said. Now within a hearing range, Kuroo smirks as he leans against the wall as you tell the creep off, hands finding home in the pockets of his red jacket.

“Can you maybe go crawl back into whatever dump you and your nasty-ass teeth came from?”

Kuroo’s grin only widens as you roll your eyes and walk past him seeming to be fearless, even shoving your shoulder against his in the process as Kuroo goes to call out to you to enforce the leave of that creep immediately-

“You bitch!”

but red flooded his vision as soon as a hand was lain on your bare shoulder, spinning you around roughly as an audible squeak of fear and surprise slips your lips, reeling his arm back-

And then Kuroo’s feet were really moving.

Kuroo shoved the guy off you with a snarl on his features, eyes spinning dangerously as your boyfriend delivers a sharp knee to his stomach, sending your attacker to the ground in less than a minute. The smile that spread on Kuroo’s lips was anything but kind as he lifted the now fearful man up a few inches by the shirt, mock-kindness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, care to repeat that for me again?” The polite words held such a menacing edge as Kuroo grit his teeth, feeling you place a hand on his back soothingly.

“Kuroo, let’s go.”

“No. Someone’s gotta teach this prick what happens when people lay their hands on my girl.” Kuroo lets go of his shirt, grinning when he hits his head on the street before lifting him back up again, ignoring his groan of pain. “And that someone’s gonna be me.”

“Tetsurou.”

Kuroo groans at your strict tone as if you had interrupted his playtime, fist unclenching around the stranger’s shirt as he makes a hasty escape, tripping himself over in the process before dashing away.

“Look at me listening to you, princess.”

Kuroo’s eyes held a pissed-off edge to them as he takes a strand of your hair, running his fingers through it before kissing the strand with closed eyes. Your mouth goes dry when his cat-like eyes open again, staring at you as if you were his favorite posession before cupping your face, leaning closer with a grin that wasn’t happy.

“Just how tight do you have me wrapped around your little finger?”

You clear your throat, shifting in place as the moon seems to illuminate Kuroo’s stare, feeling his eyes bore into you as the strand slips from his fingers, his breath beginning to mix with your own.

“Tight enough, apparently.”

“Just... come cuddle and watch anime with me?”

“Yeah, we’ll have our appointment, whatever- but kiss me first.”

And so he did, anger fading away in the movement of his lips against yours, draining away completely when he feels your smile against his.

Even if it wasn’t an appointment.

Bokuto

“Bo, I’ll be fine, I promise!”

“Do you pinky promise?”

“I- there’s like a 7% chance something will happen to me in the five minutes you’re gone.”

“That’s 6.9% too much.”

“Bo, I’m hungry.” You whine, grinning as you win the argument that was hardly an argument, seeing Bokuto’s eyes widen a little in worry before puffing his cheeks out, spinning on his heel in the direction of your desired food stand.

“You win this one!”

“I usually do!” You call back, shaking your head at Bokuto’s protective tendencies. A rare off day the two of your shared had wound the two of you at the mall, a day’s worth of shopping sitting at your feet as your golden-eyed boyfriend bought you lunch from the food court. You hummed, scrolling on your phone as you patiently waited until the sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to lift your head.

Well, looks like you’re going to need to recalculate that percentage.

“Someone as pretty as you should never be sitting alone in a place like this, hm?”

“I’m not alone, though!” You chirp fakely, unknowingly causing the boy to press on, taking the seat that was reserved for your spiker boyfriend as you blanch.

“Nice excuse, sweetheart- but that won’t work on me.”

You clench your jaw, praying Bokuto wouldn’t return just yet and throw a fit you knew he was bound to throw as you offer a strained smile at the smirking boy.

“I’m actually waiting for somebody-”

“I don’t see them, though?”

Bokuto stills, hands tightening around the tray holding your food subconciously at the scene before him, scenarios drifting through his head on what approach would make you the least mad at him. Cursing him out? Perhaps spiking the lunch tray at his head? That is, until-

“Do you not understand what waiting means, or does nothing occupy that space between your ears?”

“Feisty.”

“Grow the hell up.” You plaster a smile as you flick him off, crossing one leg over the other for effect, causing your pursuer to rise to his feet in a now ticked-off manner as Bokuto grins, eyebrows raising in surprise.

The grin fades as the asshole uses his thumb and forefinger to pinch your cheeks together harshly, the uncomfort apparent on your expression as you glare heatedly up at him, a crowd beginning to form.

“Pretty girl with a dirty mouth, huh? That can be arranged-”

A tap on the shoulder.

“Do you know what else can be arranged?”

“Who the hell-”

He never gets to finish his sentence as Bokuto grabs him by the shoulder, ripping him off you and reeling his own arm back before delivering a punch so hard to the guy’s jaw you swear you could hear a few cracks. The crowd was definitely beginning to get bigger as Bokuto pays no mind, cracking his knuckles as the guy who put his hands on you looks up into the golden eyes of a pissed-off ace, the grin on Bokuto’s face borderline deadly as gold begins to darken.

“Who am I?” A humorless chuckle that could have been almost considered kind. Bokuto tilts his head innocently as he ignores the bruising on his knuckles, leaning down to ask an equally innocent question.

“Take a fucking guess.”

You gasp at the headbutt delivered next, causing your pursuer to groan and fall backwards, Bokuto unfazed before realizing you were now holding him back before grabbing your hand, collecting your bags and your food in a hurry as he tugs you along, ignoring the flash of the cameras and gasps of the crowd. You have to hold him back from turning around for more in your effort to leave.

“Just one more punch-”

“Trust me, that was plenty.”

It isn’t until you reach the parking lot when Bokuto finally stops, holding your hand so tightly it almost feels icy numb, not knowing what to say as his golden eyes turn to you, as if he was trying to hold his anger back. You hear him drop all the bags he’s holding as you hug him quickly, burying your face in his chest as the ace immediately relaxes.

“God, stop being so pretty.” He finally mumbles into your hair, and you let out a laugh of relief as he calms down.

“Right. So maybe not 7%-”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Bo?”

“Never leave my sight, please?” Your heartstrings tug at the crack in his voice, now determined to prevent his emo mode on your day off.

“That’s a lot to promise.” You find yourself whispering back, pulling back a little to cup his face gently as Bokuto’s forehead touches yours. “But I’m so thankful you showed up when you did. You know what I can promise, though?”

You smile at Bokuto’s head tilt, feeling the ace impatiently trace his lips along your neck as you giggle, feeling the atmosphere lighten as Bokuto pouts when you pull back with a question-

“Car sex?”

Bokuto’s pout is replaced with an excited grin, for this boy worships your body 10000%.

“I thought you’d never ask, baby! Get in for the ride of your life!!”

“Just because I feel bad for your bruised knuckles- I’ll let that pun slide.”

Bokuto smirks as he kisses your forehead, winking at you through the window after closing the car door for you as the day’s events already begin to fade-

being replaced with something much more important.

Kageyama

“...you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m dandy.” Kageyama snaps, causing Hinata to back off with both arms raised in the air as a sign of meaning no harm. The blue-eyed boy grits his teeth from his spot on the sidelines of the court, pissed that the game was starting and he had no way of defending you from the creep sitting by you in the stands.

Kageyama relaxes a little when he sees you switch seats with an offering Kenma, thankful for his fellow setter for once as his blue eyes meet your bright ones.

The tension in his face and body drains at your smile, mouthing an I’m okay, do your best! as Kageyama returns his focus to the match just as it starts. Knowing he can’t lose concentration, especially when you’re watching, is hard- considering you were wearing his jersey number and the shortest skirt he had ever seen on you- a promise for something special you had mentioned if he won today’s match.

He had a little bit of a clue what that could be.

The match went smoothly with your genius-setter boyfriend playing at his top-game for a reason no one would ever pinpoint as you can’t help but giggle from the secret behind his determination today.

What you were wearing was for him, but a certain someone didn’t seem to understand that.

Kenma cast you a worried glance as he raises from his seat as he looks amongst the filled seats, trying to find one for you to sit in as he has to go start to warm up.

“Y/N-san, what if you go to the other side?”

“I’ll be fine, Kenma!” You assure him, ignoring the smirk of the guy who had previously started to talk you up. “I’ll probably go stand at the railing.”

“Mm. That’s probably best- stay safe.” Kenma nods, sparing a warning glance to the scum next to him as if to enunciate his point before taking his leave as you walk up to the railing that was mostly unoccupied. You cheer for Kageyama as he scores quick after quick, thinking you were now in a safe manner.

But you weren’t.

Kageyama tilts his bottle upside down to drink down the liquid as soon as the match’s victors are declared Karasuno, the raven-haired boy wiping his mouth as he scans the crowds for you and your expected cheering form for his win, but what he saw had the setter moving quickly despite the ache in his legs. His teammates look on in worry before realizing the situation from a distance.

“Please leave me alone, sir, I came for one of the players today-”

“Why have one of these boys when you can have a real man?”

Kageyama jogs into hearing distance- stopping at the rare, cold edge your tone took on before starting again.

“Did you not hear what the hell I said, or are you hard of hearing you old geezer?” You keep your smile on, failing to notice the familiar raven-haired boy beginning to deadass climb the railing. “And real men leave girls alone when they ask.”

“Come on, play nice~”

You barely have time to flinch when his hand goes up your skirt, and it’s suddenly gone as soon as it does.

Kageyama was surprisingly calm as he pins the man to the railing, blue eyes spinning with an emotion you had hardly seen before as he holds both hands behind the guy’s back, using his other hand to bow his head down to the ground.

“Just where the hell do you think you’re touching?” Kageyama seethes as you smile at his sweaty appearance, seeing the man struggle as the rest of the Karasuno team jogs up to the stands as a commotion begins to break out, Suga asking if you’re okay as Daichi and Asahi both take the pervert from Kageyama before the setter can do something rash-

“Oh, before you take him-”

You flinch when Kageyama reels his fist back to clock him right in the nose, gasps filling the stands as Kageyama wipes the blood off his knuckles with the end of his jersey, whistling lowly at the cuts on his fist.

“Alright. You can take him now.”

Kageyama ignores the scold of his captain as he grabs you by the forearm, tugging you away as you wave a hasty goodbye to Suga as you follow him all the way into the empty hall, spinning you around so he can hold your wrists together with one hand.

“I’m really, really pissed.” Kageyama whispers, blue eyes hardened as you swallow when your back touches the wall, your eyes darting everywhere but on him. “Do you mind?”

“D-Do I mind what?” You stutter when the setter’s lips touch your neck, sending chills down your spine when he speaks against it, his own hand sliding up your thigh.

“Use my anger in the little reward you promised me?”

You laugh out loud, taking a handful of his raven hair before tugging it back with a smile on your features, kissing him sweetly with other intentions.

“Get me alone first, dummy. Good job on winning!”

“And-” Kageyama’s voice drops an octave, uncaring of anyone entering the hall as his other hand slides up under his jersey that was adorning your body.

“I want to cover anything that bastard might have left on you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

General works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @yams046

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu kuroo #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #bokuto #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios

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yarichin-imagines · 3 years

Note

can i get some toxic relationship headcanons with each of the boys? thank you <3

YARI GOT THIS SHIT.

AYY OUR FIRST COLLAB POST — admin bii

TW: toxic relationships, jealousy, gaslighting, mindbreak (reader getting used to/happy with toxicity), dubcon, hints of yandere, etc.

toono - insecurity

Toono just can’t seem to convince himself you truly love him. It leads to him closing off and pitying himself quite a bit. He treats the relationship like something else he’s bound to fuck up, and he shouldn’t get too attached. That leads to your relationship feeling half-baked.

kashima - jealous

Kashima is not paranoid! He trusts you 100%. It's everyone else he doesn't trust. He gets a little more than hot under the collar when he starts noticing you do nothing to stop guys from buying you drinks at a club— you accept the drinks! that you apologize to the perverts who grope you when the try to slide past you on a crowded metro, and blush when you catch them staring. Steam practically pours out of his ears. He will drag you by your wrist, his grip searing hot and twisting hard against the skin -- it hurts, but he's too angry to notice now. Doesn't matter if it's at school, at a club, and it doesn't matter if it's the morning, noon or night. He'll have you against something in seconds, muttering expletives, even going so far as to threaten live's if someone has the audacity to cozy up to you right in front of him. It's unfathomable, it's like nobody can see that you so obviously belong to him. After all, you're his girl. He's the one you come home to, the only one who gets to touch you, hold you, to fuck you, to see you in every state of mind, to see you break, and to see you cum. For him. Just for him. If he wasn't such a good fuck when he's all worked up, surely you'd have had the sense to leave him, but that just isn't the case with Kashima. . .

yacchan - communication issues

Yacchan can’t communicate, but it isn’t for a lack of talking. He has built up a wall after years of being inferior, so when someone tries to push the boundaries a bit and open him up, he gets very defensive. He gets hostile and sarcastic, even in his body language, moving as if he’s preparing to fight. He just can’t handle criticism because he’s been given so much shit through his life, he interprets criticism as hate and feels a need to defend himself. He doesn’t want to let anyone break down his walls that he has spent so long putting up to protect himself.

Shikatani - perfectionist

Shika doesn’t want anything to happen if he doesn’t know it’ll go exactly as he planned. All the dates need to go perfect or it ends with him in tears because he ‘fucked it all up’. Even if the mess up ends in you two having an equally great time, he can’t get over how it didn’t go perfectly. This also sort of plays into a lack of communication as he doesn’t want to bring up things that could cause arguments.

akemi - gaslighting

To be honest, it gets a little fuzzy trying to remember what life was like before Keiichi Akemi.

“Why worry about it?” he would always say. “I’ll take care of everything. Just don’t think about it, ‘kay?”

How could you refuse a life planned out for you down to the tee? Schedules were structure, and without structure, you’d definitely fall apart.

“What would you do without me?”

Please don’t leave me!

“If you don’t exercise, you’ll get fat again, like before. You don’t want to be fat again right?”

You’re right! I’m sorry!

“I’m only doing this because I love you, ya know.”

You don’t remember before, but you do know that nobody has ever loved you the way Akemi does now, nobody else loves you as much as Akemi does now.

And nobody ever will.

itome - lack of communication

While Yacchan and Shikatani have their own communication issues, Itome doesn’t communicate at all, mostly due to his crippling insecurity. He is silent most of the time, always defaulting to whatever you want to do. He just hopes that you won’t leave if he agrees to do what you want all the time. He gets so scared of losing you, he’ll end up crying late at night. If you notice and ask him what’s wrong, he violently insists he’s fine and nothing’s wrong. “It’s fine” is a catchphrase of his. This leads to a relationship in a stalemate where neither of you know if the other is genuinely happy.

yuri - disrespect (being late, “forgetting” events, unsupportive)

When it was three minutes past your reservation, you didn’t even notice. You weren’t even bothered when he forgot about your recital banquet, after all, he probably just got tied up with club logistics, a vice president does have a lot of responsibilities.

He never really saw the point of your artwork, but what was one opinion out of many? After all, yours was the one that mattered. Right?

At least he was looking at it, although, for extended periods at a time, with a puzzled expression, that would morph into a frustrated confusion before it transformed into complete disgust.

But so what?

Soon, he was a half hour late to reservations, an hour when the days were really bad. He started blowing off your showcases. And when you found the card you’d designed yourself for his birthday in the trash? Or overheard him describing your art as “kiddy! kiddy! ugly?” What were you supposed to do?

Flowers and orgasms were fine and dandy of course, but every anniversary forgotten and every piece you found hidden in a closet was just another knife to your chest, albeit a warning that went in one ear and out another.

tamura - controlling

"Absolutely not."

It has to be the tenth outfit you've presented for your boyfriend's approval, and despite your opaque tights (an improvement over the lace ones the last few 'fits) the dress is "still too short." If not the dress nor the tights, the heels are "too alluring" and your makeup is "too provocative."

Tamura takes it upon himself to pick your outfit and makeup, and unless you're putting on his own personal burlesque show, chances are the colors are neutral or non-flattering and the makeup is almost completely natural, truly.

Sometimes it's nice not having to worry, knowing you can sleep in a little later because your boyfriend has planned out your daily look and perfectly portioned your breakfast and lunchbox. Then there’s the rest of the times, when you have to time out your trips to the mall so that you come home when Tamura is out and hide your shopping bags in your car. But all of it’s no use.

He’s one step ahead of you every time. He has pictures of your gas meter daily, he tracks your location, and eventually, he takes you everywhere you go and sets a curfew.

If you post a picture with a guy on your socials, he wants the receipts, he wants the goddamn family tree proving that the schmuck’s your first cousin, or else. Or else, being that he shuts down your socials, happens anyway of course.

You get used to it. You don’t get to decide anymore, he decides for you, when you wake up, eat, cum, and what you wear, what you know, what you think and isn’t that just sweet?

jimmy - stalking

This one is kind of obvious. Jimmy HAS to know where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with, and when you’ll be back. He can be found following you places or looking through your things. Though, when he finds out these things, he doesn’t get angry. He just broods and pities himself for a long time. He ends up making you feel obligated to tell him everything, and there’s always something that makes him upset about it.

#yarichin b club #yui tamura #itsuki shikatani #koshiro itome #yuri ayato #keiichi akemi #takashi toono #tooru fujisaki #kyousuke yaguchi #yuu kashima #tw: gaslighting #tw: mindbreak #tw: dubcon #tw: yandere #tw: toxic relationship

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literate-simp · 3 years

Text

BEING BESTIES W/ SOME JJK CHARACTERS; Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara, Gojou and Sukuna.

Notes: Look. I know we all simp terribly for our husbandos/waifus but I just wanted to write a simple hc about what it's like to be their besties

Warning(s): slight cursing. I indulged too much on Sukuna.

Includes: gn! reader, fluff, chaotic energy, mentions of romance (just light)

Itadori Yuji

He's friends with everyone, says hi to strangers and probably would be besties with every old lady he meets so it wasn't hard to be friends with him.

But the second he becomes besties with you, shit's gonna get borderline chaotic.

3AM and y'all can't sleep? McDonald's parking lot with an abandoned shopping car would sound damned fine. You both remember the moment as 'Chicken Nuggies and the Wind' since he t-posed on the moving cart whilst eating nuggies (you both almost scratched a Ferari).

If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer in training, he'd still try to sneak you in his room to watch some movies. You with the snacks, leaving Yuji in charge of the movie picking (you can't decide to save your life)

Cuddles! Nothing wrong with besties cuddling. He's extremely respectful to your s/o (if you have one) and are probably good friends with them too!

Though the second you come to him crying, they were already being patched up in the hospital. Won't hit a woman, against his morals, but he will make sure she never speaks to you again.

Understanding, chaotic besties! An arm around your shoulder when someone's obviously making you uncomfortable, he's the one barking when he sees someone slip something into your drink.

The friend to help you find your way out of a frat house. Makes sure you're getting touched with your consent and sober. All you need to do is give him a sign that you're alright and he'll give you a thumbs up before leaving.

Definitely the friend you'd open up to (about anything) and not be treated differently after so.

You told him about your problems a few minutes prior. It was quiet, a bit too quiet. And you were worried he might leave you for it.

"Ey, Y/N. Wanna go to McDonald's again? I think they have that burger you like," He blurts, catching you off guard. You raise your eyebrows before smiling gratefully.

"Sounds great, Itadori."

You guys talk about women with butts all the time. Not out of thirst or anything, it would just be a random thought that comes up and one of you would contribute to the other. You once mentioned something about Jennifer Lawrence and he would not stop talkinf about her. It was hilarious how much he was drooling.

You wear his hoodies and he's fine with it. Thinks you look good in them. Sukuna teases you both about your relationship and Yuji slaps his mouth shut before he says anything more.

"You look great in them, Y/N," Itadori grins, rummaging through his closet to find more hoodies.

"Thank you. They're pretty comfy," You mention the fabric and the fluffiness. He listens to you intently before Sukuna pops out from his cheek.

"Ehhh? This is the one you think about everyday--," Itadori has never slapped his cheek so hard before in his life.

Megumi Fushiguro

Honestly, pretty chill dude.

He has a small group of people he trusts, and a smaller one to which he considers to be his good friends.

So to be his best friend, you must've gained a huge amount of respect from him; saved him, maybe even overheard something you shouldn't have and kept quiet about it on your own accord.

You would have a 'you aren't comfortable with it, so I'm not forcing anything' vibe to which he would be relieved to know. Though even so, you are the more hyper one in the platonic relationship.

Outings would consist of trips to libraries or quiet nights on the couch with your legs entangled together with lo-fi music playing in the background.

Not much talking, Megumi likes to keep to himself and you have no problem with the comfortable silence you both bring together.

Though sometimes it gets too quiet so you annoy the hell out of him to get his attention; cheek poking, soft arm punches, slight pushing.

Megumi ignores this, finding your actions a bit cute. If it gets too annoying, he will get up and leave, having you trail behind him, whining like a child wanting candy.

Yuji would join in. Definitely. Nobara too if she was bored enough.

"Megumi~ I want your attention~," You whine, running after the raven-haired man.

"Yeah! Yeah! Pay attention to Y/N!" Yuji supports you. You clap your hands together, only to be hit with a shoe by Megumi.

He would never do anything outside of your comfort zone. If you had an s/o, they both would be neutral with each other.

If you were to get hurt from said s/o, they would leave your house with a bloody knuckle. He wouldn't hit a girl, but he definitely will destroy whatever life she has outside of your relationship with her.

Parties are a no-go for him, unless his friends force him to. He's the designated driver with three other drunk children (Hint; Yuuji, Nobara and you). He wouldn't carry anyone else but you back to your room.

"Jeez, Y/N. You should know how to handle your alcohol," Megumi sighs, laying you on top of your bed gently and pulling the covers up.

"Nngh. Didn't know it was alcohol," You groaned. He smiles, patting your cheek before getting up to leave.

"I'll get you some painkillers in the morning, alright?"

You can wear his sweatshirts if you annoy him about it (he secretly likes how comfortable you are around him). He thinks you look charming in them, Yuji never shuts up about your friendship. It's the few times he's seen Megumi genuinely smile.

Nobara Kugisaki

Radiates bad bitch energy.

It isn't easy in the first stages since she has standards with friends but the second you both find something similar about each other, it's an immediate ride-or-die friendship.

You would need a major backbone, 'I'm too hot for this bs' kinda vibe (it's canon that the reader is a bad bitch, periodt). You would have arguments with her but it's pretty basic stuff like the perfect colour for nailpolish or whether Maki deserves the Earth or the universe (you both agree it's the universe).

Outings consists of shopping malls and popular cafes. You take selfies everytime you see something relatively new.

Talk about anything under the sun -- newest trends, new food to try out, Maki -- but her favourites are hearing you talk about your day. If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer, she'd visit your apartment, give you a hug and sit on the couch to listen to you blabber away about something that isn't related to curses or death. She needs time to rewind and you never mention how vulnerable she looks when she's tired.

"Uh-huh and what happens next?" Nobara asked, carressing your hair as you lay on her lap.

"He wouldn't stop following us! It was so creepy! No means no right? Like why would you waste your energy following a group of friends who aren't interested?" You ranted on. Nobara simply nods in agreement, smiling at your annoyed face.

She doesn't mind your s/o, probably would just say hi before leaving you two alone. She doesn't have a problem about her friends having a relationship, she does, however, gets pissed that she isn't in one.

If you come to her crying about them, she would slither in some 'fuckin told you they were gonna do it' or 'I told you so'. Though it makes you upset, you know she's gonna trash their house the second you leave the room.

Your (now) ex would suddenly be cancelled beyond belief, you wouldn't know what happened to them.

Despite the bad bitch personality, you are the more patient one.

Parties is a yes. She comes in as a self-confident woman and will leave self-confident and drunk. She's the life of the party and pulls you into conversations to keep you company. Even if you don't contribute much to the conversation, she makes sure you aren't out of her sight. She's not the type to bring a friend to a party and leave them the second after. She cares about you even if her way of showing was a bit too pushy.

You share clothes with her and she'll give you comments about it.

"The shirt doesn't fit. No, no. The other one. Yeah, that one."

"Who cares if people say you aren't supposed to wear skirts? Your ass rocks better in those than mine. Just take them."

Personally likes dressing you up, doesn't like dressing you up for dates though. Still doesn't know why.

Gojou Satoru

God, the willpower you have to even tolerate this man is immense.

It's not hard to be his friend, all you have to do is do something that amuses him and he'll keep teasing you about it.

In this platonic relationship, you're the more calm one. People call you to take care of Gojou constantly, and you're the only one he allows to scold him.

He goes for missions half the time so it's rare to see you both go for outings. The most you've been together outside of Jujustu Tech and work hours was in a bar with Nanami (you both bond over the fact that Gojou is terrible to work with). He got too drunk and started slurring his words.

"Y/N~ stohp flirting with Nanamin and talk to meee," He whines, pinching your cheeks as you sigh.

"We are simply talking about your bad work habits, Satoru," Nanami answers whilst shaking his head, downing another drink before he gets up to leave. "I'll take him home, rest well Y/N."

"Noooo, I want Y/N!"

A needy best friend. Constantly asks for attention. If you ignored him, he would only make the situation slightly more annoying -- similar to Megumi's Y/N, the basic cheek poking and whining.

Your s/o would probably hate him, he's a bit too flirty and likes to hug you in public. People mistake you both for a couple rather than the s/o at hand. Don't be surprised if it's the main reason your relationships don't end well.

If you come to him upset because of them, he wouldn't waste a second to zoom to your shared apartment and 'deal' with the person. Would come back with a smile and some takoyaki. No blood on him since he used his infinity.

Parties are alright with him. He's the cool flirty dude everyone seems to fawn over. Would accompany you for half an hour, only to leave with another chick to a nearby bedroom. You never end up partying with him after opening the God forsaken door and he's never stopped trying to make it up to you.

Other than the traumatic event, he'd a bit of a douche but still tries to look for you in the crowd. He waves once he sees you and flashes a reassuring smile before continuing his talk with the others.

You don't share clothes with him simply because it's Gojou. Who knows when the last time he washed his clothes.

Though he's willing to share. You're just more reluctant, really. Finds it cute when his shirts are slightly bigger than you. If you're built bigger than he is, he would like how tight it looks on your body.

"Starting to think you look better in my clothes than I am. And that's a pretty good compliment." He grins.

Hates the fact you never take his compliments seriously. Says it from the bottom of his heart, he really thinks you're charming.

Ryomen Sukuna

God, was it hard trying to befriend this curse of a man. An asshole, he stuck his feet out to trip you over multiple times before cackling like a damned demon (which he is).

Though you're always genuine with him. You liked having conversations with him and listen to him boast about himself for hours. Guess that's when he saw you as a close acquaintance.

Would never tell you you're his best friend. Never. Not once. Him simply acknowledging you was enough for everyone to know he favored one person.

Being friends with Sukuna meant being friends Yuji. Itadori always apologizes on his behalf and you would always laugh, telling him it's alright. Sukuna gets annoyed by this though.

"Stupid human. Who do you think you are being all mush with this useless vessel of mine?" He sneered the second he could pop out. You shrugged, taking some popcorn to feed him.

"He's a pretty good guy. You should cut him some slack," You answered, stuffing some popcorn to your face as well

Will constantly threaten to kill you but you never paid heed. You know you're his only friend. You don't agree with his actions but you find the curse interesting.

Literally the only person who's allowed to tease him. You get away with things most curses would get killed from. You once hand him super hot sauce for his pancakes and he glared at you for the remainder of his time being conscious in Yuji's body. You found the plate broken with a fork stabbed through it.

You aren't allowed to go on outings with Sukuna (obviously) so you both spend your time within Yuji's room. Not allowed to go out since everyone'll freak out seeing Yuji with tattoos resembling the King of Curses.

"Humans are so boring," Sukuna groaned, his head on the bedstand. "All they do is just sit around doing nothing but scroll through their stupid boxes." You smiled at him.

"Not my fault you commit mass genocide for fun. I'd say we're pretty passive."

He would literally never care about your love life. Still has the old man mentality that romance meant sex and that was about it. If they were to meet, the curse would just roll his eyes and turn the other way.

Getting hurt by your s/o results to hurtful teasing and bloodshed. No in-between, no nothing. He wouldn't know how to comfort you properly so he'd send Yuji in his place. Would sit at the back of Yuji's mind getting pissed that he was hugging and rubbing your back gently as if he couldn't have done it himself (literally sent Yuji only to judge him).

Not allowed to go out so parties is also a no-go BUT since this is just a headcanon, let's imagine it's college AU.

College AU Sukuna would love parties -- he throws them, orders his friends to invite hot girls and frat guys. And invites you himself. No one would know you were friends since he never mentions it but will literally choke anyone who looks at you like you're a piece of candy.

Gets way too drunk and probably have railed 3 people to cloud 9 in a matter of 2 hours but still go out just to check up on you. He doesn't necessarily care but he hates having the sick feeling that you were in possible danger somewhere he wouldn't be able to see you.

Stare at you for a good 3 seconds before leaving you alone. You'd never know he was there.

Clothes! His clothes are Yuji's and he barely even keeps his shirts in tact. Does he care whether you wear it or not? No.

Is he pissed? Slightly.

This took me two days, I'm not sure if it sounds canon anymore. Anyways, thank you for reading!

♡︎ literate-simp

#jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk headcanon #nobara headcanons #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #megumi headcanons #gojo headcanons #itadori yuji #itadori headcanons #jjk nobara #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna headcanons #jjk fluff #jjk fluff headcanons #jjk hc

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wyattjohnston · 3 years

Text

got a hold on me - kevin hayes

series: got a hold on me

summary: kevin left new york without a word and everything fell apart. in philadelphia, things come back together.

warnings: alcohol, recreational drug use, this contains smut. if you are under the age of 18, back away now. No one else has looked over this, so please tell me if anything is horribly wrong.

word count: 11,391

songs: lovers + strangers - starley | tell me how - paramore | sunrise - kygo feat. jason walker | know by now - the kite string tangle

It hadn’t shown rain on the forecast that morning, so Sofia hadn’t been concerned that she had to leave the office for lunch. Naturally, though, the clock hit 12:25pm, five minutes before her lunch break, and she looked out her window to see raindrops hitting the glass.

She seriously considered just not eating lunch, perhaps the snack drawer could serve as a nutritious meal if she pretended enough but thought better of it because sometimes Sofia could fake that she was a real adult.

Borrowing an umbrella from one of the receptionists, Sofia put in her headphones and called her brother.

“I’m flying to Philly to help you make friends.”

“Fine,” Sofia grumbled. “I won’t call you again.”

“I like talking to you, Sof, but when you call me every day instead of talking to anyone you work with... I worry.”

Sofia sighed. Her first week had been hard—it had been busier than she expected, so socializing with her new co-workers was a low priority.

“I’m going for a walk and it’s raining—no one was going to come with me,” she said as an excuse, just to get Nate to worry a little less.

The rain was coming down at a horrible angle, the wind was changing it constantly causing Sofia to have to move the umbrella every few seconds all while trying to keep up her conversation with her brother and find the sandwich bar she’d scoped out on Google.

It was a whole thing when she stumbled across the sandwich bar, the umbrella getting in the way, and the people walking out the door deciding they took precedence over her even though rain was slowly soaking through her coat.

Nate was in her ear making fun of her when she finally got inside because she ordered her usual wholewheat turkey sandwich—Sofia resolutely ignored him.

Getting back to the office was as much a pain as the initial trip, maybe even more so as she tried to protect her sandwich from the elements and got into an argument with Nate about the merits of buying a new or refurbished vacuum—the faking being a real adult thing was sometimes truer than others.

“But it’s refurbished!” she shouted. “It’s not like I’m just buying one from Facebook Mar-Fuck!”

Sofia ducked behind a tall man, walked as close to him as possible with the umbrella and ducked her head to hide her face.

“What the fuck, Sofia?”

“I just saw Kevin,” she sighed.

“Kevin as in Hayes?”

“No, as in Paul Blart Mall Cop,” she snapped. “Of course, Kevin Hayes.”

“You should talk to him,” Nate suggested. “And not run away like I know you’re doing.”

Sofia turned her head, sighing when she saw Kevin standing off to the side, his face buried in his phone. She looked ahead of her, put some distance between herself and the man she had used as a shield.

“Like he’s never run away from me.”

“Noted.”

“I’m nearly at work, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Make some friends!”

Shortly after the call ended, a text notification came through. Sofia ignored it, expecting it to be Nate with a dumb link to something that would supposedly teach her how to make friends. She would retaliate with a How-To Dress Better tutorial when she got back to her desk. Maybe the number for a barber in East Harlem.

Everybody back in the office was bone dry and very sympathetic to the hair sticking to Sofia’s forehead and the makeup she was sure was moving across her face in a number of horrifying directions. Sofia returned the umbrella and the woman at the desk offered a clean gym towel from her bag.

At her desk, with the towel draped over her shoulders to prevent her hair making her clothes any wetter, Sofia unwrapped her still perfectly dry sandwich and opened her phone. She didn’t bother checking the name on her screen, convinced it could only be Nate, which meant she was blindside by what she was met with.

From K. Hayes – don’t think I’ve ever seen you move so fast. Hope you didn’t get too wet @ 1:15pm.

That was fine, though. Largely innocuous. It was the unanswered texts above that that rattled her.

Dated 25 Feb 2019

To K. Hayes – Call me? @ 12:42pm

To K. Hayes – They probably put you on a plane right away. Call me when you can. @ 5:17pm

Dated 26 Feb 2019

To K. Hayes – I only know you aren’t dead because you’re on my TV right now @ 8:26pm

Dated 27 Feb 2019

To K. Hayes – Gracia says you’ve been talking to Brady. Really can’t believe you’re ghosting me. We were friends first Kev. @ 1:13pm

To K. Hayes – Balls in your court @ 1:20pm

In that moment, Sofia remembered that she never got around to turning off read receipts. But if Kevin had zero problems ignoring her after his trade, she had no problem ignoring him after her move to Philly.

Forgetting the text was easier than Sofia expected it to be. Things returned to normal in that his name still popped up as having viewed her Insta stories, just as she still popped up as having viewed his.

It only bothered her in the beginning that he was stilling keeping tabs on her but refusing to talk to her. When it became clear that the communication she wanted was never going to come, she let it go—accepted that unless she blocked him, he wasn’t going to stop. She didn’t care enough to do that. Or she cared too much.

And thus, Kevin joined a handful of exes who checked in on her via socials—even if the label of ‘ex’ was far too generous for their one night together.

It was normal, though, so her brain rarely conjured up the rage and hurt she’d felt when she saw his text. For a few weeks at least.

Thanksgiving came and went; the trip to the family home in Queens was so flawless Sofia may have just dreamt that it happened—aside from another suggestion from her brother that friends would be good, of course. She caught up with some friends she’d left behind in NYC over the weekend, too. By Monday, she was back at her desk, recounting her unexciting weekend to Erin at reception—who might have been on her way to becoming a friend after lending Sofia that towel.

Kevin had seen the Insta story of her short walk to work, specifically the small section of Rittenhouse Square she could see from the intersection of Spruce and S 19th with a caption about looking forward to a walk at lunch—he’d seen it almost immediately. Standard, really.

Far less standard and the cause of much more concern, when she checked her phone mid-morning, was the video of him walking to Rittenhouse Square—presumably from his house. Which was neither very far from her home, nor very far from her office.

Sofia opened her top drawer before the video had even finished and threw her phone in. The loud clang wasn’t even satisfying.

Her computer pinged, a message from Erin containing a single question mark. Sofia apologised, claiming it to be an accident.

Not a lot of work got done that morning and no walking was done that lunch time.

It took until Friday for the situation to come to a head. Sofia had continued walking to work because she wanted to take advantage of the opportunity before the snow hit. The Flyers also may have been in Florida so there was no chance for Kevin to show up unexpectedly.

Work was so busy that as she stepped out the front doors and turned onto S 18th, Kevin was the last thing on her mind. Her brain was filled with thoughts of a nice, hot shower and the pumpkin pie she’d splurged on but also some thoughts about the harsh wind biting at her cheeks.

“Sofia!”

The voice resonated right to her core, booming and so quintessentially Kevin that she froze in place without a thought and span around with a huge, genuine smile.

“Hi Kev,” she sighed, forgetting herself even more as he stepped towards her, his arms outstretched. She folded easily, naturally, into his body. As she let him go, she noticed that he wasn’t alone.

“This is Patty,” Kevin said, waving in Patty’s direction. “Patty, this is Sof from New York.”

“Nice to meet you,” Patty said politely, though he sounded like he was talking around a mouthful of marbles. It didn’t sound like it was nice to meet her.

“Likewise.”

“We’re going out for a drink,” Kevin said. “Do you want to come?”

Sofia nearly agreed, she would have in the before time. She thought better of it when the eagerness in her body got to be too much.

Shuffling her feet, she responded, “I have plans.”

“Next time. We’re practically neighbours, right?”

“I guess we are. Now take Patty away before he glares a hole in me.”

Kevin laughed. Patty shook his head, a slightly less intense glare crossing his face. He spoke to Patty while they walked away, projecting his voice enough so Sofia could hear, “Why you gotta embarrass me like that?”

Sofia didn’t get very far at all when the tug back to Kevin went taut. Avoiding him had been easy—his presence was abstract, seeing him on the street was easily passed off as a figment of her imagination. Talking to him—being invited out? Sofia’s resolve was thin.

The tug got tighter, though, until she finally felt the snap in her chest as the tether released.

A text came through the next day, pushing the ones she’d ignored further up the screen, with an address that was criminally close to her own and definitely one she’d walked by on her way to work.

She sent hers back, so he would know, and then hid her phone under her couch cushions to stop herself from just inviting him over. When she retrieved it some twenty minutes later there was an invite to have dinner at Kevin’s. And so, Sofia washed her hair, pulled out a clean pair of jeans and put more effort into her appearance than she ever had for Kevin’s benefit. Partly because she didn’t trust him not to have other people over and partly for reasons she didn’t want to think about.

On her walk, Sofia called Nate and tried to remain calm. His complaints about their mother’s incessant hovering in combination with the numbingly cold wind whipping her face were a good distraction. Joining in his complaints with reminiscent tales from their childhood, getting increasingly more animated each time was a good release of energy.

The call hadn’t ended when she rang Kevin’s doorbell; she only ended it when Patty opened the door, causing her to cut Nate off mid-sentence and rip her headphones from her ears.

“Kev didn’t say anyone else was going to be here,” Sofia said uncertainly, straining to hear if anyone else was inside.

Patty blinked once, “I live here.”

“Oh,” Sofia muttered. “Sorry.”

Patty stepped aside, letting Sofia into the house.

Immediately Sofia was reminded of Kev’s place in NYC—the décor, the furniture, the vibe all felt exactly the same just laid out differently.

Patty led her up a staircase and gestured into a room but didn’t walk into it himself, just kept walking up another staircase. Sofia did a small spin in the hall before she stepped into the room. Kevin immediately rose to his feet, his entire body wrapping around hers just as easily as it had the day before.

“Patty doesn’t like me very much.”

“Patty doesn’t like anyone—he’s emotionally stunted. He’s a hockey player. Except for Teeks and Gin and Amy, he likes them plenty.”

Sofia nodded, not knowing who they were or if she should.

Kevin looked her up and down once, a confused expression on his face. He told her to find a place for her coat and hat in the same breath as he asked her why she wore jeans. She shrugged awkwardly, looking everywhere in the room but him. For a short while she was left standing in the middle of the living room, wondering where Kev had walked off to and also taking note of all the knick-knacks and sports memorabilia she remembered.

“For you,” Kev said, thrusting a pair of sweats at her. “My rooms across the hall to get changed.”

The sweats were heavy and soft in her hands, a familiar and well-worn maroon of a pair that she’d worn many times before.

She hadn’t yet left the room when Kev spoke again, “Gracia says she hasn’t heard from you in ages.”

“They’re your friends,” Sofia said simply, shrugging.

“They’re your friends, too, Sof,” he said, sounding pained.

“They were yours first, it’s fine.”

“You make it sound like we got divorced.”

“That’s kind of what it felt like.”

They weren’t the words she intended to say. Her stomach bottomed out, nausea washing over her. Kev stood in front of her, grimacing and looking utterly perplexed. A loud bang from upstairs shook them from out of their surprise. Sofia clutched the sweats to her chest, spinning quickly and essentially sprinting from the room.

Much like the rest of the house, Kevin’s room was unsurprising—his unimaginative bed sheets were thrown haphazardly across the bed, there were clothes thrown into the corner that may or may not have been clean, and right above the headboard was the signed Paul Pierce championship jersey he’d cried over.

It was probably the only room in the house that hadn’t been touched by an interior designer and Sofia knew it was because he was adamant about his room being his. Even his long-term relationships had a hard time breaking that.

There was another bang from upstairs, immediately following by a shrill giggle which itself was followed by Kevin calling up the stairs to make sure nothing or nobody was broken.

Without hesitation, wearing Kevin’s college sweats—rolled up multiple times—and leaving her jeans neatly folded on his bed, Sofia joined him on the couch. She stepped onto the cushion next to him, folding her legs underneath her to get comfortable.

“I didn’t come here to talk about that,” she told him quietly but firmly.

“Why’d you come then?” he asked, not unkindly but curiously.

“I missed you.”

The admission wasn’t nearly as daunting as she’d thought it would be. Kevin didn’t seem to find it scary either, because he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Sofia let herself relax into it.

“Tell me about the friends you’ve made in Philly.”

Sofia frowned, tried not to stiffen, and countered, “Tell me about your friends.”

“I’ve got a whole team, babe. Patty’s upstairs. Sometimes I hang out with the guys who aren’t children—some of them have children.” He squeezed her shoulders. “Don’t deflect.”

Sofia thought for a moment, the hesitation a dead giveaway and she knew it, but she still said, “Erin from work is my friend.”

“Yeah?” Kev asked, sounding pleased to hear it. “She live around here?”

“Sure,” Sofia said. She knew how uncertain she sounded.

“When’s her birthday?” Kevin already sounded like he didn’t believe her.

“Do you want me to set you up? What’s with all the questions?”

“Just worried that you don’t have any friends in Philly yet.”

“Has Nate called you? Did you invite me over because you’ve been conspiring against me?” She asked tightly, trying to pull away. Kevin didn’t let her.

“I haven’t spoken to Nate in years, Sof. I just remember meeting you and having to work real fucking hard to keep you around—even though I knew you wanted to be friends.”

“I’m not good at initiating conversations.”

“I know.”

Sofia relaxed, though she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little on edge and expectant of more questions. None seemed to come, though, and Kevin was happy to sit and watch the basketball game he’d put on. She wasn’t overly invested in basketball—or any sport for that matter—but over the years she’d known Kev, she’d gotten used to it could say that she cared enough.

She also knew better than to interrupt during the middle of gameplay, so she waited until the quarter was over before saying, “I don’t remember the day we met.”

“You what?” he said, in such disbelief that it sounded like he was laughing. “You hurt me. Deep to my core, Sof.”

“Tell me, then!”

“You were lost—”

“I would never get lost in New York!” she protested loudly, twisting out of his arms just to prove how wrong he was.

“You said that at the time, too. You were lost, Gracia saw and wanted to help out. It was pretty funny, a bunch of out of towners helping the local. You kept telling us they’d changed a sign and refused to admit it was because you’d never been in Hell’s Kitchen before. Jimmy complained about being hungry the entire time and somehow we conned you into coming to that Thai restaurant that ended up being our favourite place.”

Sofia hummed, vivid images flooding her memory—not only of that day, but of every time they were in that restaurant after.

“You really don’t remember?”

“I do actually… I just forgot it was the first time we met. I remember sitting next to Gracia, watching the three of you nearly get into a fight about which Muppet was the best and I remember thinking that it was the first time since high school that I felt like I had friends. I did not think it was Day One.”

“You thought that, and you still made me work for it, huh?”

“Genuinely didn’t think you’d want me around.”

“Sof… How long did it take you to realise?”

“A month? Two?”

The noise Kevin made was the most pained Sofia had ever heard. The arm not wrapped around her shoulders quickly appeared in front of her and she was encased in a tight, full bodied, Kevin Hayes hug.

“Next time we go out, you should invite Erin. She’ll be your friend in no time.”

“She’ll be your friend in no time,” Sofia corrected quietly. Being wrapped up in Kevin’s arms was enough to make her want to fall asleep.

“No way—I’m the best wingman. Erin’s gonna be your friend.”

Later, as Sofia was walking home, still wearing Kevin’s Boston College pants and carrying her jeans in her arms, Sofia realised that there were no regrets flowing through her about the evening. It had been a great relief to see him—spend time with him. She couldn’t wait to do it again.

Flashback

Sofia flew into Kevin’s apartment, plastic bags filled with Chinese food rustling and banging against the wall as she did so. As she rounded the corner into his kitchen, she saw Kevin smirking at her.

“Did any of the food actually make it?”

“Pretty sure the soups a lost cause,” she said, seriously and shamelessly. “The rest should be good.”

“The soup’s the best part,” he frowned. “Why’re you so hyped up?”

“I just have so much energy—I don’t know why. Maybe it was all the coffee I drank today?”

“Did you drink a whole bag?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.”

Sofia bounced around the kitchen collecting bowls and cutlery. Kevin pulled the bag over to the sink and lamented the loss of the Chicken and Sweet Corn soup, watching it pour from the bag into the drain.

After dishing up their food, they moved to Kevin’s couch and the television that was showing half-time of a basketball game. Next to the couch were two suitcases—Sofia kicked on her mood dampening instantly.

“Is Boston still looking good?”

The trade deadline was only days away and Kevin had been the talk of the town since signing a one year-contract prior to the beginning of the season.

“There or Winnipeg.”

“When do you surprise us all with a new Rangers contract?” she asked hopefully, standing on the middle cushion of the couch so she could fold her legs beneath her.

“Sorry, Sof. That’s not an offer that’s been on the table.”

Sofia sighed and let it go. She’d come to terms with Kevin leaving, even if she was still hopeful that Jeff Gorton would pull through and keep Kev in the city.

Boston was her second choice after the Rangers—it was close enough that it wouldn’t feel like losing him and he’d get to be close to his family.

“Winnipeg would suck,” she opted to say, her mouth filled with food.

“It’s really not that bad.”

“Sure,” Sofia said, utterly facetiously.

The basketball game started again; the scores so lopsided that Sofia couldn’t even bring herself to be interested in it no matter how much she liked the sport. She continued to eat her food, letting her eyes race around the room and out the window to East River. She lamented that it was only a matter of time until the view was gone from her life forever.

When the boys decided to go their separate ways—or Gracia finally convinced Brady to move in with her—Sofia was worried that she’d lose touch until them, first of all, or that it would be too weird to just hang out with Kev. In the beginning she had considered just stopping all one-on-one hangouts with any of them. That all changed when East River was in front of her, out of Kevin’s window.

Kev’s arm wrapped around her shoulder when they’d put their bowls on the coffee table. He kicked his feet up beside their discarded food and she leaned into him, focusing her attention back on the game that was becoming even more of a blowout and only getting worse by the minute. It didn’t stop Kevin from getting loud and shouting objections despite the Celtics being the team with the decisive lead.

Despite the many coffees she’d consumed through the day, and the frequent jostling as Kevin got invested in the game and moved like he was about to jump to his feet and into the television, Sofia felt her eyes slip shut every so often.

It had been a long day with her future sister-in-law doing wedding preparation and falling asleep was all she wanted to do. If she hadn’t promised Kevin that she’d spend the night with him she’d already be asleep in her own apartment.

The game finally ended, and they gathered up their dishes. Kevin questioned her and laughed, as normal, when she filled up his sink and washed them by hand, firmly telling him that there weren’t enough dishes to put them in the dishwasher. He continued to chirp her, even whilst putting things in the trash.

Sofia drained the sink and turned, expecting to find an empty kitchen because the room had gone silent. Kevin was there, though, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen, his hands curled over the edge and his eyes locked on her.

“What’re you staring at?” Sofia asked, reaching for a dish towel.

“You.”

“Clearly, but why? What do I have on my face?” With the back of her hand, Sofia wiped across her mouth to remove anything that might be lingering from dinner.

“If I kissed you right now…” Kevin said slowly.

“Why would you want to do that?” she asked back, a challenge in her voice—she was trying to work out if he was being serious or just pulling her leg.

“It feels like the right thing to do.”

Sofia took a step towards Kevin and smiled, “You better kiss me then, if it feels like the right thing to do.”

She was met in the middle of the kitchen, one hand pulling her in by her waist and the other lifting her face to him. Sofia strained to her toes to press her mouth against her, their tongues instantly meeting and their eyes falling shut simultaneously.

Sofia’s arm snaked around his neck, tugging him as close as she could manage.

It would be a lie to say that the thought had never crossed her mind—a fleeting thought of what Kevin might taste like, how his hands might feel on her, his fingers pressing into her waist. It wasn’t a thought that had ever really lingered, however. They were also thoughts she’d had about Jimmy on occasion, maybe even Kreider. Mika when he’d first arrived. They were all attractive men who were very talented in what they did—so it wasn’t a surprise.

Having Kevin’s body pressed so close against hers, trying desperately to be even closer, made her wonder why she’d ever thought of anybody but him.

“You’re really hot,” Kev breathed, breaking their kiss.

“You’re really hot,” she said back, trying to pull him back into their kiss but he resisted. “What?”

“This could be even more fun.”

“How’s that?”

“If we were horizontal.”

Sofia grinned, even as her cheeks flamed, and told Kevin to lead the way. To her surprise, Kevin’s hand dropped to the back of her thighs and, with an effortlessness Sofia couldn’t totally fathom, lifted her off the ground. She giggled, shrill and carefree, as Kevin walked at pace. His hands moved to her ass and he stopped before he’d reached his bedroom to press her up against the wall, making her moan into his mouth. Sofia raked her hands through his hair, pushing it back out of his face even while her own was getting in the way.

Cool air hit her stomach just before Kevin’s fingers pressed against her skin, moving their way up her body, exposing more and more of her, only stopping when he reached her bra.

She laughed again, burying her face in his shoulder and letting her body shake.

“What’s so funny? I’m touching your tits; don’t know why you’re laughing.”

“I’m wearing the least sexy underwear I own.”

“I’m gonna let you in on a secret,” Kevin breathed, pushing her shirt up so it was bunched across her clavicle. He nudged her hand out of the way and pulled her shirt over her head to reveal the plain t-shirt bra she was wearing.

“What’s the secret?” Sofia prompted.

“You’re two seconds away from not even wearing a bra—any guy who actually has the brain power to think that your bra isn’t sexy enough isn’t worth it.”

“Seems like you’ve still got a lot of brain power,” Sofia said. She was pushing his shirt up his body as he spoke. He raised his arms reflexively, his pecs flexing once it was off. Sofia laughed again.

“Brain power slowly disappearing.”

“We should get to the bed before it’s gone, then,” Sofia urged, trying to push off the wall, only succeeding in pressing into Kevin’s strong, unmoving body.

“Anything you want, babe. Anything at all.”

There was a startlingly short amount of time between Sofia’s back leaving the wall and meeting Kevin’s mattress. Kevin wasted even less time kissing her mouth, then her jaw—her collarbone, the valley between her breasts and down her stomach.

Sofia angled her body up, reaching behind herself to unsnap her bra so she could rip it off and flight it across Kevin’s sparsely decorated room, all while he was trying to get her to lift her hips so he could pull her sweats down her legs.

“I can’t believe you didn’t put on better panties for me,” he teased. He’d barely finished speaking when his mouth was against her, through her underwear. Sofia’s hips arched at the sensation, chasing it in desperation. There were no words left in her mind to retort, just a constant stream of ‘more, more, more’—so she told him.

Kevin’s head lifted and he crawled back to hover over her entire body, his smirk unrelenting as he said, “Oh you beg. I can’t wait to hear you beg for my cock.”

Sofia stifled a giggle with her arm over her mouth.

“What’s so funny now?” his smirk turned into a genuine if not slightly confused smile.

“Dirty talk—I can’t do it. It’s too funny.”

“That wasn’t even remotely dirty,” he said, pressing a kiss to her mouth before trailing down her stomach again. “I guess I’ll just have to tell you how good you are and how good you look.”

He pressed kisses down the inside of her thigh, following her underwear as he pulled it down her legs.

“That sounds good,” she said, pleased. “I already know that this—you—are going to be amazing.”

“Damn straight, baby. I’m going to make you feel better than you ever have.”

Their next kiss was searing; Sofia felt it in every inch of her body, electricity taking over her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he willingly moved so he was essentially laying right on top of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and without any warning, rolled so that Sofia was on top of him.

“Want me to do all the work, huh?” she winked, rolling her hips just to feel him twitch beneath her.

“Was kinda hoping you’d sit on my face—I was trying to work out how to ask without you laughing at me.” He smiled, her fingers digging into her thighs.

Sofia knew that she was blushing, all the way down to her chest. He was so sincere that she couldn’t do anything but silently knee crawl up his body so that she was indeed sitting on his face.

A gasp left her mouth instantly, Kevin using his hands on her thighs to pull her onto his mouth. The suction he applied to her clit was enough to make her eyes roll back into her head—she clutched the headboard, her knuckles turning white, and rolled her hips.

With Kevin’s tongue exploring every inch of her, and his fingers slowly joining, teasing her oh so perfectly, Sofia was sure she couldn’t form a coherent sentence. So, she let the words fall form her mouth freely—swearing and begging for more, telling him exactly how close she was to coming. As if the frantic words and equally frantic rolls of her hips weren’t enough of a giveaway.

When she did come, it was with Kevin’s name on her tongue.

“Never knew you could be so loud,” Kevin smirked, his mouth wet and shining.

The hand that was still on her thigh shifted to her breast, his thumb rolling over nipple making her jolt.

“I should have known you’d be as cocky in bed as out of it,” Sofia chided—it held no weight when she said it in such a low and wanting voice.

Sofia had enough sense, when Kevin opened his mouth, to reach one hand behind her and palm him through his sweats. She raised one eyebrow at him, his mouth hanging open—his brain short circuiting.

She swung her leg, kneeling on the bed beside him. Her hand never moved.

“Will you be able to get it up again?” her question was punctuated by a squeeze.

“For you, baby? Of course.”

Kevin shuffled so that he was sitting up against the headboard, at the same time as Sofia tugged his sweats off. Once they were thrown somewhere near her own, she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and her mouth around the head.

The noise that left Kev was animalistic.

“Warn a guy, Sof.”

Sofia hummed in response and took in even more of him. She caught sight of Kevin’s hand twitching on his stomach and grabbed it, placing it in her hair, squeezing so that his fingers got a hold, and he got the message.

“You’re so good, Sof. So, so good,” he praised. It was easy to tell that he was struggling to keep his hips from thrusting into the air—Sofia was grateful—and the noises he was making were amongst the most pornographic Sofia had ever heard.

With a few more words of praise and breathy moans, Kev gave one last tug of Sofia’s hair and was coming in her mouth. She swallowed what she could before she sat back on her haunches, licking at the come that was caught on her lips. He twitched in the hand she hadn’t year removed from his softening cock.

“Come here,” he said, lazily grabbing at her arm and sitting in his lap. “I promise I can last longer than that.”

Sofia giggled, kissing him softly, “That’s what they all say.”

“I mean it, though.”

“I know, Kev.”

She kissed him again, bitting at his lower lip when his hand squeezed her ass.

End Flashback

“This is going to sound like I’ve been stalking you,” Erin said, closing the door behind her as she stepped into Sofia’s office. “And I have—but some guy named Kevin was liking and commenting on all your Insta photos, so I also stalked him and he’s, like, sorta famous? Plays hockey? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone, much less someone famous.”

Sofia blinked at Erin, watched her sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. Slowly, she said, “I’m not seeing anyone. Definitely not Kev.”

“Maybe you should—his comments are really cute. He’s kinda cute, too, in a weird way. Goofy way. I get that this is weird, but you don’t really tell me—or anyone—about what’s going on in your life, but I was wondering if it was because you had a famous boyfriend and were trying to keep it lowkey.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Sofia shrugged, looking away from Erin.

“Do you want me to set you up with someone?” Erin powered on. “They’ll be a filthy commoner, but they’ll be cute.”

Sofia smiled, the feeling that she was being used to meet hockey players lifting, and she shook her head. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

Erin stood, smiling the same smile she’d had since she walked into the office.

“If you change your mind, just let me know.”

The door was closing when Sofia pulled her back in and gathered up the courage to say, “Do you want to come out for a drink with my friends—and me? Obviously.”

“Sure! Let me know when and where and I’ll put my dancing shoes on,” Erin said with a quick shimmy as she finally left.

To Kev – making friends is harder than dating @ 9:12am

To Kev – erin is expecting drinks @ 9:13am

To Kev – please organise drinks @ 9:13am

From Kev – you got it babe. 1 night of drinks in your future @ 9:15am

From Kev – even Patty’s excited. He’s never excited @ 9:17am

To Kev – I’ll believe it when I see it @ 9:17am

From Kev -- *a photo of an emotionless Patty sitting on Kevin’s couch* @ 9:19am

To Kev – he looks as bored as ever @ 9:20am

From Kev – Gin’s excited tho! @ 9:21am

From Kev -- *a photo of a young woman that Sofia’s never seen before giving a thumbs up with a huge smile* @ 9:21am

Sofia wasn’t late—only because she maintained that you could never be late to meet people at a bar. Kev had differing opinions. As did Erin who had sent her multiple photos of her sitting at the bar by herself.

As soon as Sofia walked in, she made a beeline for Erin only for her to not be at the bar. She huffed to herself and looked around in desperation, worried that she would never find her in the crowded bar. She wandered around aimlessly, feeling horrible at having left Erin to fend for herself.

When she did find Erin, it was only because Kevin was waving at her and she saw Erin sitting at the table with him, Patty and the girl from the photo. Kevin was on his feet, opening his arms as soon as he saw her, and she folded easily under his arm.

“Thank you for finding Erin.”

“She found us,” Kev laughed. “Came over and told us who she was and just sat down.”

“I’m very good at making myself at home,” Erin said, tilting her head back to look at Kevin and Sofia. “He’s very tall—very hard to miss.”

“And this is Gin—you didn’t meet her last week. You heard her dropping everything upstairs, but she didn’t come down.”

Gin stood, pulling Sofia into a welcoming hug before she sat back down beside Patty, holding his hand instantly. Patty didn’t protest; Sofia was surprised.

Kevin made a trip to the bar, getting the next round of drinks—he’d probably be getting them all night.

A drink materialised in front of her and she thanked Kev, watching him collapse into the seat beside her. The conversation was natural, mostly happening between Erin and Gin while Sofia and Patty sat silently. Sofia liked to think that she looked less angry than Patty, but she couldn’t be sure.

It was revealed that Patty had asked Gin to move to Philly with him just that summer, and that they were supposed to have found their own place—except that Patty had shown up for training camp with no progress made on that front and he moved back in, Gin joining shortly after.

“Kev gets lonely, so it’s good that you stayed,” Sofia said. It bordered on a thank you.

“I do get lonely,” Kev agreed, no hesitation.

It was why he’d tried so hard to get her to visit him so often.

A few drinks later, a pleasant back was sweeping across all of them, Kevin was halfway across the bar, talking to a woman he’d spotted earlier. The four remaining at the table watched him and scrutinised his every move.

Erin said in a sing-song voice, “Kev’s getting lucky tonight.”

“He’s already struck out,” Sofia said easily.

“What? No way!” Gin said in disbelief. “He’s buying her a drink.”

“He doesn’t believe me when I tell him that buying a drink after you’ve been rejected doesn’t make you a good guy, it makes you a guy who doesn’t understand what ‘no’ means.”

“He does it all the time,” Patty agreed. “It’s weird.”

“He’s charming enough to get away with it,” Erin said though she didn’t sound totally convinced and they all watched closely.

The woman accepted the drink and Kevin was returning to the table, entirely unbothered by having been rejected.

“What happened there, Kev?” Gin teased.

“Not her type,” he shrugged, dropping heavily back into the seat he previously occupied beside Sofia.

“She like her guys with at least half a brain?” Sofia asked, poking at Kevin’s arm.

Kevin corrected, “She likes women with at least half a brain.”

“So, you’ve failed both requirements.”

Erin stood up, drained what was left in her glass, and announced with her shoulders pulled back, “I pass both. Thanks for having me, I’ll see you folks later.”

“Keep inviting Erin places,” Kevin laughed, “she’s fun.”

Sofia’s mouth opened, threatening to ask if that meant Erin was more fun than her but she held it back and raised her drink to her mouth.

They continued talking and eventually watched Erin and the woman leave the bar. Kev and Gin did the heavy lifting of the conversation, occasionally Patty contributed—he mostly just looked content to sit and listen.

“Oh!” Gin said, interrupting herself mid-story about something Patty had done one summer when they were younger. “Tonight is the perfect night to smoke the good shit I bought.”

And that was how the four of them ended up on Kevin’s rooftop, sitting on the outdoor couches around a gas heater, as Kevin basically demanded that Sofia roll the joints because she always did them neater that anyone else.

“I’m convinced you just like watching me lick the paper,” Sofia said, as she did just that, making eye contact with Kev as she did so.

“It’s the whole process.”

Sofia reached out to hand the joint to Gin and went about rolling one for herself and Kev.

It was arguably too cold to be on the rooftop, even with the gas heater, but she was filled with warmth when she inhaled, and it soon made her more relaxed than she had been all night.

Patty got more talkative with every drag he took, Kev got quieter and it was very much a strange role reversal that Sofia didn’t know what to make of. She pulled her feet onto the cushion and wrapped her arms around her legs, to fight off the cool breeze.

“Smile for me?” Gin asked Patty, her fingers dancing up the front of his t-shirt to the collar. “A real smile, come on,” she pressed when Patty only pulled his mouth into a thin line with the corners slightly upturned.

Next thing Sofia knew, she was seeing a genuine smile from Patty—and noticing the fact that his front tooth was chipped. It felt like she was seeing something that wasn’t for her. She shifted so she was only looking at Kevin, the profile of his face illuminated by the moon and some streetlights.

“Kev?”

“Sof?”

Her name sounded slow coming from his mouth, she didn’t know if it’s how he was speaking or her hearing ability.

��I’m gonna go raid your kitchen.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in there.”

“You always do this to me,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, and I also always order you food. We gotta get inside though because I’m pretty sure they’re about to fuck.”

Sure enough, Patty & Gin were making out sloppily, hands wandering up so far up shirts they were no longer visible. Kevin dropped what was left of the joint into the ash tray before helping Sofia to her feet.

He hadn’t been lying about there being no food in his kitchen, but Sofia still felt disappointed as she opened his cupboards and fridge. She was the most disappointed when she pulled open his freezer revealing that there wasn’t even a frozen pizza to cook. It was as easy as asking him to have pizza delivered, though.

Waiting for the pizza, standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, Sofia began to experience déjà vu. Not just from where they were standing; the way Kevin was looking at her was very much the same as that night.

“Why didn’t you ever call me back?”

“Sleeping with you as a mistake.”

“Fuck,” Sofia swore, wrapping her hands around the edge of the counter to stop herself from falling to the floor. She bent over the counter, her breathing heavy.

“No, fuck, Sof—that’s not what I meant,” Kev said, a large hand pressing between her shoulder blades. “It shouldn’t have just been once and it really shouldn’t have been just before I was getting traded. I panicked.”

“You were my best friend and you just left.”

“I know, Sof. There’s nothing I can do to take it back,” he said, his voice still slow to her ears, “and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I wouldn’t forgive me.”

“I don’t,” Sofia said into the marble. “I am so glad you’re back in my life, Kev, but I don’t forgive you—not yet.”

Kevin’s hand rubbed up and down her back, something he had done many times before, and didn’t let go until her breathing had evened out. Maybe in the morning she could pass it off as something that was caused by the pot, even if both of them would know that she was lying.

A phone call came through as Sofia walked home from the bus stop.

“Sofia speaking,” she answered the call formally because she was too cold to remove her hands from her pockets.

“It’s been a week and you don’t even remember who I am,” her brother’s voice filled her ears. “Texting doesn’t really cut it after daily phone calls—someone could have stolen your phone and be pretending to be you.”

“I have friends now,” Sofia deadpanned. Truthfully the sentence made her giddy.

“No shit!” Nate exclaimed, his joking tone disappearing entirely to make way for sincere pride. “That’s great, Sof! Tell me about them.”

“Erin from work! We get lunch together now and she’s great and she fits in really well with Kev, Patty and Gin so it’s just like, all of a sudden, I’ve got a friend group again, Nate. And I think I’m going to call Gracia and apologise for ghosting her.”

“Wait hold on—back up for a sec. Kev? As in Kevin Hayes?”

“No,” Sofia said, without missing a beat, “the Nets’ small forward Kevin Durant.”

“Sure—I’m glad you’re talking to him again, Sof. I know how much you missed him. I’m also glad you have a work friend, because relying on him for friends again—”

“Would be stupid, I know,” Sofia said, barely holding in a sigh.

Their conversation easily moved into Nate’s family and their parents, because if Sofia was awful at keeping in contact with her friends she was just as bad with everyone in her family—they were all uniquely exhausting and somehow easier to deal with when they were directly in front of her.

She ended the call when she reached her front door and found Kevin—Hayes, not Durant—on her doorstep, bundled up in a scarf and beanie despite the fact it wasn’t going to do anything at all when the drizzle was hitting him directly in the face.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” he asked, standing to let Sofia get to her door.

Her answer was easy, but emotionless: “Can’t afford the time off.”

Her teeth chattered as she walked inside, realising that it was unbelievably colder inside than out and then cursing herself because she turned into the living room and felt the gust of cold wind from one of her front windows.

Kevin was squatting in front of Sofia’s dwindling stash of wood, shoving logs into the fireplace. He placed some fire starters amongst the logs and within seconds he had a fire going. Sofia sat cross-legged beside him without taking off any of her outwear.

“Spend it with me?”

“Christmas?” she clarified, her head tilting.

“Yeah. Mom would love to see you.”

“Your family’s coming down?” Sofia asked, horrified. “Kev, your house is so bare you may as well be the Grinch. Do you even have a tree?”

“No, but—”

“But what? It’s two weeks to Christmas; no way are you getting a tree.”

Kevin shrugged but she could see the cogs rolling in his brain as he tried to think of a solution to the problem he’d created for himself. His face lit up as one came to him: “I’ll get a fake one.”

Sofia immediately shook her head, “They’re bad for the environment unless you plan on using it for a decade or whatever.”

“What choice do I have?” he sighed, his shoulders sagging as he fell so he was laying back on the carpet and staring up at the ceiling. It was only for a brief moment before he shot back up, “You’ve got a tree. A good tree. A great tree.”

Slowly Sofia said, “I know, I picked it before Thanksgiving.”

“Can I borrow it?”

“No.”

“Please?” Kev said, getting into his knees and moving towards her to his hands resting softly on her knees. “You can spend as much time as you want at my house and you won’t even have to think about not having a tree. Please, Sofia.”

“You planned this,” Sofia said, trying not to sound too gruff.

“I kind of hoped that you’d just vomit tinsel all over my house at some point but the tree I hadn’t thought about.”

“Why didn’t you do it yourself?”

“Uh—I kind of haven’t since you haven’t been around? You always did my decorations and then you weren’t there and... I don’t know, it didn’t really feel like Christmas.”

A heavy sigh fell from Sofia’s mouth, three years of Christmases rolling through her mind at lightning speed—an absurdly large tree with East River as the backdrop in the window, the fairy lights she hung up meticulously and the little Santas she had hidden around for him to find throughout the month of December.

“Fine. But only because I don’t want your mom to be disappointed in me when she sees there are no decorations in your house.”

“Mom would never be disappointed in you. You’re the best and I love you and I cannot thank you enough, Sof,” Kev said, placing his hands on her cheeks and pulling her towards him. She held her breath, watching his mouth get closer only for it to leave her sight as he titled upwards to kiss her forehead.

He dropped back down, stretching his arms out behind him and basking in the heat of the fire. Sofia stared at his profile as it was being lit up in flickering orange. Her attention drifted to the tree, not so sad to see it go as she had initially expected; she closed her eyes, picturing Kevin’s home to try and picture where it would fit best. There was more space in his home, certainly, but it was still going to take some furniture rearranging.

Opening her eyes to see Kevin watching her carefully, Sofia immediately averted her eyes to the mantle and the lone Christmas stocking hanging there.

“Do Gin and Patty not care about Christmas?” she asked as she realised that she would have to get one made for them as well as Kevin.

“Their room is straight out of Santa’s workshop,” Kevin said fondly, “but I was waiting for you—or going to hire someone.”

“You have to ask if you want things. You can’t just wait for me to read your mind.”

“It’s only been two weeks since we started talking again. It felt really wrong to ask you to do this for me.”

“I’d do anything for you, Kev. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted, quietly, mostly to himself, before lifting his head and saying more strongly, “I’d do anything for you, too. You’re—you’re my Sof.”

Never before had Sofia had a choice of New Year’s Eve parties to choose from, but at twenty-five years old it had finally happened.

Initially she was going to spend the night with Erin and her friends until Erin stopped by her office, sat down opposite her, and very honestly but very kindly told Sofia to go to Kevin’s instead. Sofia wasn’t sure if Erin and Kevin had been talking—because if Kevin hadn’t said anything about her hardship in making friends, then Erin had worked it out for herself. Sofia wasn’t sure which was more embarrassing.

Sofia opened the door to Kev’s place, and it was only when she saw the many people inside that she realised she was about to meet his teammates for the first time. She knew, logically, that they were going to be there—Kev had told her, after all—but seeing so many big men standing around with their beautiful partners was a lot to take in. It had taken her more than a few parties with the Rangers for Sofia to feel comfortable around them, and it was going to be the same for the Flyers.

“Who brought the rocket?” One of the guys shouted out and Sofia stepped to the side to let whoever had just arrived pass—nobody did, though.

She didn’t have any time to really comprehend what was happening before Kev was throwing his arms into the air, visible over everybody’s heads, and coming to greet her.

“I’m so happy you came—you look phenomenal,” he said hurriedly, wrapping his arms around her.

All she’d chosen to wear were here favourite jeans and a brand-new silver sequinned crop top that was more or less covered by her coat, anyway. She wasn’t even wearing the heels that she knew made her ass look amazing.

“Someone here thinks I’m a rocket,” she whispered into his ear, almost too embarrassed to say it out loud.

“That’s because someone here has eyes.”

Maybe the hours upon hours she’d spent on YouTube watching makeup and hair tutorials had been worth it.

He was leading her through his house, past all the Christmas decorations, and up the stairs before she knew it, taking her bag from her as they went, dropping it in his bedroom on their way to the roof. He was running his mouth a million miles a minute about Patty and Gin and the elusive Teeks and Amy—all of whom lifted their heads as soon as the door to the rooftop opened.

Gin was on her feet instantly, hugging Sofia tightly and smelling very much like the alcohol she shared a name with.

“How long have you guys been going?” Sofia asked, eyeing the bottles on the table. “All day?”

“Only way to do it, baby!” Shouted someone, presumably Teeks.

“You’ve gotta catch up,” Kev said as he nudged her towards a seat. “I’ve gotta go back down and make sure no one’s breaking shit. Have fun, yeah?”

“Yes, Kev,” Sofia laughed softly.

As she moved closer to the couches, a shot glass was thrust into her hand by Gin, and she took a cautious sniff before lifting it to her mouth and tilting her head back.

“Someone downstairs called me a rocket,” Sofia said again, still confused. “Loudly, in front of everyone.”

Gin took her hand and twirled her in a circle, fanning her coat out only slightly.

“That’s because you are,” Gin said empathically, before turning to the still seated trio. “Sofia’s a rocket, right?”

“Total rocket,” Amy smiled.

“A smokeshow,” Nolan added, of course he barely moved his mouth and Sofia second guessed if she’d heard him right.

“You fit right in up here,” Teeks exclaimed. “A bunch of beauties.”

Amy bolted upright, her face lighting up, “We should find out who it was and set you up on a date!”

“There’s only one large idiot down there she should date,” Gin said matter-of-factly but in such a light and teasing way that there was no way she knew about Sofia and Kev’s history.

Sofia didn’t mean to make eye contact with Nolan as she finally sat down but she did. It was clear he knew why she didn’t have a response to Gin’s joke.

Another drink was sliding down her throat within seconds.

It was easy to hang out, even though she had never met Teeks and Amy before. She found a spot on one of the couches and let them hand her drinks while they basically talked around her. It was clear that her lack of consistent involvement in the conversation was concerning Amy, who kept trying to throw questions her way, but Patty was the one who directed conversation away from her and eventually Amy seemed to cotton on.

As midnight drew closer everyone stood up to make their way downstairs. Gin hauled Sofia to her feet and pushed her to the door wordlessly and Sofia let herself go. It was only when they made it to the ground floor did Sofia feel herself tense. The warmth of the heater and the bodies getting to her immediately.

People introduced themselves and Sofia introduced herself back, though she couldn’t stop herself from thinking that they were only doing so out of a sense of obligation.

With the group from the roof having spread out, Sofia turned around and ascended the staircase back to the roof. The door slammed shut and Sofia breathed in the fresh air on her way back to the couch.

She had barely sat down when she heard the door open again. Sofia was wholly unsurprised to see Kev walk through it.

“Countdown’s soon,” he said, standing with his hands tucked under his armpits because he hadn’t put a coat on. “You gonna come down?”

Sofia shook her head, “There’s too many people. I’m sorry.”

Kev’s face softened, though it hadn’t at all been harsh to begin with, and he excused himself for a moment. Sofia settled back onto the couch, blowing warm breath into the air just to see the condensation.

Kevin returned wearing a warm coat and made his way to the cushion right beside Sofia, bundling her up in his arms as if the coat wasn’t doing anything to warm him up.

“You should be downstairs with your friends.”

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, not stopping as he said, sincerely, “You’re my friend.”

“This is your party,” Sofia huffed. She was unable to stop herself from leaning into his warmth.

“Patty’s got it covered.”

“Kev—you don’t have to babysit me.”

Kev’s hands stopped, but only so he could pull her closer to him. Sofia inhaled, alcohol mixing with his cologne—the same he’d been wearing for years. It smelt like home.

“Sof, I’m not babysitting you. I’m going to start 2021 with my favourite person.”

Her heart fluttered.

“I’ve only been back in your life for a month, I’m flattered I’m back to the top spot already.”

“You never left it.”

“Kev,” she stressed, pressing herself impossibly closer to him.

Anything she might have been wanting to say next was interrupted by new light filling up the sky and the simultaneous, unmistakeable sound of fireworks.

Sofia pulled her face out of Kev’s chest to watch them. Kev pressed is lips to the top of her head, kissing her briefly but firmly.

“Happy New Year, Sof.”

“So, like, have you ever thought about dating Kevin?”

Sofia choked on her wine, a horrible sensation hitting the back of her nose just before she titled her head back to stop anything from running out. She splattered and coughed, bringing a napkin to her mouth because she needed to open her mouth to breath but was just as afraid of wine spilling from her mouth.

Erin waited her out, smiling knowingly.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Sofia struggled to ask and then coughed a few more times.

“A good one, apparently. I just think you would be good together. Nolan agrees with me, for what it’s worth.”

Sofia had expected dinner to be like every lunch they’d had during the week—being ambushed had not been on the agenda.

“Patty? You talk to Patty? About me?”

“Mostly about music—dude’s got a killer Spotify,” Erin added, as if Sofia was expected to have known that. “You just come up sometimes, you know? Also, you wouldn’t tell me about New Years, so I had to ask him, and he says you and Kev were nowhere to be seen at midnight.”

Sofia huffed, her shoulders slouching under an invisible weight that was getting heavier by the second.

“That makes it sound way bigger than the truth. Which, by the way, is that I got overwhelmed by how many people were downstairs and then Kev came up to make sure I was okay.”

“He came to check on you?”

“He’s my best friend,” Sofia argued. “You would have come to check on me if I’d been at yours!”

“I love you, sure, but I’d probably still get my kiss first. You’re a big girl; you don’t need me to babysit you.”

Sofia couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Erin’s choice of words.

“Nothing will happen between me and Kev because it already did and then he ignored me for eighteen months. He told me he shouldn’t have slept with me.”

Sofia wasn’t looking at Erin, but she was aware enough to sense her shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Erin’s hand reached out across the table, gently removing the fork Sofia had been gripping tightly so that she could hold it.

“Okay. I won’t bring it up again,” Erin assured her, squeezing her hand. “I’m gonna change the topic now, though, because I need you to explain Teeks to me. Nolan’s mentioned him and I watched some videos—but I don’t quite understand.”

Sofia smiled appreciatively, the weight lessening on her chest, as they both, in jest, to solve Travis Konecny.

It was just the two of them in Kevin’s house when bye week rolled around; Patty and Gin were enjoying their warm weekend in Florida for the All-Star Game and would be spending the rest of bye week. Sofia had spent the weeks leading up their departure lamenting non-stop that she couldn’t get any time off to join them in the sun. Instead, Sofia was spending her Friday night on Kevin’s couch in Philly, watching Patty light it up in the Accuracy Shooting competition.

A shiver ran down her spine, a remnant of the chill she’d gotten when walking to his place.

“I think you’re an idiot for not getting out of Philly,” Sofia said as she pulled her blanket off the back of Kev’s couch and wrapped it tightly around herself. “If I were you and had just been given a week off, I’d be in Cabo so quick.”

Kev grunted. “Half the league is in Cabo.”

“Yeah, because it’s hot and they aren’t idiots.”

Kev reached out to grab the edge of Sofia’s blanket, only for her to swat his hand away and tell him it was his own fault if he was cold. His laughter filled her ears; Sofia smiled softly to herself.

It was something they’d done in New York—though, admittedly, there wasn’t much they hadn’t done in New York—and they were quick to critique the players efforts. Sofia was always more vocal because Kev knew exactly how difficult the skills were, except for when someone made what he deemed a rookie mistake. Then it was a free for all.

The night lingered on after the skills competition ended, Sofia’s eyes grew heavy. When it reached the point that she was just laying down on the couch and pulling the blanket tighter to her chin she decided that it was maybe time to go home. She didn’t let the blanket go, though, even as she stood and told Kevin. It was bunched up and draped over shoulders.

“You should stay,” Kev said while Sofia was gathering her things. “It’s cold outside and I know your house is going to be freezing.”

Having really just overcome her chill from the walk over, Sofia didn’t hesitate to agree. She wrapped the blanket back around herself again, following Kev into his bedroom easily. He opened his drawers for her to sort through, letting her find something to sleep in, before he started to strip—Sofia only knew that because she looked into the mirror hanging above his dresser and made eye contact as he was tugging his shirt over his head. She averted her eyes and found a shirt and some shorts to wear as pyjamas.

The blanket fell to the floor as she began to undress herself, it was yet another thing they used to do regularly so it wasn’t as if it was weird. If she changed a little quicker than usual, that was nobody’s business.

Her eyes flickered up to the mirror again, meeting his gaze again accidentally.

Sofia asked, as she turned, quietly and with some concern, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I want to kiss you,” Kev admitted freely, his heart on his sleeve.

The statement filled every corner of Sofia’s mind, accompanied by images of them standing in his old kitchen. The beat of her heart quickened, and her palms began to sweat.

All she managed to say was, “Kev.”

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards, forcefully. Insincerely. Sofia frowned at him but waited him out for his reasoning.

“You keep saying my name like that and it breaks my heart every time.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Sofia muttered, her frown deepening. “I’ve always called you Kev.”

“You used to say it with a smile, though. Now it’s just so short and sad that I don’t know if you trust me.”

Sheepishly, Sofia admitted, “It always kind of feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“There’s no other shoe.”

“I mean,” Sofia huffed, folding her hands behind her back and looking at the wall behind him, “you wanting to kiss me feels a bit like the other shoe.”

“Why’s it a bad thing?”

“Trade deadline is in a month—”

Kev interrupted her quickly, easily, saying, “There have been no talks about trading me. This is nothing like last time.”

“You can’t know that until the deadline passes,” Sofia said with a heavy heart.

It had been crossing her mind more frequently, a constant question of if she should stop herself from getting too comfortable. Sure, he was right in that there were no talks about him being on the move, but he could be asked to submit his No-Trade List at any moment.

Kevin moved towards her, slowly, one step at a time—almost as if she was a skittish animal who would scamper the minute, she realised he was moving. Sofia stood still.

“If I do get traded—and I really don’t think I will—you’re going to be the first person I call. I promise you, no matter what, this is nothing like last time. I’ll do it right.”

“What’s ‘it’?” Sofia asked, being too afraid to assume anything.

“Whatever you want it to be, Sof. We can be friends; we can be friends with benefits… This can be a relationship if you want it to be. I’m happy with whatever you’re willing to give me.”

Sofia sighed, almost wistfully, “A relationship?”

“Is that what you want?”

Kev took one step closer and it was enough for Sofia to feel drawn to him—tethered to him. It was impossible to fight it, the pull, and Sofia closed the space between them in two long strides. In order for her lips to reach his, Sofia had to press up on her toes and wrap her arms around his neck to get closer—so she did, just before their lips met and they melted into each other.

Kev’s hand met her waist, his fingers pressing into her hips. The blanket was dropped to the floor and Kev’s fingers brushed the skin under her hoodie—Sofia dropped her forehead to Kev’s shoulder and let out a breathy laugh.

Kev’s hands stilled; his chin moved to rest on top of her head. He laughed as he asked, “what’re you laughing at?”

“I’m wearing my unsexy underwear again.”

Kevin’s hands retreated and Sofia was taken aback by his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug. She settled her head on his shoulder, melting into the hug and her fingers entangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“This is a bit different to where we were headed,” Sofia said after more than a few long minutes.

Kev held her closer, saying, “I just… Needed to, ya know? You’re my best friend, my favourite person, and sometimes you’ve just gotta hug that person.”

“Yeah, Kev. I know.”

It had been a long day at the Flyers Wives Carnival, even if she hadn’t been tasked with helping out in any way that was meaningful. It had just been a solid few hours surrounded by hoards of people, typically only with Erin by her side to keep her sane.

Kevin was less exhausted, to no one’s surprise, and was happily recounting stories of the people he’d met as they entered his house.

Her first priority was to change out of her jeans so, despite feeling drained, she sprinted up the staircase and into Kev’s room so she could put on a pair of sweats and then faceplant on his couch. Kev chased her the entire way up, pinching at her waist as they went.

When she reached the dresser, she pulled out the drawer that had become hers, but was prevented from getting any further because Kev stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

“Thank you for coming today,” Kev whispered into her ear.

She leant back into him, her eyes falling shut. She hummed in lieu of responding because all day she had been telling him she as more than happy to have been there—that she couldn’t wait to do it again as an official member of the Flyers Wives.

Please consider leaving feedback - reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

#kevin hayes fic #kevin hayes imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #homemade fic #fic: flyers #i'm drunk so i'm gonna post it before i have a chance to second guess what needs to be changed #got a hold on me fic

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moonbaby26 · 3 years

Text

Title: Diamond in the Rough

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. You and the others get some more down time in your last day and night on the ship together. Reader talks about some sensitive things with Peter, culminating in more bonding and fluff at the end.

Warnings: Some cursing, mentions of sex and arousal. Nothing explicit though.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

“So you really weren’t going to tell me that you just said ‘screw it, peace out, guys!’, and pulled the sacrifice card to throw yourself out of a plane?”

Peter’s voice carried through the barracks as he looked at you like you were the crazy one for once.

“Well...it was in the middle of crashing at the time.” You countered, much quieter by comparison and looking to Jean or Kurt for any help here. Some of you were sitting on the floor, others on the beds, roughly in a circle as you talked.

But Kurt only piped up to make it worse. “Yes, I did not like that at all. Next time we must find another way. I thought too that you’d chosen to go down with the plane so we could escape, (Y/N).”

“But you can fly right? None of us could fly.” Scott butted in a bit unexpectedly though, on your side of the argument no less.

“(Y/N) can levitate like me.” Jean corrected. “The flying is newer though, not yet perfected.” She smiled at you then in a way that told you she wasn’t about to let you back out of getting credit for that risk taken in Egypt. “You still hit the ground, hard.” She added. “I went back in your mind to make sure you’d made it after we teleported.”

The others all looked at you, and you tried not to lose your nerve. “My energy field was still up though when I hit. That’s the important part...”

“I mean I could jump off a building with a helmet on, I’m pretty sure it still wouldn’t work out for my head.” Peter retorted, though with a very self aware look before he finished. “And no, that’s not what’s wrong with me.”

Scott actually laughed at that, which surprised both you and Peter at least. Maybe he was different when alone with Jean, but in front of the group he’d stayed fairly no nonsense since Egypt. Though who could blame him for being a bit uptight after all he’d been through recently.

“We did all get pretty wrecked.” Peter admitted after a moment though. “Thanks for the save, Jean. Up top.” He held his hand up in front of her to signal for a high five.

She obliged, but a bit half heartedly. “I had the Professor in my head though, egging me on. He helped me unlock that. But I still couldn’t have done anything if you all hadn’t held that guy in place for that long for me. He just would have escaped.”

“I wonder what happened to the woman?” Kurt considered. “Do you think she learned her lesson too?”

“I doubt it,” Ororo answered then. “We called her Psylocke. But she just wanted to be more powerful. I don’t think she’d care now about who we hurt.” She looked at all of you at that. “I am sorry...if I hadn’t said well enough before. I thought he wanted to make the world better for us, but he didn’t. He really did just want to control everyone, human and mutant alike. I was wrong.”

Scott shrugged. “You figured it out by the time it really mattered.”

“And he probably just would have tried to kill you if you’d shown disloyalty any sooner than that,” You agreed.

“Can’t stay mad at anybody with a sick mohawk like that anyway.” Peter commented too, clearly admiring her hair.

Ororo chuckled. “If I’d known other mutants like you all before, things likely would have been a lot different.”

“Well you know us now.” Jean offered.

“Yes, I’m new here too,” Kurt added. “There’s a lot to learn. I’m glad Raven found me as well to bring me to the school. I never had mutant friends either in the circus.”

“Woah, wait. You were in a circus? Like the whole bit? Elephants and clowns and stuff?” Peter turned his head to look at him, curiosity easily peaked.

“Ja.” Kurt replied.

As those two went off into a separate conversation about whether or not there’d been bearded ladies, strong men, and the like in the Bavarian circus, you just looked back to Jean.

“We’ll definitely have a lot to catch up on when we get home. You think Jubilee is going to be mad that she missed all the action?” You asked, only half joking.

“Oh man,” Jean conceded. “She’ll be all over us wanting details.”

But her next words surprised you a little as her voice so easily transitioned just into your mind afterward for privacy, her lips no longer moving.

“You know as soon as she finds out you met someone, she’s going to go nuts wanting details about Peter.”

You could only look at her for a moment. It was such a strange thing to consider. This had all happened so fast. But with her bringing up that point, it was the first time you’d really thought about what it would be like to potentially introduce him to other friends of yours back home, to try and communicate what he meant to you already.

Could you call him your boyfriend? Would you say you were dating? He’d already called himself that label, but did that mean you could say it? Would the others even believe it was possible to feel these things for someone you’d only known such a short time? Would they think you were naive, or just caught up in the whirlwind of the moment and that this would all fade?

“Hey, relax. I wasn’t trying to send you into a tailspin.” Jean’s mental voice broke back through that wave of anxious thoughts. “I haven’t known Scott for very long either. If anyone wants to waste energy judging us, I would say that’s their problem.”

“Yeah,” You just answered then, remembering you still needed to respond in a way that made sense to the last thing she’d actually said out loud, about Jubilee. But you went quiet afterward, letting the others steer the conversation to new things as you all continued just trying to pass the time.

It wasn’t too very long later though when you’d had another visitor to the barracks. You were all a bit surprised to see Moira walk in, noticeably without the Professor and carrying something in her hands.

“Some new brass arrived today, or officials I mean. They wanted to speak to Charles themselves.” She said quickly, obviously realizing by your looks that you were all wondering the same thing of where he was. “But I wanted to come by and take care of this for the ones that needed pictures.”

As she spoke, she raised up the thing in her hands as if that should also be some clear explanation for her purpose here. It still took you a moment honestly to realize it for what it was, accompanied by what she’d said.

“For your licenses and passports that we’re printing.” She clarified anyway before continuing, the polaroid camera in her hands. “You two,” She pointed at you and Peter, and then at Raven. “And you. You already had valid driver’s licenses. We’ll reuse those photos for a new license and passport. Charles wanted everyone to have both, as you’ll still need to travel within the U.S. as well once we’re back. The rest of you I need current photos of.”

The thought of Peter actually taking the time to get a driver’s license seemed pretty absurd when he could travel anywhere much faster on foot, but before you could ask him anything, Hank was speaking up.

“But I already had a license and a passport,” Hank responded in some confusion.

Moira looked a little awkward, but still answered kindly. “But the pictures were of you before. It won’t match how you look right now for us to get back into the country.”

Raven snickered and Hank shot her an unamused look.

“Uh, but I can’t take off my glasses. You want me to take it with my eyes closed?” Scott asked dryly, though it was a legitimate question.

Belatedly you realized this also meant he’d been completely prepared to drive one of the Professor’s cars illegally then, before you’d asserted yourself to be the one to drive you all to the mall that day. This was a mental note you’d have to save for later.

“Glasses on is fine. We’ll note it as a medical exemption.” Moira answered easily, though already looking for a spot to have them stand against. “And this might actually be better to do in the hallway, if you could- Hey!” Her hands were abruptly empty, as she startled, then looking around.

You blinked after the flash that came almost simultaneously. A hand squeezed your shoulder before Peter pulled back away, the stolen camera in his other hand as the photo began to eject from it.

“I thought you couldn’t move like that with your leg,” Moira chided, now realizing what had happened. “And that thing isn’t mine to break, just so we’re clear.”

“You’re like three feet away, I don’t have to run if I can just lean over and grab it.” Peter responded smoothly, pulling the photo out before offering her back the camera. “So what, that thing is CIA issue? If I push the wrong button is it going to laser me or something?”

“No.” She huffed. But didn’t look as if she wished to extend the conversation any further to get drug into this right now. She just motioned for the others to follow her into the hall as she then turned away. “Come on, guys. We’ll try to make this quick.”

Peter didn’t seem to mind either way, just putting his attention back to the photo he was now holding as if it were a prize. “What do you think?” He asked you after a moment, the image becoming more and more visible as the film developed.

You saw yourself there, though surprisingly not a terrible image considering you hadn’t even been prepared. Your expression in the photo was simply neutral, glancing elsewhere even as Peter’s smile was wide and bright, him leaning in with his face almost touching yours in the photograph.

“I’ve taken worse,” you said truthfully, but then looked back to him, amused at his seeming satisfaction with it. You wondered if he was actually planning on keeping the photo, instead of it just being a little joke. Wouldn’t he rather a better one at least?

“What?” He questioned, seeing your expression. He flicked the photo gently. “It proves you’re real if anyone asks later.”

“Why would you have to prove...” But you ended up just smiling, and gave up before you even really started, seeing how happy he still looked. “If you want a picture together, I’m sure she’d let us take another if we asked. You know, if we asked nicely, and didn’t just steal her camera this time.”

“I like this one.” He insisted though, holding onto it regardless. “It really looks like you.”

“Um...wouldn’t I always look like me?” You asked quizzically.

“It’s real,” He tried to explain. “Natural? If we took another you’d just smile on purpose.”

You still didn’t fully understand. He was smiling in the picture after all. But to his point maybe, he did look almost giddy in the photo. Not something you would be able to replicate on command. “Okay.” You said, fine either way. “If you like that best.”

“There is something I think I’m going to ask Moira anyway though when she comes back,” He admitted.

It wasn’t very long either until you were able to find out what that was.

When the others did start to file back in after taking their pictures in the hallway, Moira had just leaned in the doorway briefly to thank them. “We’ll have these made up in time for tomorrow for your travel documents, thank you.”

She was already turning to leave again before Peter stopped her.

He cocked his head, piping up. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

She did pause, but her look back at him was slightly wary. Likely not knowing if this would be more humor or not. “Yes?”

He didn’t mess around though this time, just getting to the point outright. “Do you think you could send somebody to my Mom’s house? You know, just to say everything’s cool and I’ll be home soon? She’s probably losing her mind right now.”

Moira’s expression changed fully at that, empathy going to the forefront. “Of course. Yes. What’s her name? Her address?”

That mood faded just as quickly though as he raised his eyebrows, teasing. “Well shouldn’t the CIA know that?”

She sighed. Staring at him as the annoyed look returned.

“You’re so serious,” Peter smirked. “Magda Maximoff, suburbs outside D.C.” He rattled off a street address afterward, but still continued, “We’re in the phonebook anyway. Prof.’s been there too, he’d know.”

“We’ll look it up.” She agreed. “See you guys later.”

With that she was gone. The rest of you settled back, just sitting and talking again. And you’d gone off with Peter down by your beds after a while. Just the two of you again.

You’d realized obviously before now by their interactions that the Professor had met Peter at some point previous to his coming to the mansion the other day. But like so many things, in the rush of everything, you hadn’t learned much more.

“So Xavier’s been to your house. Was he trying to recruit you for the school?” You asked, honestly just curious. Though it was a little disappointing to consider you may have had a chance to meet Peter much sooner if he’d accepted any kind of invitation like that then.

You had been sitting on the bottom bunk together again, but he leaned back behind you now, stretching before putting his arms behind his head. He pulled his legs and cast awkwardly back up into the bed as you shifted to try and let him get how he wanted.

He looked pretty content though as he lowered an arm back to put it across your lap. “Well that was years ago. He had hair, he was walking. He didn’t want me for your little private school though. He just wanted me to help them spring my dad from the Pentagon...but I don’t think he knew it was my dad either then. It was all Logan’s plan to bring me. Really I didn’t find out much else. These dudes just showed up at my house, and I went with them to commit a felony.” He shrugged a little. “Probably not that smart, right? But I didn’t have anything else cool to do that day I guess.”

You wondered how much of that story Xavier would really tell you if you asked one day. You could only imagine what reasoning someone like the Professor would have to do something so brazen, even if it was to help Erik. Especially when Xavier had always preached to you all the importance of staying within the law and not using your powers to exploit any rules that would apply to non mutants. For now, you only asked a little bit more though. “How many people actually came to your house to do that then?”

“Oh, it was just three. Prof., Hank, and Logan.”

Well that made it even more interesting really. Hank was also so well known for always following the rules. But then again, he also was one of Xavier’s longest friends, like Raven and Erik. They’d all known each other since many years ago.

But this was the second time Peter had said this name of ‘Logan’. Shouldn’t you know that name? Well yes, you knew at least one. You couldn’t forget the name Jean had told you back in Stryker’s base. The man who’d gone on a rampage, though also cutting you violently from your own restraints before he’d escaped. Honestly you might even have scars from that when this was all said and done. But the name in and of itself wasn’t that unusual of a name. And what Peter was talking about apparently occurred years ago.

“I don’t think I know a Logan,” You said honestly. “Was he a mutant too?”

“Oh hell yeah,” Peter answered, raising up a closed fist. He made a noise, and a motion you didn’t understand as if he was doing something in midair with his fist, before adding. “Three big claws come shooting out this dude’s hand. It was so gross, but badass.”

You stared, the realization finally hitting hard. It couldn’t be a coincidence then. “Peter!” You exclaimed abruptly. There was just no way they were two different people. It was too unique of a mutation. “That’s the guy!”

“Huh?” He looked up at you in surprise. Confused at your sudden excitement.

“The one from the base! Didn’t Jean tell you?” Without thought, you lifted your shirt enough to show him those long claw marks still red across your stomach. They were dry now, already trying to heal. But it was three in a row, still clear as day. “The guy that tore through all those soldiers and freed me, she told me that his name was Logan.”

“She didn’t tell me that.” Peter stammered slightly, definitely caught off guard as you’d raised your shirt. “She just said to expect you to be bloody when I went looking for you.” He was staring at your exposed skin now though. “So Logan did that?”

You tensed slightly as you felt his fingertips graze your abdomen. It wasn’t unpleasant, just a bit unexpected. You lowered your shirt back down, but noticed obviously when he just let his hand stay under it.

When you didn’t show further aversion to the touch though, his hand continued idly wandering on the skin that was unbroken. “Well damn, that’s super screwed up then. I know they said a guy went full rage mode and tore the place up. And yeah, I saw the bodies he left when I went looking for you. But they didn’t say his name. I didn’t see him either before he took off.”

“It has to be the same person.” You reiterated. “But if you really want to be sure, you can always think of those memories of him, the Logan that you knew. If you let Jean look into your thoughts later, she could tell you for certain if it was him.

Peter looked a little disconcerted, but just agreed anyway. “Yeah, sure. I just, man how long did they have him there then? What a dick that Stryker guy was. Fuck him.”

But after the little bit of anger, he was only looking back at you. That thought of Stryker seeming to also remind him of your initial meeting with him. “How’s your ribs?”

You felt his fingers trail up across them at the question. “Sore,” You admitted. “But what isn’t?”

His voice was quieter then though, his hand moving back down before it reached your chest. “Then don’t jump out of any more planes please.”

You paused, wondering if he really was so bothered about that to have brought it up again. You’d all played so fast and loose that day though, doing whatever you felt you had to do. “It was a big day of firsts that’s for sure.”

“No kidding.” He agreed.

And nothing was ever going to be the same again was it? Even when you were all home again and the mansion was finally rebuilt. Were you all just going to go back to class like you hadn’t almost died? Would you just pretend that you didn’t know there were still entities out there that wanted you dissected, destroyed, or both?

“I think it gave the Professor a lot to think about too.” Is what you finally said. “I feel like he’s going to change some things going forward. But I don’t know how much yet. I don’t know if this could really mean the resurrection of the X-Men.” It was a crazy thought. Xavier and Hank never really liked to talk about that part of their past. They’d lost a lot then, or at least that’s always what you’d inferred from the bits and pieces you had heard over the years.

“X-Men...” Peter repeated, making a face like he wasn’t sure if it was a decent name or not. “Guess it’d still be better than being called Charlie X’s Angels or something like that.”

You smirked. “You know they used to all have codenames too.” Though you were sure not all of them were self named. “Xavier was just Professor X, Hank was Beast, Raven was Mystique, Scott’s brother Alex was Havok, your dad was Magneto of course. But there was Banshee, Darwin, and Tempest as well.”

He gave you a contemplative look. “Can I call you Lite-Brite then?”

Your look must have clearly said no, but he just kept going, very amused at your reaction.

“Glo-Worm?” He offered instead.

“Seriously? You’d name me after a bug?”

“Nah, they’ve got these super cute toy ones. Wanda had one. She slept with that thing all the time. They glow when you hug them.” He was grinning again now. “I mean, you’re comforting too right? Think I could make you glow?”

“I don’t think it works that way.” But honestly you might be lying to save face as he was now rubbing his hand further up into your shirt again.

“Don’t we all lose a little control when we get excited?” He countered, his tone getting a little more dangerous. “I know I do.”

You felt that statement was likely a bit of a trap, hesitating as your curiosity swelled. What could happen with his powers if he did have an uncontrolled moment like that? He was likely right though. Just like the onset of mutant powers came for most of you around the same time as puberty, they could also be triggered by intense emotions or stress. So it was reasonable to think that another powerful feeling such as arousal could also lead to some issues for those of you already less experienced in controlling yourselves.

“Brings a whole new meaning to safe sex doesn’t it?” He said as he let go of you then, putting his hands back behind his head. He still looked too amused, even though he seemed to sense when you needed another break from the touching to process your own thoughts.

“Did that happen with her?” You asked though. Not afraid, but yes, maybe some concern in your expression. You really hadn’t considered any of this before.

His smile faded at the unexpected mention of Crystal again. But he only hesitated a little, looking at you as he answered honestly. “Sometimes. She uh, burnt me a couple times. In the literal sense. She was like the band, Earth, Wind, and Fire. I mean she could control water too, but I liked the band joke better.” He frowned slightly. “She always hated that joke though.”

“Did you do anything to her?” You responded quietly before you could think better of it. Was this really any of your business? No, not really. But, it could be a part of your future.

There was a little surprise in his eyes, but his answer was immediate. “Babe, I’m the last person you’d ever have to be afraid of.” He looked bothered still as he continued though. “And no, I never hurt her. She would have knocked me into next week if I had.”

“So what does happen if you lose control that way?” You still asked, deciding you still did want to know.

He gave you an awkward look. But if he was going to offer out this information, it seemed there was going to at least be a small price for it. “If I’m really riled up? Turned on? You can say it outright you know.”

You weren’t going to say it in any more explicit way than that though, but you nodded at least. “Yes, you know what I mean.”

He sighed at your modesty, but reached out his hand after a moment. “Let me see your wrist then. Way easier just to show you.”

Well, if it was anything dangerous, he wouldn’t be so casual about it would he? You did offer him your wrist, not knowing what to expect as he clasped his hand around it.

You could tell he was focusing on something for just a moment, before the oddest sensation you’d ever felt shot from your wrist, down into your fingertips, and all the way up into your shoulder before you jerked your hand back in surprise.

Your reaction didn’t seem to faze him at all though as he’d easily let you go. It looked like you’d only done exactly as he expected. “You’ll still feel it for a bit after, just so you know.”

And you could still feel it, fading but definitely there as you flexed your fingers. “What did you do?” It wasn’t painful, but it was like a tingling, instantaneous whenever he’d done it. Not just through the skin, but into the bone, the muscle, everything. The only thing you could liken it to at all is when a limb woke up from being asleep, yet it wasn’t as uncomfortable as that and it was far deeper.

“Well you asked what happens if I get too excited. I, uh, vibrate?” He tried to call it something without really knowing what to call it. “I’m no science guy, but I’d guess it moves everything I’m touching down to what, the atoms right? So that’s what you’d feel. But it wouldn’t just be from my hand. I was doing it on purpose there. If it wasn’t on purpose it’d be literally all of me doing it.”

So that would mean, well...that would be a very intense sensation to say the least if you would happen to be having skin to skin contact in more places than one when he would accidentally do that. You tried not to let your expression change much at the realization. The last thing you wanted to do was to throw this very personal dialog further down into the gutter.

“I still think you’d glow though.” He added confidently. “And if your energy deal is always as warm as it was in that elevator shaft back at the base, I think it’d feel really good too. Just for the record.”

Yes, this was definitely teetering on that edge of going fully into a place you weren’t ready for just yet. But you only had yourself to blame. You asked him to elaborate, and he did. You knew your powers could be a lot more than harmless though. Much more than warmth. You didn’t know if it’d be too pessimistic to mention that right now though.

“I don’t know what I would do.” You finally said, just speaking the truth when you didn’t know what else to say.

“We can talk about something else you know if you want.” He poked you gently in the arm, seemingly offering you an escape route if you wished to take it. “Like we’re still going to the mall at some point right?”

“Definitely.” You answered gladly.

“You should come over too, play some video games when we get back. I’ve got an Atari and a Nintendo. Or we could watch a movie. You like Bruce Lee? Karate Kid? Stuff like that?”

The genuine eagerness emerging in his tone was something you really appreciated. A reminder that in reality, even though he evidently enjoyed any physical contact he was allowed to have with you, it was only a part of the whole picture. He just wanted to be around you too.

“Yes, I think that’d be awesome. I haven’t seen many of those movies, but usually Jubilee picks for movie night. Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles...over and over.”

He laughed. “Oh, no way. There’s more to life than Molly Ringwald. Time to expand your horizons!”

You were smiling too, about to say something back when Scott’s voice carried from further down the barracks.

“Hey, they brought dinner if either of you want to eat!”

“But is it even worth a crap!?” Peter called back immediately and just as loudly.

“Heck if I know!” Scott answered and you could swear you heard a lot less loud Jean tell him to quit yelling in her ear.

“I’m still salty about that fake strawberry garbage from earlier.” Peter said, just to you then as he sat back up.

It wasn’t much of a surprise to you though that the food would be brought to you all this time, considering the episode in the mess hall before. The only thing that did surprise you was that it would already be dinner time. Though it was hard to have much concept of time right now really, especially when there were no windows to see the sun or sky below deck.

But it did give it more of that prison feel too. The hours running together, locked away in close quarters, and now with government mandated food being dropped off impersonally. It either felt like prison or being in a rare species exhibit at the zoo.

“Well, you said you’re like a hummingbird metabolism wise, right? You have to eat something.” You spoke, while hanging back to give Peter a chance to get up on his crutches.

Really the hummingbird analogy you were liking more and more though as you personally thought they were adorable, and they literally were the bird equivalent to him in your opinion. This flamboyant little bird that beat its wings so fast it could actually hover in place or disappear in a blur once they did decide to take off. Not to mention the exclusive high sugar diet.

“Glo-Worm,” Was all he replied back, but very pleased when it still got a strong reaction from you.

“Please don’t make that one stick. It’s a lot less cute than Hummingbird.”

But he just offered a non-committal smile, walking past you. “We’ll see.”

——————————

Some few hours later, when it was time for lights out again, Peter had wanted to take a shower so you were already in the bottom bunk alone.

You tried to stay awake to wait for him, but you must have already been asleep for how bad you startled when you felt something pressing down against the mattress beside you.

And when you shot up, you were even more confused at the sudden pressure against the top of your head before you finally woke up enough to realize Peter now had his hand splayed there, pushing your head back a little.

“Woah,” He whispered in the dark. “You about nailed the top of the bunk. It’s just me.”

You relaxed, trying to look at him before you felt him let go, laying down beside you. As you laid down as well, he shifted several times, trying to get comfortable.

“I hate this damn cast.” He complained. “Do you know how weird it is to have to shower with a garbage bag tied around your leg?”

You could feel his still wet hair though on the pillow as he nuzzled in closer with you. You’d both joked a little earlier about looking forward to getting to share this bed one more time tonight before heading back to the U.S. and your sort of more normal lives tomorrow. The emphasis of the joking though had been about getting to continue the kissing that had been interrupted on the flight deck.

But now that you were here, you found you really just wanted to hold him and enjoy the warmth and quiet together. Because you didn’t know when this chance would come again. Would you go your separate ways tomorrow? You back to New York and wherever the other displaced students were now staying, and him back to D.C. to reunite with his mother? He wouldn’t be able to run and come to find you again until his cast was off. And how many weeks would that take, even with mutant healing factors?

You didn’t really know what the exact plan was after you’d arrive in the U.S. either, but maybe there was something you could do after all. “Hey.” You said quietly after a bit, hoping he was still awake.

“Mmm?” He made a questioning noise, hugging a bit tighter to you.

You took it as enough response to say that he was listening. “So they said that we’re landing in New Jersey tomorrow, right? Well everyone else is going to want to go north to get back to Salem Center, New York.” You didn’t really need to clarify where the school had been though, he’d obviously already found it. “But you’ll need to go south to get back to D.C., and it’s not like Xavier is going to expect you to find your own way home. Someone’s going to have to drive you and-”

But Peter didn’t even let you finish, already very on board with the idea. “And we give Prof. the old puppy eyes and beg for it to be you.” You knew he was grinning again then just by his tone. “I like it. Road trip.”

You felt relief that he approved of your spur of the moment plan, but then again he’d already said he wanted you to come over to his house sometime. You wouldn’t be able to stay very long you were sure, but at least you’d get the car ride together if this all worked out. And you’d get to see where he lived, maybe even hang out for a little while before having to drive back to New York.

It was funny how just like that you now had something to look forward to again. But would Xavier really be on board? Would he feel comfortable letting you drive back alone? You’d just have to convince him that you were old enough now and capable.

“I guess I should have cleaned my room a little better before I left.” Peter mused. “Can be a bit of a train wreck, just like the dude that lives in it.”

“Oh, someone else lives there too?” You teased slightly.

But Peter only played along. “Yeah, a real piece of work. Guy just plays video games all day, and wears out the same shitty records playing them over and over with the volume up. Maybe reads some comic books or jets off to nab some Twinkies from the convenience store down the block. Real outstanding citizen. I heard he’s dating now though. Who the hell would want that charity project?”

“Hmm.” You knew he was only half joking, Peter really still seeing himself in the way he just described to a large degree. But you were patient, and determined to keep working on building his self confidence little by little. “I think if he met someone then, it’d be someone who believes in the old ‘diamond in the rough’ expression. They must really just like him for him. They probably even see his real value even when he can’t yet.”

Peter was quiet for a few moments at that before you felt him run a hand through your hair. “I guess that would make him really lucky then. He probably should bust his ass to make sure he doesn’t disappoint them then and screw that one up.”

You smiled softly. “All he has to do is be himself. If you have to fight too hard just to maintain a relationship, it likely was never right to begin with.”

“Been there, done that.” He at least agreed, but was now running his fingers down along your face.

You knew what he was hoping for and leaned in to meet him as you kissed. It was very soft though, like he was still thinking of what you’d said. He didn’t press for much more either, just a few more kisses before he nuzzled his face back down against you.

“I’m still going to do the best I can.” He spoke quietly against your neck. “I want you to be happy.”

“I am.” You said. Feeling every bit of those words as you stayed warm against one another. It felt safe. It felt right.

And no one said anything else. You were both content to leave it that way, falling asleep just as you were.

———————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

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