#“i love you guys so i don’t feel lonely right now” shoots myself

[glowingsand]

shot myself like three or four times while reading the official translated chapter…..you guys i think it’s officially gojover there’s no hope left in this room

[wishing-on-a-staranise]

Ch 2: The teenage hobby of making out.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

from the river to the sea. (get in your daily clicks, read about it, donate if you can.)

Summary: Hopper’s getting mad that his kids are kissing boys.

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: use of (y/n); no pronouns used (gn!reader); Suggestive (sexy ice cream consumption); steamy but no smut; boner alert; hopper being a cockblock; arguing; reader is jealous of Eleven; hopper makes a 'your wife' joke (its canon); daddy issues?

A/n: this is the closest i think ive gotten to writing smut so far lol i struggled so much

Anyway ive been having the big bad no good awful time lately and feel like doing literally nothing but i really pushed myself to finish this guy so have this and also I think it's high time we get readyyy for desi!reader!!!! She will be arriving soon hopefully!!!

masterlist

...

‘You don’t tug on superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind.’

Hopper’s record player blares. Your eyes fling open at the intruding loud tone of at this point what you know to be Jim’s favourite song.

‘You don’t pull the mask off an old lone ranger and you don’t mess around with Jim.’ The faceless crowd chants through the speakers. Quite swell headed of himself when you really think about it. 

Your face scrunches, a yawn leaves you when you stretch under the quilt. The sheets beside you ruffle, and when you turn it is your sister, rousing from her sleep as well, Mr. Arnold, the teddy bear, in her arms. She lets out a frustrated groan at the loud song, before pulling her blanket over her head. 

You snort at that because you’re sure it's impossible to fall asleep with that playing right outside the room. This is not the first time that Jim has used this really effective strategy to annoy you and your sister out of your slumber.

You lay there for a second before finally getting up to get started with the morning, knowing full well Hopper won’t be quietening it down unless both of you were out of bed and having breakfast. It also isn't like you had neighbours to complain about the noise.

By the time you come out of the bathroom, Eleven is once again stirring awake. She stretches both her arms above her head again and lets out a deep sigh.

"Morning, El.”

She mumbles something that sounds like ‘morning’, her tone a lot less peppy than yours. she once again decides she wants to be back asleep, rolling over and burying herself in the sheets again. “I think… I hate that song now”, you hear her grumble under the mass of the comforter.

“Yeah, that happens when you are forced to listen to something a billion times. What's weird is he does have other records but he really loves the song with his name in it”, you laugh both at your sister’s and Hopper’s antics.

You sit back on the bed with an ‘oof’, looking at where she lies beside you. “Okay, kid, let's get outta bed”, you say knowing full well that the noise isn't going to stop unless you both step out of the room. “c’mon El”, you sigh, shaking her a little by her shoulders. "Don't you have to go meet Dustin today?"

El’s eyes shoot open, she looks up at you with wide eyes as if she'd forgotten about her plans. She throws the blanket and the soft toy off of her and jogs away to her room.

You chuckle to yourself at her excitement, reaching under the quilt to look for Mr. Arnold. You pull him out, brushing the messy fur around his beady eyes before putting him neatly with the rest of the pillows and get out of the room yourself.

You head out into the kitchen, the smell of roasted coffee hitting you immediately. Jim has always been notorious for having his coffee extra strong, no cream, no sugar. you remember trying it once and pledged to never do that again, not being accustomed to that taste. 

There's a box of cereal on the kitchen counter, you fix yourself a bowl and put some in another bowl for Eleven. You then head to the couch where Hopper is reading a newspaper and sipping the bitter and brown beverage, "morning" you say quietly— shouting was not needed since he had turned the player off when he noticed both you and Eleven were awake. 

"Morning kid", he greeted from behind the newspaper, not really bothering to look up.

"You have to find a better way to wake us up."

He chuckles to himself, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" he jostles the flimsy paper.

You roll your eyes which he doesn’t notice. That’s the usual with him. He doesn’t ever seem to notice you. And for the most part, you’re used to it. Somewhere between adopting you and now, things changed. Not to be mistaken, he is the closest thing you have to a father and you know he does love you but some part of this relationship feels… hollow now. Like you’re not getting enough, he’s not willing to give you enough. 

In silence, you swirl your spoon around in the floating cereal while Hopper takes a big sip of his coffee. You think to finally tell him about Steve.

Just when you were contemplating when to speak up about it, Eleven comes out of her room, still wearing the same clothes, "Morning Hop", she greets brightly.

He looks up, "Morning kiddo", he smiles before his gaze moves back to his newspaper.

“There's a bowl for you on the kitchen counter”, you let the girl know. She smiles and pours herself some milk into it.

"Hey, Hop?", The super powered girl calls out. He hums through a mouthful of soggy cereal as he looks up from the newspaper. "Can you take me to Will's?” she says while walking over to the couch where he was sitting, "Dustin is coming back today. We're surprising him"

"Oh, okay kid. We'll just leave in a bit", he sets down the papers and downs all of the cereal. He goes into his room. By the time you and Eleven are done with your breakfast, Hopper comes out, clad in his uniform. 

"Hey y/n any groceries you want me to get? Going to the Market today", he asked while putting his shoes on.

"Yeah, it's on the fridge"

The man went over to the fridge door and took the list off of it. He took a second to read the contents of the list before muttering out the last one, "icecream, again?"

"I like ice cream. We ran out", you shrugged.

"I bought a tub this sunday."

“I really like ice cream”

“seriously? this is getting more ridiculous than El’s eggo obsession–”

“hey!” she interjects. 

“and weren’t you expanding your horizons? How’d that combo work out last night?” He looks between you and Eleven.

"It was…", she pauses, looking for a suitable word, "disgusting.” she says with the straightest face before going to her room to get changed and to put on her shoes, you assume.

“I… can't say that I disagree”

“Look kid, I'm not getting you ice cream so often, okay? Anything else?"

“...Nope that's… that’s it. Just the list.”

“‘Kay,” he shoves the paper in the pocket of his shirt. He glances over at the room that Eleven is in before clearing his throat. “Hey, do you uh…”, he looks back you, voice softer than it was just a second ago, “wanna talk about it?”

“About..?” 

“That nightmare I’m assuming you had last night.”

“... there's– there isn't anything to talk about”

“Yes there is”, he barely gets the words out of his mouth when you sigh, frustrated before getting off the couch and moving towards the kitchen. 

“C’mon kid,”, he follows behind you, “you haven't been telling me anything recently, and Owens told me–”, you groan at the name, “don't interrupt me– Owens told me that you refuse to share anything with him either.”

“I don't tell anything because there is nothing to tell. And honestly,” you put your bowl in the sink, “I don't want to talk about stupid feelings with a stupid old man”

“You think I haven't been hearing you scuttering ‘round in your room trying to fall asleep? So don't bullshit me but there is a lot to tell. He recommended these weekly check ups because they will help. I mean– look at El, she barely struggles with the night terrors or–”

“You just have to compare me to her, don’t you?”

“Owens will call saturday and you better tell him everything”, he commands with his nostrils flared.

You roll your eyes away from him, crossing your arms.

“Do you hear me? Hey! look at me when I’m talking to you”, he uses that stern voice again, the one that means ‘you better listen or else’. You aren’t sure what the ‘or else’ ever is yet you always listen when he uses that voice. You look at him, reluctantly so, “Good. now… I'm getting late. Why don't you get rid of that attitude and stop being such a brat" he shoves his wallet in his back pocket, calling out Eleven's name and she comes out wearing a navy-blue t-shirt that seemed a little too big for her, and she casts you a concerned look.

You let out a frustrated huff as soon as the door shuts close behind them. You run your fingers over your face, your head hurting again after that argument.

You then head to put the rest of the bowls in the sink and the milk in the fridge, but that's when you notice it. The Eleven's drawing— of you, Hopper and herself— that was initially stuck to the fridge door with a magnet, was now on the floor— along with the other magnets. You tried to put them back on nevertheless they fell again. You were frustrated as it is, it only made you angrier when they didn't stick. In your rage you shove them in the nearest drawer, it closes with a loud thud.

You weren't sure how this entire thing had managed to get you so mad. You wanted to rip your hair out, break all the bowls, burn the stupid phone so Owens never calls, shatter hopper's favourite coffee mug, tear apart every drawing Eleven has made of you all together. But you don't. You just stand there, trying your best to keep it at bay– the anger, the tears, both. And god, you needed to catch your breath, you needed some water.

You grab a glass of water from the tap. As it fills, you latch open the window above the sink. The window and the glass of water had become a part of your routine to calm yourself down. A compulsion at this point because if you didn't do it, everything felt off.

You guzzle down the thing, the liquid cooling you. You force yourself to close your eyes, breathing in, holding it and then breathing out– just like Hopper had taught you. Although it brings down your anger, it doesn't exactly calm you down. You blame it on the lack of wind today.

You don't keep your eyes closed for too long though. You close the window and head to your room. You don't bother with anything else, planning on hiding under the sheets for the rest of the day. It is then that you hear a knock on your bedroom window.

You look up from the mess of wrinkled sheets and you are met with the beautiful smile of your boyfriend. He gives you a little wave with a bouquet of flowers and holds up a takeaway cup from scoops ahoy. A smile automatically forms itself on your face as you walk over to the window and open it so he could climb in.

He lets himself in in a rather not ninja way, your hands flying to steady him. you take in his clothes– his scoops ahoy outfit, the colours suit him, his favourite watch snug around his wrist, the shorts fitting him perfectly, his floppy hair resting softly against his forehead— he looks beautiful to say the least. 

"Morning your highness!", He spoke up with a rich English accent– gesturing wildly with the bouquet, "Flowers picked by yours truly! Ice cream scooped, once again, by your beloved", he handed you the flowers— which you held close to your chest while showcasing a huge grin. "And guess what? New flavour! You have to try it, babe."

You adjust the crooked name tag on his shirt, "I was just leaving for work but decided to take a little detour. Hope you don't mind me coming."

"Of course I don't— it's just, if you came like two minutes earlier, Hop would've caught you."

"Close call", he wipes the imaginary sweat off of his temple, making you giggle a little.

"You look very pretty," you say before you even realise.

"I'm supposed to be a manly man! you calling me pretty and beautiful isn't helping with that", he complains only half-heartedly because he loves hearing you call him those things. No one has ever complimented him in such a way, sure he has gotten compliments about his hair or his nether regions from girls but you telling him he's pretty and cute made butterflies flutter all over in a way he didn't think was possible.

"Well, that's too bad. You are pretty", he blushes all pink when you say it, "The prettiest ever", he smiled shyly as you came closer to him— faces merely inches apart.

"Not too shabby yourself babe", he pecked the tip of your nose and then you go to put the flowers in a vase next to your bed.

“How did last night go?” he asks, following behind you.

“Hmm?”

“You were... going to tell your dad about us?”

“Oh.”

He purses his lips, “I'm guessing you didn't”

“I wanted to, I swear but then Mike Wheeler happened."

“‘Course he did”

“And then I almost did this morning too but then Jim and I had a fight, like right now..”

“Fight, about what?”

You quickly shake your head, “.. doesn't matter. I’m sorry”

“Hey, its okay. How ‘bout this okay, you.. try again. okay? whenever feels right-- no rush" you nod slowly. the boy flashes you a grin before speaking up again, "now, gimme a little kiss"

"No."

"No? why no?" he pouts.

"’Cause I want to have ice cream first", you declare, booping his nose.

He lets out a playful scoff, “is that all I am to you? I stole this just for you yesterday and I don’t even get a kiss?" he is all theatrical as he holds is palm on his chest to show just how scandalized he feels.

“Stole it?”

“Nah", he clicks his tongue as a no, shaking his head, "we get free ice cream.”

Your brows fly up at the information, “Woah, really? hmm, I need to work there.”

“Will you? Please do. My coworker pretty much hates me–”

While he is rambling, you try to snatch the cup from his hand, but before you could do so he pulls his hand away. "Ah ah ah, you gotta give me the password first to get the ice cream babe"

"What?" you ask, brows knotted together.

"Not the password", He says in a monotonous voice.

"Steve c'mon–"

"Not the password."

"Just give it to me, Steve", you try reaching for it again– to no avail.

"Not the password."

"Stevieee", you're practically draped over him, yet he somehow manages to keep the cup right out of your reach.

"Not the password", he smirks, laughing a little.

You sigh, you had to play it his way to get what you want. You give a quick kiss on his cheek– more so a peck. "Hm, warmer...", he hums, "but still not the password."

You groan all frustrated, knowing full well what he wanted. and you had no other choice than to give in. You tilt your face so your lips meet his and when you pull back, awaiting his response. He finally says, "You got it", before lowering his hand.

Steve then goes into character– sitting you down on the edge of your bed, he takes out his hat from his pocket that said 'ahoy' on it and puts it on top of your head.

He greets you how he would welcome any other customer, you giggle at his theatrical antics. "Now, since you are one rather good looking sailor, I'll let you set sail on this ocean of flavor with me with this amazing scoop of our new invention!!'

The treat is a little melted— blame it on the summer heat. tasting phenomenal, surely to be your new favourite. As Steve watches you relish the delicious flavour, he notices that the runny liquidy ice cream has managed to drip around the corner of your mouth and lower lip.

"Oh babe, you've got a–" His thumb swipes over your lower lip— eye contact unbreaking— Smearing the liquid much more than actually wiping it. He does it unreasonably slow.

"There", he pulls his arm back, and without looking at the residual ice cream on his thumb he licks it– gaze still unwavering. "Delicious", he murmured. Heat creeps up your neck and spreads through your cheeks. You both knew what Steve was doing although you'd be lying if you said that it wasn't working.

Having expected for you to be absolutely flustered, Steve is surprised when instead your features morph into a mischievous smile, "right? You wanna try some?"

"Uh, sure", he hesitates.

You go to feed him the drippy ice cream with the spoon only to 'accidentally' smudge it at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, you've got a—"

"Oh, very funny babe—" Before Steve could finish, your lips were attached to the corner of his mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick at the liquid— the movements agonisingly slow. It is then that Steve forgets how to function. He doesn't reciprocate your kisses, being sure he'd forgotten how to kiss. This was the first time you'd initiated a kiss, or made a move on him and now he didn't know how to react. 

When you pull away, his eyes remain closed for a bit longer. But when they finally do flutter open, instead of the same mischievous sly smirk, he is met with your wide eyes. You blink as if unsure of what you had done, Steve sees you gulp before you get up and leave the room.

Steve was stuck, he realises. His mind has forgotten how to work for however long that lasted. Maybe it was minutes or maybe it was only just a few seconds– to him it felt like hours though. Blood rushed to his cheeks and other parts of his body.

He paid it no mind though and quickly got up to find you. His situation will go away, right now he needed to make sure that you were alright. He went out of the room and sees you by the kitchen— throwing away the empty cup— your back turned towards him.

You don't look up when he stands beside you, he calls out your name and you shyly turn to sneak a look at him, rubbing your own arm anxiously, “S– sorry that was weird right?”

“Uh– n– no! It wasn't", he assures, shaking his head, "It just… um, I wasn't expecting it. It was– It wasn't weird.” he waits, hoping you'd say something but when you don't, he speaks up, "That was like the– the hottest thing ever– what you did back there."

“It wasn't... too much? It felt like it was too much.”

“Too much? I have a boner right now, respectfully, of course.”

Your eyes widen, and just when they were about to trail down– “don't look down!” You hold your breath, trying your best to muster all your power to maintain eye contact with him, but your gaze betrays you for just a second as it snaps down to his groin before jumping back to his eyes. Your face becomes so warm, palms clammy.

“W-what do I do?”

“No–nothing? It’ll go away”, he barely manages to stammer out, turning his body towards the kitchen counter so you don't see it, eyes roaming everywhere but towards you. 

Steve in high school never would have faced such issues, king steve never would have been so clumsy and embarrassed in front of someone he liked. The old Steve wouldn't get this damn red and awkward. But he does, he isn't the old Steve afterall.

He feels your hand on his shoulder, urging him to look your way. When he does, his eyes meet your unsure gaze-- you were looking at his lips. He himself can't help but trace the contour of your face, from your eyes to your nose, to the swoop of your cupid's bow to finally your lips.

It is you who leans in. This kiss was different than any you have had before. It grows deeper. And suddenly, its all tongue and teeth. Steve has never kissed you like this before. Its hands over your body, fingers creeping under your t-shirt. And its unusual. A good unusual. One you could get used to.

“Steve?" you breathe out when you pull apart.

“Y– yeah?”

“I’m sure. What I said yesterday, I’m sure.”

“Wait– you’re not just saying that ‘cause I–’

“No. I– I mean it.” You let out a giggle. The giggle which he was sure could end and fix all his fears and nightmares. The giggle that made his heart flutter and stomach do summersaults. You were sure to be the death of him. 

His grip around your waist tightens as he rests his forehead against yours, warm noses touching. "When.. uh– when does Hopper come back?"

"5:30," you huffed out, once again leaning in and he once again pulled back to be just out of your reach.

"One last question, El isn't home, is she?"

"No, no. She– she's with– friends. Won't come back till four."

"Good, wouldn't want them to come in on this", he almost growls before latching your lips together. And then you're kissing him. It is messy, but he loves every single second of it. His hands go to hold your jaw and yours to his cheeks, pulling in closer– deepening the kiss. At this point you'd both forgotten to breathe, too intoxicated on each other. But soon, both your lungs start to burn off the lack of oxygen and you both pull apart.

Your breaths were jagged, foreheads still touching. You gasp into his mouth. Your lips move in tandem as Steve pushes you between himself and the counter. The edge of the counter digs into your thighs. His hands travel to right below your ass, ready to lift you up onto the counter. But before he could do so, you pull him by the collar of his sailor outfit towards your room— lips never stopping contact. Steve takes the hint and gently pushes you against the door of your room, fumbling for the door knob.

You grab a fistful of his hair, he lets out a moan into your mouth. He finally manages to open the door, and you immediately pull him in. Steve tries to steady you both while tightening his hold on your hips, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. 

You pull him towards the bed. He finally pulls away to take off his shirt only to latch his lips back to yours. He is hovering over you, lips never not touching, hands roaming each other's bodies. You slightly pull away, your digits fumbling for the cassette player's buttons next to your bed. The button clicks and Asia’s ‘heat of the moment’ starts playing. The both of you laugh because it was the mixtape that you and Steve had made a couple months ago.

…

Hopper had just reached the Byer's when he realises that he had forgotten his hat in the heat of the argument with you. He frowns upon the thought of the argument, he regrets shouting, he was worried about you and maybe he shouldn't have gotten that mad.

He waves over at Eleven, watching behind her to make sure she gets inside. He starts the engine and heads back to the cabin to retrieve his hat and perhaps make amends with you.

When he gets there, you don't open the door. You were possibly still mad at him, he thinks when he lets himself in, he could hear the song blaring from your room. He takes a peek in through the cracked open door.

Through the few inch wide door gap, he sees you and Steve Harrington. A shirtless Steve Harrington on top of you. The boy kissing you. And you kissing him back.

Through the kisses, his lips trail along your jaw and down your throat landing on your collarbone— pulling a moan out of you. "God, you're– fuck", Hopper barely hears the boy mumble. The man's nostrils flare as he sees his hands go back to the little sliver of skin exposed between your shirt and your shorts, fingers playing with the hem of the shirt.

"HEY!"

Steve immediately pulls away and yelps when you accidentally yank his hair. You both look up towards the source of the sound and there stood Jim Hopper, eyes wide with seething anger. 

“HOPPER?--”

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Hopper", You yelp out, speedily turning the player off while Steve fumbles to hide his integrity behind a pillow. Both Steve and Hopper were bright red. You were sure to go deaf to the loud beating of your heart.

"What in the fuck are you doing with my kid, Harrington?", You were sure Hopper's face would burst into flames any second now.

Steve eyes bounce frantically between you and hopper, he stammers, "I— Hopper—"

"That's fucking sir to you, Harrington."

"Sir, I—"

You hold your hands up, hoping to calm Hopper down after he found you in such a compromising position, "It's– its not what it looks like Hop—"

"So you're telling me that you two weren't about to–"

"Hop—", you try interrupting him but he interjects you by turning to Steve, pointing his finger at the poor boy while simultaneously squaring up on him. "I'm gonna have a serious fucking talk with your father, Harrington."

He walks backwards, incredibly intimidated, "But, sir—"

"Cover your goddamn tits and wait for me outside, Harrington." Steve gulps, silently nodding– knowing well enough that talking back was going to be fruitless so he leaves the room, the door shutting behind him.

You try speaking up again, "Hopper, listen–"

"No, you listen", he scolds with gritted teeth and flared nostrils, "You are fucking grounded. You can live your stupid paranoid fantasy and stay safe and stuck in this cabin”

“Hop–”

"And that means no tv–"

"Dad–"

"No radio or cassettes, no more phone, no more tv– ", he said as he unplugs the radio player and pulls out the cassette box from under your bed and throws the tapes around in anger "what else are you hiding from me, huh?”

"Nothing, hopper–"

He notices the box pushed further back under your bed and pulls it out— filled to the brim with Steve related stuff. your graduation caps, polaroids, mixtapes, books that had flowers pressed between their pages, beer bottle caps from when you had gotten drunk for the first time– all on the floor for display; the entire thing doing nothing to calm the raging man down. "Hopper, stop–"

"No more fucking dating", he picks up the mixtapes and books, throwing them with immense fury and rage. He pulls out polaroids of you and Steve and crumbles it up.

"NO!!--"

"And NO MORE FUCKING STEVE HARRINGTON", he smashed the now empty box against the floor, "D'YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?" he was shouting now, full on shouting— and it scared you. For the first time, Hopper scared you. The same guy who had saved you, protected you. The first person with whom you felt safe, ever. 

Tears spring up in the corner of your eyes. you duck your chin into your chest, squinting them shut.

“Asked you a fucking question.”

You try to even your breaths before answering, "No."

"What'd you say?", Words dripping in fury.

"I said, no."

"Why? You love that stupid idiot or something?"

The question scares you because you don't have an answer. You wrack your brain, looking for an answer but still…. your brain pulls up a slide that was nothing but a blank screen.

Do you love him?

You like him. You love being with him. He is your best friend, your only friend. But do you love him? how would you know? You do not know. 

“He’s my friend. He’s my only friend, Jim”

"Cut the bullshit, y/n", Hopper spoke as he noticed the tears springing up in your eyes and right now he was too damn angry to regret it.

Either of you don't hear the sound of the door shutting over your own heartbeat. you finally speak up, "You're bullshit."

"What?"

"You see El and Mike everyday, they're always kissing. But you see me with Steve one time–"

"The one time I see you two, you are fornicating— El and Mike don't do that."

"I'm a fucking adult, Hopper"

"You're a goddamn teenager is what you are!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't do this stuff when you were a teenager, Hopper. You’re being an asshole!”

“Maybe you shouldn't have hid things from me y/n and I'm not being an asshole, I'm giving you a reality check. and if you think you’re such an adult then stop fucking hiding in this cabin from the world and feeding you little paranoid fantasy”

Both your chests rise and fall, face warm with aggravation, “Oh, don't look at me like I’m some monster", Hopper shakes his head at you, exasperated. you don't say anything, instead you get up to leave the room, "… where do you think you are going?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Aww, where are you gonna go, to your boyfriend?”

"You know what? That's a great idea, Jim. I’ll go and never come back again, I'll live with Steve or I’ll live in that stupid trailer. I've done it before and I'll do it again", you say with absolute resentment, all gritted teeth and red eyes. "I’ll leave", you sniffled, "Cuz you sure as hell don't want me here."

"Sure, kid, go 'head", he said through flared nostrils and a mock smile.

You raise your volume too before, "You won't have to fucking pretend to care for me anymore, you can take care of El all you want now", you pause for a beat before murmuring, "Clearly you like her more."

"..What–"

"Don't play dumb", your voice shakes as you speak, "it took you years to even consider adopting me, but you took El in in a heartbeat. El’s the one you care about Hopper– just fucking admit it, she's the one that gets hugs, she's the one that gets all the love and affection, she’s always mattered more to you, she's the one who matters to you because she's the one who reminds you of your dead daughter"

You said that. You said that. And the truth was that you meant it. Sure, you regret it, knowing how much it affected Jim. But it seemed only fair in your rageful brain to do the same.

Hopper is frozen, he swallows a lump in his throat. He looks at you hunched over the mess he'd made, your eyes red, watery and enraged.

You see him take a deep breath; it almost seems like he was about to say something. Maybe he'll apologise, you think, maybe you will too. Instead, he turned, his body lingering for a second too long near the door, and you pray that he says something– anything so you could take it all back. He lets out the breath he had been holding and shut the door behind him. A few seconds later you hear the cabin's door slamming. He left. 

…

At the station, Jim was having his lunch– donuts, which Flo had bought for everyone in the light of her birthday. Powell and Callaghan were discussing something, Flo has given Jim some paperwork– he isn’t sure about what though. His mind was too busy playing your argument on repeat.  

El’s the one you care about, Hopper. 

She’s the one who matters to you.

Because she’s the one who reminds you of your dead daughter.

“Chief?” Jim realises that he had been staring at the files that Flo had given him. 

“You okay, boss?”

“Uh, yeah— I’m peachy Callaghan”, Hopper gets up from his chair picking up another donut, “exactly how your wife was last night.”

Powell and the rest of the workers let out a guffaw while Flo looks at Jim with disapproving eyes and Callaghan looks like a kicked dog. Jim picked up his keys, headed towards the exit.

“Where are you going Jim?”, Flo demands behind him.

“Gotta take care of something, Flo”, he picks up his hat and puts it atop his head, “Hold the fort down for me while I’m gone?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Thanks, Flo”, he muttered, flashing a fake grin. Hopper shoves the donut in his mouth and went out the door and into his car. He drives through the empty streets of the local market, one hand tight around the steering wheel and the other holding the crumpled up shopping list you’d made. Joyce would know how to deal with both your and El’s situation, he thinks to himself as he stopped in front of Melvald’s general store, she was actually good at the whole parenting thing, afterall. 

When Jim steps into the empty store, he is met with Joyce putting up a sale sign. “Hey”, her head turned at the sound of the bell ringing.

“Hey, You busy?”

“You’re our first customer, so..” There is a beat. Hopper’s fingers fumble with the edge of his hat. “What now?”

Hopper vents about everything that happened between you two to Joyce while picking up all the groceries you had written in the list. “And its not just y/n, El too— she and Mike are kissing, like constantly and the other day— she just…. slams the door, right in my face. and– and y/n just doesn't wanna tell me anything and every time I try to talk, it just turns into an argument. and this last one just really went to shit”, Joyce hums as she rings up all of Jim’s groceries.

“Y’know, those smug sons of bitches, Steve and Mike. They’re corrupting them, I’m telling you.”, he shakes his head, “This has never happened before. And I’m just gonna lose it. I mean, I’m gonna lose it, Joyce–”

“Just take it down, Hopper”, Joyce speaks with a calm tone as she packed up the groceries.

“I want– I need to get rid of them."

“'rid of them'? you sound like you're going to murder them. and didn’t you already tell Steve and y/n that they can’t see each other anymore?”

“But El—”

“Hopper, that is not your decision to make”

“You don’t get it Joyce, El and mike– it’s constant. It is constant. And y/n's been hiding this thing from me for months probably! Months!”, Joyce huffs at Hopper’s anger, “Okay? That is not good or normal, that isn’t healthy”

“What you did to y/n and Steve isn’t healthy either”, Joyce pushes Hopper’s grocery bag on the counter towards him, “Besides, you can’t just force them apart.” She leaves the checkout counter and moves to an aisle and starts putting sale tags on the items, still continuing the conversation. “I mean, y/n’s right— they’re not little kids anymore, Hop.” The woman explains with knitted brows while the man picks up a random thing from the aisle nearest to him and starts playing catch with himself like a bored toddler.

“They’re teenagers Hopper”, Joyce huffs, “If you order them around like a cop, then they’re going to rebel. It's just— what they do.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Let them do whatever they want?”, Jim tosses the box up again.

“No, I didn’t say that”, she sighs, snatching the box midair while shooting a chastising look towards the tall man, “I think you should talk to them.”

“No. no, ‘cause talking doesn’t work–”

“Not yelling. Not ordering”, she gestures with the tag gun, “But talk to them” The woman turns to put the box back where it belonged while muttering with a shrug, “y'know like a heart-to-heart.”

“A heart-to-heart?” Hopper questions, confused, “what’s that?”

“You sit them down, you talk to them. Like you’re their friend”, Joyce explains while the man leans against a wall rather dramatically as if he was five-year-old listening to a lecture about the theory of relativity, “if you talk to them like you’re on their level, then they really start to listen. And then– you know, you can start to create some boundaries”

“Boundaries”, Jim repeats.

“Yeah, but Hop— it's really important that no matter how they respond,” she pauses for emphasis, “You stay calm. You cannot lose your temper”

The uniform clad man rolls his eyes; however, he hid it quickly before Joyce could notice and taps his fingers awkwardly against the wall, “uh, maybe, you could do it for me?”, he requests as if asking Joyce if he could do his homework

“No.”

“Yeah you could. You could come over after work. Yes?”

“No. it only works if it comes from you. Besides you're the one who yelled at y/n. So, you're the one who will apologize.”, She punctuated her sentence by putting a tag on Hopper's shirt. “But…", She trailed off.

“But?”, Jim echoes.

“Maybe I can help you…”, she picks up a notepad from the counter, “find the right words.”

…

You have locked yourself in your room, not planning on seeing anyone. It's what you deserve anyway. Its probably for the better. The lights are turned off, the only source of light in the pitch darkness is spilling through the tiny gap of your slightly open door. You've hidden yourself under the blanket, the bed a mess from tossing and turning.

You hear muffled sounds of Jim reciting something in a monotonous tone from the room next to you. “...important to establish these boundaries...”, His muttering sounding like he had a cigarette between his teeth, “....we can create an environment where.... we feel comfortable, trusted and open….”, you hear him pause, “to share our feelings”. He pauses again and you turn around in your sheets, burying your head under the quilt not planning to hear any more of it. Because if you did you’d cry, whether of jealousy or hurt or regret or guilt, you did not know, you just knew that you would cry.

After some time you then heard the thump of his feet from his room. They stopped in front of your door for a few seconds and you think for just a second that maybe he will knock, maybe you both will fix this, but then they started moving again, moving further from your door and finally stopping in front of El’s door. He knocks. “Hey”

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you guys, a minute?”, he asks. You couldn't hear the rest of the conversation as it was muffled by the walls and door. But you filled in the gaps— hopper was trying to talk to Eleven and Mike, possibly about the previous night. He was trying for Eleven. Not for you. For Eleven.

Then Hopper abruptly left with Mike— something about the boy's nanna. You knew that definitely wasn't the truth. For once, you felt bad for Mike.

...

"Y/n?", Eleven cracked the door open. You were lying in your bed, back facing the door. Eleven approached the foot of the bed. "Are you okay?", with knitted brows, she asks, eyes trying to adjust to the dark room.

"I just feel a little sleepy, El", she did not need to know about your fight with Hopper. She did not need to see that ugliness.

"Do you want to watch romcom?"

"You do that"

"And you?"

"I'm not in the mood, El. Kinda tired. I'll be fine, I think I just need sleep.”

The short haired girl nodded rather half-heartedly and left. A few seconds later, the door opened again, you didn't turn to see who it was. 

“Do you want ice cream? Hopper brought some”, It was Eleven again.

“... No, I'm alright”, you don't bother looking up.

"Y/n?", you feel her palm on your shoulder before you turn around hoping the dark room hid your red eyes. "I've kept your food here”, she tells you.

You give a faint smile at the girl's kindness. She closed the door behind herself, leaving.

After eating your food, you fall headfirst into the pillows and there lied Mr. Arnold. You held the bear flush against your chest. Maybe the soft toy could help you fix this too. It smelled like Eleven, you smiled at the thought of your sister and you hated the fact that you were jealous of her. She was the kindest, strongest and most adorable kid— and you'd talked to Hopper about her like you resented her. She was your sister, you loved her.

The bear also smelled like Steve. You missed him, you wondered what he was doing. You told yourself to call the boy after Hopper leaves the next morning. You are curled up in your bed, exhaustion overtaking you. Your eyelids grew droopy and soon you were drifting into sleep.

…

You’re in your room, grey and sterile. your headache had dulled out for the most part, although your eyes still felt too dry. Your Papa had come to check in on you. He said that you were getting better and that you could go back to lessons and the rainbow room from the next day.

The entire week you were like this he didn't bring up why you are hurt. You reckon he was disappointed. You don't bring it up either, just glad that you didn't have to wear the collar because you were hurt.

When the doctor gave you medicine with the injection, Papa held your hand, his other hand brushing over your shaved head to comfort you.

"Good job, Seven."

When the doctor leaves, you finally speak up, "Papa?", he looks at you, "are you angry... at me?"

"For what?"

"For what happened that day."

"No, Seven. I'm not. I am proud of you and the extent of your powers”, your heart swells at the praise, "now we just have to hone in on it. Get better at it. Do you understand?"

You nod silently. He clears his throat before getting up from beside your bed. He buttons his grey blazer, "now, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" you nod once again.

He is about to reach for the door when you speak up again, “Papa?”

“Yes, seven?”

“Where is my mother?”

He turns around, the wrinkles on his forehead more prominent, “What?” he walks back up to you.

“I was reading a book in the rainbow room", you explain, " The child in it had a papa and a mama. Why don't I have a mama?”

“Not everyone does, Seven", he answers curtly, “Your mother died when she gave birth to you” he says before once again turning to leave the room.

“You're lying”, he stops and turns and is met with your knitted brows, “I can tell you're lying.”

You see him purse his lips for a second before he speaks up, ”Well, your powers have never been reliable, have they? Your mother is dead.”

“Did I kill her? like I did with that man and the child.”

”yes. Get some rest. Lessons start again tomorrow, Seven."

“Yes Papa”, he is out the door before you even say the entire thing.

…

Hopper doesn’t know what the hell he is doing. He just knows one thing and that is that heart-to-hearts are not his thing. Not anymore anyway. He used to be better at this, at emotions. 

Ever since sarah… he’s felt like this. This empty chasm, this darkness. A black hole. That sucks in everything that is good, warm and bright. Everything he loves, everything he cares for, he swallows it all if it gets too close. It happened after sarah. And for a really long time, Jim decided to never let anyone in– which included you. Your younger self had tried, to win him over, to let his walls down but he hadnt let up. But then last year… Eleven managed to break down those walls, and just like he always does, he swallowed her whole. Enough that she had compared him to that psychotic man who called himself your papa, enough that she had decided to leave. And now he was doing it again, with you. 

Hopper fucking sucks at feelings, not because he doesn't feel but maybe because he doesn't want anyone else to know that he does. The folded-up paper in his hand makes it really fucking clear. And though his palm is slightly sweaty, he blames it on the summer. 

He hates that he shouted at you, multiple times.

Look at me when I’m talking to you.

That is what he had said back then, that is what he had said today. And he saw that same look on you, that deer-in-the-headlight look, the same one he saw on you when he first saw you at the police station. And he immediately regretted it. He and his inflated ego are to blame when he didn't apologize. But he will now, he is going to apologize. He is going to talk things out– have a heart-to-heart. You’re his kid dammit and you fucking deserve it.

Alright hopper, you got this. Just do what Joyce told you and they'll listen to you. 

He stops at your doorstep first, knuckles lifted to knock but then he hears Eleven giggling, and he glances over to her room. Mike is still here, he thinks. Let’s just deal with them first, lets get the easier conversation over with and then he’ll talk to you– he’ll tell you everything, he'll listen to you. 

But then he goes to Eleven’s room and asks if he could talk to them, and he tries he really does try but as it turns out the easier conversation still wasn’t easy at all. Hopper can't help but repeat history.

He has always felt cursed. Cursed to ruin everything as he tends to always end up doing. And in his anger he ends up blackmailing mike to stay away from his daughter.

When hopper came back, Eleven asked him if Mike's nanna (bless her) was okay. "Uh, yeah– she'll be fine kid– pretty sure it was a false alarm." He had lied through his teeth, but he doesn't take it back.

He doesn't take it back. he never goes to your room. he doesn't talk it out. So much for a heart-to-heart.

...

[daydreamgoddess14]

Serenade

MASTERLIST

For the Tedbecca Prompt Party, based on prompt No.27 - A team karaoke night that changes everything.

Ted Lasso / Rebecca Welton- fluffy fluffy.

Rebecca sighed into just one more kiss, relaxing her body against his and letting him hold her up.

“I gotta get downstairs, sweetheart,” he mumbled from behind her ear, making her shiver.

“I know, I know.”

“Don’t want anyone sneakin’ up here to get me and findin’ out what we’re up to.”

“No, not just yet. I want to keep you for myself for a little longer.” He pulled away and looked her in the eye,

“I am yours. Nothin’ and no one gonna take that away, I promise. Gotta go, love you darlin’.” 

“Love you.” She whispered, watching him close the door carefully behind him. Not ten minutes later, she heard him out on the training pitch. She’d just touched up her lipstick when Keeley barrelled in. 

“Baaaabe! Karaoke on Saturday? Whole team’s in! There’s a new place where we can hire a private room just for us. Ted’s in - he’s gonna tell the lads after training. We haven’t done karaoke since Liverpool - it’s gonna be amazing!” She laughed as Keeley recounted the songs she thought every player should sing. “...Barbie Girl for Jamie, of course! Do you think I could get Beard to do a Meat Loaf/Bonnie Tyler duet with me? That would be so much fun. What about you? I can’t wait to hear you sing again! Oh my god, what do you think Ted would sing? Probably some country song, maybe like-”

“Kenny Rogers.” Rebecca interrupted. She cleared her throat, “I mean, I think he likes Kenny Rogers.”

“Wicked, yess - the Gambler! Right, I’ve gotta shoot. I’m taking Babs for lunch. Sorry you can’t join us.”

“Maybe next time. See you Saturday, darling.” Keeley blew kisses and hustled for the door, finally leaving Rebecca alone. 

~~~~~~

The new season was about to start, it felt like a million years since Ted had returned to Richmond after a lonely and destructive month in Kansas. He’d left her sobbing and heartbroken at the airport, watched as his best friend refused to join him, and still gone back. The feeling of instant regret as he walked into Michelle’s house still made him feel nauseous even now. It took an awful lot of prodding from Henry to get to the bottom of why he’d returned. His boy had talked and talked his ear off for weeks, trying to convince him it could just be a holiday and of course he could go back and all he had to do was say sorry and ask very nicely (and use his very best manners) to get his job back from Rebecca. To say she was surprised when he had knocked on her door - the rest of the building miraculously semi deserted due to the summer break - was an understatement. The other coaches had been in, peering around the doorway as they watched him through the corridor and up the stairs. He hadn’t said a word to them, just given them a little nod. 

“Hey boss,” he said with a little knock on the door. She’d been sitting in ‘his’ chair at her desk, looking over paperwork. Though she stood quickly, her knees buckled. He rushed to catch her, the words tumbling from his mouth. “I’m sorry, boss, I’m so sorry.” They’d both sunk to the floor in tears. After 20 minutes, the other coaches couldn’t wait any longer and stormed up the stairs en masse where they found Ted and Rebecca both still crying, both apologising. Roy held out a hand and pulled Rebecca to her feet, offering her a tissue from the box on her desk.

“So you think you can fucking waltz back in here and just get your job back?” Roy asked, looking at Ted but taking a step closer to Rebecca.

“Only if that’s what you all want. I’m under strict instructions to use my best manners and ask very nicely, but if you guys don’t think it’s a good idea then I understand.” They looked around at each other almost as if they’d expected this very situation to occur and had a plan for handling it. Rebecca took the lead and motioned to Nate.

“Can you step outside for a moment please, Ted.” He asked politely. Ted nodded and left the four alone. They spoke in hushed tones, in case he could hear them,

“What do you think?” Rebecca looked around the huddle. With Leslie on holiday, the three gentlemen around her had become her musketeers in recent weeks. Leslie had chuckled on the phone about being their d'Artagnan when he returned.

“I knew this would fucking happen,” Roy grumbled.

“We all did,” Beard agreed.

“Good job we kept this,” Nate held up a folder. He opened it up and pulled out a contract with Ted’s name printed on the top of the page.

“I nearly shredded it last week.” Rebecca admitted.

“So did I,” a chorus from the other three followed.

“So it’s a yes then?” Rebecca asked. Three nods of accord. “Ok, Nate, call him back in, please?” When Ted went back into the room a second time, he was greeted by a line up of Rebecca, with Roy and Beard either side of her looking like a protection detail, and Nate on the end. All arms crossed, all looking stern. “So what is it you’d like to say exactly?” She spoke firmly. Ted cleared his throat.

“Well, uhh… Turns out I made a mistake. You were right, boss. This is my home. I’m sorry to all of you that I made you feel like this wasn’t enough for me. I was worried that it wasn’t enough for Henry but I needn’t have, he loves this place just as much as I do. I’ll get on my knees if it helps, but I want you to know that I apologise and if you’d have me, I’d love my job back.”

“On your knees.” Roy growled. Ted moved to kneel but Rebecca punched Roy on the arm.

“Don’t be a dickhead. Get up, Ted. I can’t promise immediate forgiveness, but we’re all willing to have you back.”

“I can offer some tips on grovelling, if you like.” Nate added. Ted smiled,

“I appreciate you, Nate the Great. Coach?” He turned to Beard at last,

“Missed you buddy.” Beard sniffed, breaking the line to hug Ted. Nate joined them, followed by Rebecca who then pulled Roy in. “We got you something.” Beard said from the epicenter of the hug. Nate’s hand appeared in the air waving the contract. They broke apart and Roy grabbed a pen from the desk.

“Now fucking sign it.” Rebecca took the pen off him,

“Don’t be daft, Roy. At least give him a chance to get settled and sleep and make sure that this is what he wants. Because I tell you now,” she turned to Ted, “I’m not letting you fucking leave again once you’ve signed this. You have to be sure, Ted.” He nodded firmly,

“Yes ma’am.”

“Right, where are you staying?” His eyes swivelled to Beard,

“No room at the inn, pal.”

“With me then.” Rebecca concluded. “And tomorrow we’ll get the flat sorted. I’ll call my housekeeper and ask her to go there first in the morning, by the time you’ve slept off some jetlag she’ll have it all straightened out and ready.”

“We should celebrate,” Nate said, “I’ll call Jade and we can go to Taste of Athens tonight?”

“Good idea, I could murder a gyros.” Roy agreed.

“Excellent. I suggest you go with these lot and find out what you’ve missed out on for the rest of the afternoon? My driver will be here at 3pm.” Considering himself dismissed, Ted joined the others downstairs where he got brought up to speed on pre season plans. The team had started to come in three or four sessions a week to start ramping up their training. Next week would be their first full time week back. In their shared office, Ted realised that Roy hadn’t taken his desk.

“Been waiting til the start of the season.”

“You knew I’d be back,” he concluded.

“We hoped so. Didn’t want to announce a new coach, move onto your desk-”

“Rip up the contract.” Nate added.

“Right, none of that, until we were certain.” Beard explained. 

~~~~~

At 3pm, he heard the click of Rebecca’s heels in the corridor.

“That’s tools down.” Beard announced. He took Ted's case and put it into the boot of Rebecca’s car, tapping the roof of the car and giving them a wave, "see you at 7pm." He called. She unlocked the house and he diligently followed her, leaving his case in the hallway. 

"You'll have to excuse me, Ted, I'm not usually much of a day drinker but this is not a usual day." She poured a large glass of wine from the fridge. "Want one?" He handed her a second glass. 

"Are you OK?" He asked. She slid the glass over to him. 

"I'm fine, Ted. You probably know we've all sort of been expecting this. Or hoping for it at least."

"Yeah but… I didn’t leave the others crying in the airport." She brushed off his comment. 

"I was overwhelmed, that's all, I hate goodbyes."

"I'd Oklahoma you, but that feels a little cruel."

"Why, Ted? What do you think it would reveal?" He didn’t reply. He took his glass and walked around the kitchen slowly, taking in the miniscule details of her life. The little heart-shaped dish with a couple of pairs of earrings and a button sitting inside. The book open on the sideboard - spine cracked and pages down. A framed photograph taken at Ola’s, the team hardly able to all fit into frame, sitting on each other and squeezing in close - Rebecca and Ted in the centre. 

“Y’know, it wasn’t actually a realisation that this place was my home? It is, or at least, it’s part of it. It was actually something else that came to me. The reason I came back.” He looked at her fridge door, more photographs held down with magnets, a slip for an opticians appointment. “It’s you, Becca.” She didn’t turn to look at him, she kept her gaze down on the stem of her glass as she twirled it in her fingers. “Say something? Please?” He pleaded, coming round the island to face her. She shook her head,

“I don’t know, Ted. I don’t think I can put my heart out there again.” She looked sadly at his case down the hall and shook her head again. “No. No, I’m not really ready to talk about this. I’m happy to see you back here, but I hope you’re not back because you think I’m just going to open my arms to you. I have a headache, I’m going to lie down before dinner.” She took her glass and left him in her kitchen, dumbfounded.

Dinner was a happier affair. Ted watched with a smile as Rebecca talked animatedly with the Coaches, it was evident that they’d all become closer over the last month and that they’d been a big support to Rebecca when she’d needed it. They were clearly very protective of her, Nate and Roy sat either side of her and Beard directly across, giving her easy ways to avoid Ted if she’d wanted them. He resolved to give her the space and time she needed. He jumped right back into their original routine. The morning after his return, she woke to the smell of biscuits wafting up the stairs. Each day he went to great lengths to show his commitment to Richmond, and to her. He spent time wooing the team again, and separately, wooing Rebecca. With flowers delivered at home, meals, books he thought she’d like. Nothing overt and nothing at work, but he left her in no doubt over how much he really loved her. One night, he’d knocked on her door and sat with her while she watched Bridgerton, another night they’d looked through the final proofs of the photographs of the players which would be used across the season in their programs and literature. Each time, he left her at the door with a smile and a wave. He’d been the one completely unprepared when she’d kissed him. He’d spent the last couple of weeks trying so hard to win back her affection that he missed it when he’d actually been successful. They’d cleaned up after dinner and he’d boxed up the leftovers, “Here you got Wednesday and Thursday. Think I’ll do a stir fry for dinner on Thursday so that’ll give you lunch for Friday too.” She’d been standing directly behind him when he’d turned back from the fridge, and she’d kissed him so fiercely he’d backed up into the fridge.

He’d spent every night since with her. He’d maintained the flat, and no one at all knew of their relationship.

~~~~~~

The team were in exceptionally high spirits, ready for one big night out before they knuckled down to work and attacked for the Premier League trophy and the Champions League title. Rebecca chatted happily with Keeley and Jamie, Beard and Roy were passionately not-arguing over drinks at the bar, and the team milled around sharing laughs and stories of their summer breaks. Jamie, as Keeley had predicted, gave a roaring rendition of Barbie Girl which had everyone dancing and laughing hysterically, Beard and Keeley killed Holding Out for a Hero in the very best way and Rebecca had been encouraged to get up and sing Rolling in the Deep. The evening was drawing to a natural, happy end when Ted ushered the whole team onto the stage. Keeley and Rebecca stopped talking to look up at the little stage where the players had gathered,

“The fuck is this?” Roy asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Beard added.

“Uhh, the fellas and I put this together earlier today.” Ted confirmed with a nod. Keeley, sensing something incredible was about to happen, picked up her phone to record them. 

“I'm running out of ways to make you see

I want you to stay here beside me

I won't be ok and I won't pretend I am

So just tell me today and take my hand

Please take my hand” 

Rebecca could see Richard and Jamie shrugging at each other, none the wiser, Jan and Moe looked equally confused as the team all joined Ted in unison.

“Just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back

It's not a test, nor a trick of the mind

Only love”

Ted continued, while again, Thierry and Isaac looked utterly baffled,

“It's so simple and you know it is

You know it is

We can't be to and fro like this

All our lives

You're the only way to me

The path is clear

What do I have to say to you

For Gods sake, dear”

The team again picked up on the chorus. All at once, the penny seemed to drop, beginning with Sam.

“Just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back

It's not a test, nor a trick of the mind

Only love

Just say yes, 'cause I'm aching and I know you are too

For the touch of your warm skin

As I breathe you in”

He looked across excitedly at Ted, over to Rebecca and back again, and then began nudging the other players. He looked directly at Rebecca, and Jamie audibly gasped into the microphone. 

“I can feel your heart beat through my shirt

This was all I wanted, all I want

It's all I want”

The whole team were rapturous in the final chorus, they’d been participants in a declaration of love that none of them had seen coming, 

“Just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back

It's not a test, nor a trick of the mind

Only love

Just say yes, 'cause I'm aching and I know you are too

For the touch of your warm skin

As I breathe you in”

Ted let them finish the song alone as he surprised them all even further by stepping down from the stage and getting to one knee in front of Rebecca. 

“Whaddya say, boss?”

FIN

[sanakotsu]

Romantic? Date Translation

Quantified Feelings of Love and Hate/Chapter 6

Writer: Akira Season: Winter Characters: Mayoi, Tatsumi, Kohaku

Translation: Sankotsu Proofread: @boozuru

Mayoi: But when I saw Tatsumi, I immediately felt all my worries disappear! As expected, Tatsumi-san is a saint who is always saving someone like me!

Kohaku: Uh, so.

All of us are here to help HiMERU-han?

Hm~ I guess it’s because we had an easier time with yesterday’s shoot compared to those two.

Mayoi: ...

Kohaku: Can someone respond already? I’m getting lonely from how much it feels like I’m talking to myself.

Mayoi: Oh, um, yes! I apologize! Anzu-san sure is quiet!

Since you’re such a skilled producer, there should be no problem with you acting as a superior and giving orders!

Kohaku: And? You’ve been acting suspiciously. Plus you haven’t contributed to this conversation at all and you’re just slowly slipping away.

It must be because you don’t want to help your friend Tatsumi-han, or even the heinous Crazy:B.

Mayoi: I would never! I don’t see Crazy:B that way at all! In fact, I feel as though we’re peas of a pod since our units debuted at the same time…!

Kohaku: I see. Well, that’s troublesome. I know I’m contradicting myself, but you shouldn’t try to get all buddy-buddy with us.

Mayoi: I, um, was actually hoping to get closer to you on a personal level since it would be terrible of me to hurt you

Kohaku: …? I don’t know what you’re going on about but let’s get along at least for this job. Here, let’s shake hands~♪

Mayoi: Kyaaaaaa?!

Kohaku: …Jeez, that scared me. Why are you yelling all of a sudden?

Mayoi: I’m sorry for catching you off guard! My heart and mind were colliding and made a metallic sound!

Kohaku: Your heart is made of metal?

Mayoi: The impulsive thoughts that wanted to go rampant were being held back by my logic that I call restraint! It’s still unreliable and weak though…!

Kohaku: You're unexpectedly a weird guy, I can’t even keep a conversation with you. Didn’t you have an easy time yesterday when you were paired with Niki-han?

So you are someone who can do it if he tries.

Mayoi: It’s not that. I don’t even know why we got the OK yesterday! That’s why I don’t know what to do now that I’m paired with Tatsumi-san…!

Tatsumi: ...

Mayoi: Ah, Tatsumi-san! Tatsumi-sa~n! It’s Mayoi…! It was difficult to talk to these people I don’t know very well while walking with them!

But when I saw Tatsumi, I immediately felt all my worries disappear! As expected, Tatsumi-san is a saint who is always saving someone like me...!

Tatsumi: Mayoi-san…Anzu-san, Kohaku-san. Good morning everyone.

Kohaku: Oh, good morning. Hm? Wasn’t HiMERU-han with you?

Tatsumi: (Sigh) We ran into a bit of trouble.

Mayoi: (Uu… I want to hide behind Tatsumi-san! I want to be enveloped by the kindness and warmth he radiates from his whole being!)

(But if I were to move right now, I’m sure it would look suspicious…!)

Tatsumi: Is something wrong, Mayoi-san? You’re fidgeting.

Speaking of which, even though we were told in advance, you really did get someone to help us, Anzu-san.

Kohaku: What do you mean?

Tatsumi: Um, well. As you may be aware, yesterday our pair—HiMERU and Tatsumi Kazehaya—were struggling and couldn’t get a single good take.

So in the end, we couldn’t complete our job.

Kohaku: It sure looked like it. We didn’t know what HiMERU-han was so embarrassed since he didn’t want to tell us anything.

Tatsumi: Fufu. His pride gets in the way of consulting his friends for help.

As for me, I told ALKALOID everything yesterday.

Mayoi: You sound…oddly happy to say that…?

Tatsumi: Fufu. That’s because if there’s something you can’t do, it means there’s still room for you to grow.

It’s especially important for ALKALOID to know because I’m often seen as “the big brother who can seemingly do everything” with them.

I feel better knowing that they understand that’s not how I actually am.

Mayoi: Uu…too bright… You’re so optimistic, Tatsumi-san. Even when you’re having problems or feeling worried, you never let it show. Ah…I want to rely on you…!

Kohaku: But isn’t this situation technically not your guys’ fault? It’s all up to the higher-ups on whether or not they say a take is good.

Tatsumi: Yes. This troublesome situation was unexpected. Even with all the time we had yesterday, we got nowhere despite our best efforts.

So we decided to consult Anzu-san yesterday since we realized our efforts alone wouldn’t be enough to get over this hurdle.

We’re grasping at straws not knowing what to do.

❀ ꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎ ❀

➸ previous ❀ all ❀ next ❀

[mysmestranscripts]

ZEN After End

[Background: Jumin’s penthouse]

[Music: None]

Jumin: Bangladesh, Philipines... Not there.

Jumin: All the countries that are left... are small islands.

Jaehee: Where in the world do you think V is?

Jaehee: If you couldn't find him with all your connections, I think we should stop searching.

[Music: Mystic Chat]

TV: A! Celebrity News has the scoop. Echo Girl has been cast as the lead in the new period series "Moon and Stars". We've got the scoop at the scene.

Echo Girl: I have to thank the CEO of my management company for giving me such a good role. I just wanted to prove that young singers like me know how to act with this role.

Echo Girl: Famous singers like me have to pave a new path for the industry to improve you know.

Jaehee: You've had that TV for a long time.

Jumin: Nothing bad will come out of saving. I only watch it about twice a year. I don't feel the need to upgrade.

TV: The soundtrack album has been doing well at the charts too. An interesting fact about this new series! The rising star Zen has also been cast!

TV: Zen was involved in a sexual harassment scandal with Echo Girl two years ago, but his sincere press conference put him under a positive spotlight.

TV: We, here at A! News, gathered up our courage to request an interview with Echo Girl concerning this incident.

Echo Girl: What? Why are you asking me that? It's way in the past now and the misunderstanding was resolved. I hope to meet him in the professional world soon. No more comment.

Jaehee: That scandal is now an embarrassment in her career. Weren't you quite mischievous to cast them in the same series?

Jumin: I didn't give that order. If I had, Zen would be the lead and she'd have a supporting role.

Zen: Oh~ Is that what Kyungju said..? I-I mean, Echo Girl. Anyways, I just like to think that she was young and emotional back then and made a mistake. Anyways, the past isn't important for our acting.

Zen: Mr. Producer, please cut out that part about me calling her Kyungju. She hates it when people say her real name. I mean, I think the name's fine! Hahaha.

Jaehee: Her real name wasn't edited out I see.

[Music stops]

Jumin: That, I ordered.

Jaehee: ...

[Background: Black screen]

Staff: Take five everyone!

Echo Girl: The outtakes are all because of everyone else! Manager! Bring me some water!

Echo Girl: It's so hot here.

[Background: Zen After End 1]

[Music: Narcissistic Jazz]

Zen: I'm sorry I had to make you wait, sweetie!

Zen: …You waited long, right? Kyungju kept making mistakes so we couldn't get a good take.

Zen: I'm sure it must be hard following me around location shoots. Isn't it hard being on set? You can rest at the hotel… I mean, of course it really helps me that you're here.

Zen: Yeah! I love it! I'm so happy to see you watching me. I want you to be my manager forever.

Zen: I get to see you at home and at work… I can never get sick of my cutie pie's face…

Zen: But… why are you wearing such a low-cut top? What if the other crew members see you? We have a lot of young guys here.

Zen: It's okay when you're with me… but it bothers me. What if one of those guys stares at you while I'm focusing on my scene? You're mine…!

Zen: Ugh, alright… I won’t be so sensitive outside. But… let me make sure when we get home, that you’re mine.

Zen: Of course I’m yours. Thinking about possessing each other, it reminds me of the show I did before. Remember “Emperor’s Game”? The line went like this.

[Music: Lonely but Passionate Way]

Zen: From now on to the end of my life, you are mine and I am yours. While the sun rises from the East and sets in the West, you are my sun, my moon, and my stars.

Zen: Saying it in front of you really makes me feel it, MC…

Zen: I’m so grateful that we can be together like this. Don’t start blushing. You are always a blessing and my source of happiness… I want you to be proud of that.

Zen: Every morning when I see you asleep in bed, I tell myself that I will love you and always be true to you. Isn’t that pretty amazing?

Zen: No, what? I'm not practicing my lines.

Zen: I mean all of that. MC... When I see you fall asleep beside me every night... I think about our past, present and future...

Zen: Because we are each other's mirrors and our paths.

Zen: …I'm making you cringe? Sweetie, I guess you don't know what's really cringeworthy. I don't want to stop expressing my love. Look into my eyes.

Zen: MC, you are my life and my traces. Sometimes, we fight over small things, but our hearts are connected, so I'll start to understand everything you went through in your life when I wasn't there.

Zen: Because now, basically you are my life.

Zen: You are my sun, my moon, and my stars… No matter how far apart we are, we'll always think of each other…

Zen: Hahaha… Good job listening to all this, cutie.

[Background: Zen After End 2]

Zen: Even when the sun rises from the West and sets in the East, my heart will never change. My MC, I love you forever.

[srjlvr]

YOURS, CLASS PREZ !! // new me my ass

Blasting your favorite song through your earphones, you slowly walked towards your locker to put your things and got ready for lunch. You checked yourself in your mirror that hang on your locker and smiled when you felt ready.

That was until you felt someone jumping on you while putting their hand on your shoulder. You shoot your glance to the person and saw yang jungwon. “So, you ready?” He asked with an evil smile.

“Not even a bit you fucker, i hate the first step of this plan” You rolled your eyes. “Do you want to just skip to the last step?” He smirked. You kicked his leg and glared, “Not even in a million years! I’m gonna confess to him before the last step!”

“Confession? Last step? What are you talking about?” You heard a third voice behind you as you froze. You turned around to see the one and the only, Nishimura Riki. You let out a long sigh and smiled, “Yn has a tiny crush on someone and she won’t tell me” Jungwon pout.

“It’s my own crush, why would i tell something like that to a rat like you?” You played along and punched his shoulder. Riki raised a brow and immediately run to hug you, “Ynie noona~ You’re gonna tell me who’s that though, right?” He made his puppy eyes and you immediately looked away, to Jungwon’s direction.

“Oh, I think i understand” He let out from the hug with a smirk and winked at you. You blankly stared at him and hit his head, “No you don’t, let’s just go to the cafeteria”

You three walked together into the cafeteria and immediately noticed your friends sitting and laughing together. You run and instantly occupied your seat next to Sunoo.

“Hey guys, I found these dumbasses on my way here” You smiled and pointed at Riki and Jungwon. Haru, Ningning and Hikaru looked deadly at jungwon and raised their eyebrows. “So, Yang Jungwon—OW” Hikaru was the first one to talk but got cut off when you kicked her leg under the table.

She glared at you but you just smiled and signaled her not to do anything stupid. “I bet you all know me but it’s better if i introduce myself again, as a new version of me now.” Jungwon smiled, “Hello, i’m Yang Jungwon, class 11-2’s president, it’s nice to meet you” He ended his short speech and you sarcastically clapped your hands.

“New me my ass” You grabbed some rice and rolled your eyes playfully. “I’m Nishimura Riki, call me a kid and i will not be afraid to send you to the closest hospital” He cutely smiled and began to eat.

Through the lunch you laughed, made jokes together and made sure everyone was having real fun. Jungwon reminded you the plan here and there and you made sure to shot a glare at him every time.

You decided it was finally time to try out and took a long sigh, “Ugh I’m lonely today, i have nothing to do” You scoffed loudly. You friend group looked at you and started laughing loudly, Jungwon joined them right after.

“Oh!! I know, let’s hang out together, all of us!!” Riki shouted out and suddenly the table became quiet. Jungwon knocked his head on the table and the rest of them except sunoo and riki facepalmed.

“S-sure” You nervously giggled. “Yes! Let’s hang out in some park near a river!! Watching the sunset there is alway pretty, and we can buy some ice cream too and then go to the arcade its gonna be so fun!!” He sounded overexcited and jumped in his seat.

“Sure, let’s do that” Sunoo smiled and helped Riki relax.

Your eye twitched, you weren’t angry but you tried to stop your overwhelming feelings. Your first step totally failed, next step is gonna have Jungwon included and you knew it’s not going to end well when Jungwon is involved.

NOTES: kinda random but…HAVE YOU HEARD FUTURE PERFECT?/!?:&/😭😭 its a masterpiece idc what yall say!!1!1!1 also i think riki is kinda stupid here but you havent heard me saying this🥹

TAGLIST (is open!): @enhacolor @luvryuj1n @deafeningballoonnacho @lovienikitty @notrosemary @fairycheol @harperwasstaken1 @icywhatim @lil-iva @love-4-keum @anotherimaginesaccount @i4cho @nakolvr @tlnyjoong @hiqhkey @theboyzrightherex @pr0dbeomgyu @randomness7198 @shyugahh @wonamore @jayeonnature @rrvvby @butterflyy-ningg @brokeprimogems @ritsusakumasgf @yerilv @rionah @hyeunfae @hoonieswrld

SYNOPSIS: In which the school’s top students, also known as the biggest class presidents of their own class and rivals, has to work on a huge project for their school and compete in a national competition……all together?!?

☆ ★ // previous — m.list — next

[peakyblindersxx]

May I request a john smut in which, despite being the cocky beast that he usually is, he manages to get all gentle and intense when, after years of mutual pining, he finally makes love to ada's best friend who's younger and totally inexperienced. Idk I just need this to be fucking intense, like John suffocating his desire for ages and now finally indulging in his worst temptation and showing her what lust is... please i'll burn in hellll

a/n: first of all let me say: this killed me. like, it’s literally all i can think about. god help me. but thank you so fucking much for requesting this bc i liked it sooo much that i decided to make a mini series out of it with the help of my babe @stxdyblr-2k who was sweet enough to offer to ghostwrite on the series �� and to all my other angels who requested fics, don’t worry i will get them done! just wanna give you guys the best quality work i can. my 1st priority are some tommy requests i got, as well as some michael ones after :)

love, abi xxx

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (1 of ?)

warnings: nsfw! eventual smut, slow burn, john being sexy as all hell but also soft

John couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. From the moment you walked into the Garrison, arm loosely linked with Ada’s, clad in a black lace dress that hugged you just right, he couldn’t stop staring. Even Tommy and Arthur had noticed, cracking some joke about him being pussy whipped. The words floated right over his head, his mind on one thing only. The last time he had seen you, you were barely eighteen, cheeks pink as you waved goodbye out the train window to Ada as she sobbed. Ada had always had a flair for the dramatic, but the two of you had practically been attached at the hip your entire lives. So, he consoled her, reminding her that university wasn’t forever, that you would be back soon enough. And back, you were, red-stained lips sipping at a glass of something that Ada had practically shoved in your face. You weren’t a girl anymore, black heels crossed at the ankle as you sat across the room in a booth, laughing as Ada waved her arms, telling some sort of story.

“Just fuckin’ talk to ‘er, John-boy,” Arthur’s voice cut through John’s train of thought like a sharp knife, and he focused his eyes on his two brothers sitting at the booth across from him, clouds of smoke from Tommy’s incessant smoking heavy in the air around them.

“Fuck off,” John returned as he stood, earning a chuckle from Tommy.

“That’s right,” Arthur shouted as John made his way towards the bar, rolling his eyes at his older brothers. “Make sure you show her a real good time, eh?” Arthur’s voice was soon drowned out by the crowd around John, as they parted to let him walk through. He didn’t even see them, his eyes trained on your smile. Fuck, you were pretty.

***

“So, then I fucking kicked him in the balls.” Ada’s eyes sparkled triumphantly as she recalled the time she’d incited a riot, managing to cause great injury to a certain part of a policeman’s body. She did so casually, like it was no big deal. You couldn’t control your laughter as Ada grinned, pleased that she’d been able to make you laugh. “Fuckin’ missed you, Y/N,” she professed, shooting the rest of her gin and gesturing at the bartender to “leave the fuckin’ bottle, already.”

“Missed you too,” you smiled back at her, happy to be back in Birmingham in the company of an old friend. London was beautiful, but lonely. There was something inside you that missed the dirty streets, the crowded pubs bursting with familiar faces.

“Had to come over here myself to make sure it was you,” A deep voice interrupted your reverie and you looked up to see none other than Ada’s older brother John, looking even handsomer than the last time you’d seen him, in a grey-three piece suit, a cigar hanging from his lips. You’d had the hugest crush on him growing up, and the butterflies swimming around in your stomach seemed to confirm that you still found the tallest Shelby brother irresistible.

“Hi, John,” You offered him a shy smile and scooched over as he slid into the booth next to you, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help but drink in the smell of his cologne, the various drinks that Ada had encouraged you to down making you press yourself closer to him.

“M’kay, if you’re going to fuck, at least wait until I’m gone.” Ada’s voice snapped you out of it and you looked away, a pink blush staining your cheeks.

“Says the one who managed to fuck three of my best mates before you left school,” John retorted, causing Ada to roll her eyes, shooting her whiskey and pouring the three of you another glass each.

“I feel like getting drunk, and I’m not doing it alone,” Ada announced, causing both you and John to crack a smile at her forcefulness.

“Good thing we took a cab here,” you returned, before shooting your whiskey. If you were going to have to stare at John all night, you thought, you might as well be drunk doing it. Wasn’t like he was going to be staring back.

***

Ada was shitfaced, dancing in the middle of the pub. Luckily, Isaiah had stepped in as her partner, making sure her stumbling didn’t cause her to trip and fall. Unluckily for you, this left a tipsy you and John alone tucked into a booth in the corner of the room, out of view. The conversation was friendly, and you were trying your best to keep your mind off the way you could see John’s forearms practically bulging out of his suit. It wasn’t fair, you thought to yourself, for him to walk around looking like that. Especially when you knew that he was probably fucking the latest movie star, or something. It was almost impossible for you to keep your head straight, yet you managed to keep it civil. However, you couldn’t help your gaze from drifting to his lips. God, they were so pink and looked so soft, it was unfair. You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining how they’d feel on your mouth, let alone other parts of your body. Jesus, you were fucked.

A third of a bottle of whiskey later, you couldn’t help but let yourself slide closer to him, heart beating fast in your chest as you sat tucked into his side, his arm around you as you laughed at a joke he’d made, something about the stick up Tommy’s ass. Your eyes shone as they met his blue ones, his arm sliding down until his fingers were brushing against your waist, radiating heat into your skin.

“Y’know, I’d tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look tonight, but I think you already know that,” John rumbled into your ear, lips just barely brushing against your neck. Your breath hitched, and he noticed, a small grin spreading across his lips.

“You’re something else, you know that?” You shot back, a small smile threatening to take over your lips.

“M’not just sayin’ that. Couldn’t take my eyes off ‘ya, since you walked in.” John wasn’t kidding. For a second you didn’t know how to reply, staring up at him with a slight look of disbelief. The whiskey, however, had other plans, and had decided to respond for you.

“Can't keep your hands off me now." You smirked, waiting for him to escalate the moment, anticipation and liquor silencing the blaring alarm in your mind. God, you shouldn't want him as badly as you do.

"Can you blame me?" He muttered, dragging his fingers across the lace of your dress, tracing the pattern's loops absentmindedly, watching your jaw tense and lips part to take a gasping breath, your jacket having long vanished into the chaos of the pub. Your arms wound themselves around his neck, fingers twisting into his short hair. "Fucking come 'ere lass."

His strong arms lifted you onto his knee, gripping a thigh to help you balance, the friction of his rough hand against the stiff fabric pushing your dress up slightly. The need for more and the desire to know him completely intoxicated you far more than anything from a bottle; you'd never felt as though you were on fire from your drunk hookups. His fingers found the zip of your dress, tugging it down desperately, gripping the flesh of your exposed shoulder blades. A small groan erupted from your lips as you felt him chuckle below you, pressing a thumb to your lips to quieten you.

"John," you whined, pouting playfully against his thumb.

"I'll sort you out, I swear," He muttered, slipping his thumb between your lips. Instinctively, you sucked, locking eyes with him, his hand straying from your back to roughly grab your jaw, holding your gaze. "But if you're going to scream your 'ead off, we'll get caught."

"You wish you could make me scream, John-lad."

"Come off it, I could ruin you, Y/N." He stated, lifting your jaw, as though memorising the construction of your face, tone brimming with a cocky confidence only John could make attractive. "You want that?"

"More than anything." The words tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly, watching how his jaw tightened in response as you attempted to read his expression. He studied you for what must've only been a few seconds, but the moment passed so slowly, you could barely remember what it felt like to not be examined by his dominating blue eyed stare.

His grip guided your face to his, fingers tilting your chin so John's lips could brush against yours, before pulling you into a heated almost aggressive kiss, the straps of your dress barely grazing your shoulders, the hem of your dress bunching around your waist as he reached down your back to grab your bum in a firm squeeze. Your mouth gaped open in a gasp of pleasure, John taking the moment to run his tongue against your lips, gaining access and deepening the kiss. You were so caught up in the thrill of John's seduction that you hadn't noticed his hand suddenly pull away after moving your skimpy underwear to one side. You had instinctively ground your hips against him, he'd broken the kiss to let out a string of curses, complimenting you through his quickening breaths (“Fuckin’ wet for me already, aye?”), gripping your thigh. But as soon as he had pulled the thin silk from your thighs, the atmosphere shifted, his lip curling in frustration as his hands left your skin as though your flesh was suddenly scalding.

"John?" You prompted, resting a hand on his shoulder, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes for the first time.

"It's getting late."

"What?" Your voice sounded high and whiny, you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so needy. It was embarrassing to be rejected by the man you've admired for many years, but even worse to be openly vulnerable and so pathetic in front of your best friend's brother.

Ada.

Oh fuck.

Realisation hit you, it was either that or the unholy quantity of alcohol you'd downed which turned your stomach. You had gone too far this time. It was one thing to flirt with John and desire him from a distance, it was an absolute betrayal to have sex with him, knowing Ada's insecurity about being used to get close to her gangster brothers- sex, power and politics. You had sworn during those tearful walks around the canal that you'd never hurt her. You couldn't do that to her.

Your sudden panic must've been obvious, you tried to stand up from John's lap, stumbling slightly, only regaining balance due to a sudden arm across your back, anchoring you upright.

"No one has to know. It's our secret yeah?" He muttered into your ear, his words comforting.

You nodded silently, the reality of the situation settling in. Your hands are shaking by your sides, John catches them, locking his fingers with yours.

"It's fine, now. Nothing happened yeah?" He stood up in front of you, his muscular physique looming before you, the creases across his torso reminding you that just a few minutes ago his body was under yours, he was breathless, needing your skin against his, desperate and vulnerable. "I'll zip you up. Turn around."

His hands dropped from yours to fumble clumsily with your zip, struggling in the gloom and fog of intoxication, he eventually succeeded, the lace clinging to the curve of your hips, waist, back and chest again. You wished it was him instead that was skimming your figure but you pushed the thought away with a simple, "Thanks."

"I'll walk you home yeah?" He offered, as he straightens your skirt and his tie, allowing you to fix his crumpled shirt collar and the row of shining buttons below his throat which you'd ripped open as he whispered dirty nonsense in your ear, smirking at how you arched your back and swore back at him through your moans.

"Isaiah already said he would, it'd be better for us both that way. You know how people around here talk." You replied, glancing at the mirror on the wall of the booth to quickly smooth your tousled hair. Despite only recently returning to Small Heath, you'd already encountered the rife gossiping and quickly realised your neighbour was incapable of minding his own business. "Nobody has to know, right?"

John nodded, disappointed but appreciating your rationale and quick thinking despite your state, "Right."

"Good night, John," You said politely, ignoring the tension in his tone and the sudden soft sadness of his eyes, turning your back and walking to the door. Back to the sticky dance floor, back to Ada, Isaiah, Finn, Tokyo, back to spilling drinks, ashing cigarettes, back to noise, safety and far from the man who made your morals vanish with the same lines he uses on probably every single one of his conquests. Fuck it. You were going to enjoy it, you sped up your pace in your heels, trying to ignore your shaking legs. You tried to ignore the guilty twang in your gut when Ada screamed your name across the pub and stumbled over, dragging some lad on her arm, pressing drunken kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

You couldn't help but look back to see his shadow sloping away into the darkness of the booths closer to the dance floor, being bullied mercilessly by his brothers you assumed. You watched him fake a smirk, take the knuckles to his brow from Arthur, snap an insult back to Thomas and settle into his rightful seat. You only shifted your gaze to Ada for a moment but when you looked back up, he was staring at you, jaw tense, icy stare burning into yours, arms folded on the table, the gold chains of his sleeve garters barely glinting in the dim light. He looked away but you could see his cheeks were flushed with blood even in the glow of the oil lamps.

Pretending nothing happened was going to be impossible.

***

to be continued!

[dollslayer]

Charity Case

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU, enemies to lovers

Summary: You loathe Bucky Barnes and his cocky attitude but you find yourself doing him a favor. Is he really as insufferable as he seems?

W/C: 3,830

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, uhhh kissing, that's it!

A/N: Here it is! My entry for @sweeterthanthis Quote Me On It 6k challenge!! My quote was "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?" (in bold). I love the Heathers so I'm excited!! Hopefully I did this prompt justice. As always, if you liked it please reblog/comment! Cheers! I do not consent to my work being reposted/translated on any platform.

Main Masterlist

____

Steve was running late again. You try not to chew your nails off in frustration but he’s definitely testing you. This is the third time in the last two weeks that he’s late to meet you. When he hasn’t been late he’s cancelled all together. Always with a half-ass apology of ‘Bucky needs me’. As if.

You’ve been friends with Steve since your freshman year creative writing class when the only open seat was next to him. Ever since that first day you two had been close. But not as close as him and Bucky. Childhood friends attending university together, thicker than thieves.

You always felt like Bucky was maybe a little jealous of the friendship you and Steve have. Maybe you’re a little jealous too but you’re almost positive Bucky is more jealous of you than you are of him but that’s beside the point. On top of his jealousy Bucky was just annoying. He had a girlfriend but he was always flirting with every girl he met, yourself included. Not to mention he was cocky as all hell.

Steve vouches for his character, swears that it’s all an act and he’s actually very sensitive underneath but you don’t buy it for a second. If you were his girlfriend you’d have dumped him a long time ago.

You don’t have time to dwell on your annoyance too much because Steve is rushing through the doors of the coffee shop. He looks around for you and when he finally finds you the look on his face is relieved. As he gets closer it’s clear that he’d been running to get to you in time. He’s sweaty and a little out of breath and if you weren’t so annoyed with him you’d have found it endearing that he ran here.

“There you are,” he huffs out, “I’m so sorry, I was with Bucky and I lost track of time.”

You purse your lips and hand him a napkin which he takes with a gracious nod before wiping the sweat from his brow. You hand him the iced coffee you’d ordered for him too. The ice is slightly melted from sitting there but he looks so refreshed to be drinking it.

“Figures” is all you say with a huff. If he hadn’t been doing it so often you would’ve been a little kinder about it but you were just irked.

“Seriously, I’m sorry. Nat just dumped him, he's been having a hard time” Steve explained.

“Is it because he flirts with anything that moves?” You scoff.

Steve scoffs in return “He does not! He’s just… outgoing. But no, they had their own problems.” You raise one eyebrow at him. “Okay the flirting had something to do with it but there’s a lot going on there.”

“Whatever, let’s just study for this exam while we can”.

____

You and Steve spent the next two hours cramming for your midterm together. Things were going well and you’d nearly forgotten that you were mad at Steve in the first place. Nearly.

You were so deep into your notecards that you didn’t hear the door open behind you. A voice that could grate on only your nerves. A voice that if it didn’t belong to such a bastard, might even be kinda sexy. The voice breaks your focus completely when it calls out.

“Hey, Steve, are you done already or what? Oh hey, what’s up, beautiful?”

You set your notecards down on the table maybe a little harder than you should. You shoot Steve a glare because you thought it would just be the two of you. Really? You cut in before Steve can answer his friend.

“No, Bucky, he’s not. Can we help you?”

He smirks, giving you his full attention. He knows he has you now, knows you took the bait and he’s goaded you to the point of backtalk. He pulls up a chair to the table and wedges himself tightly between you and Steve. The sound of the chair legs scraping the floor as he scoots closer to you rings in your ears and makes you cringe. You look at Steve again only to find him avoiding your gaze.

“Well, sweetheart, me and Stevie boy here have plans later. Gonna do some gaming and order a pizza, really embracing the bachelor lifestyle.” He raised his eyebrows at this and you just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I heard Nat dumped your ass, actually, is that true?” You asked with a fake sweetness.

“Why, you interested?” He rebuffed.

You bristled at his quick response and muttered your annoyance under your breath. You chose not to respond. Instead you decided to address Steve.

“Steve, I didn’t realize that you had plans”

“Oh… yeah, loose plans…” He answered distractedly while pretending to be reading a text on his phone.

You decide to call it a day. You were getting seriously fed up with Steve’s passive behavior in all of this. Thankfully you didn’t have much to pack up, so once you slung your backpack over your shoulder you looked up at the pair to bid them goodnight.

“Well, Steve, this was… enlightening. Bucky, eat it. Goodnight fellas, have fun with your ‘bachelor lifestyle’” You said with air quotes. Turning on your heel you left before either could respond.

____

You had left the coffee shop that evening pretty upset with Steve. Of course it’s fine for him to have other friends but lately it was like he only cared about Bucky and all of your plans took a backseat to theirs. You decided you weren’t going to be the one to text Steve first, since he was being a bad friend. He could be the one to initiate plans.

He did just that when he caught you in the hallway after your midterm a week later. He jogged up to you once again and tugged on your sleeve to get you to stop.

“Hey, how do you think you did? Bet those notecards paid off, right?” He half-joked. He looked sheepish. Nervous almost. You figured it was because of what happened last time you met.

“Yeah, Jesus Christ! I’ve never been so grateful for little pieces of paper.” You scoffed. You decided to keep it light between you. You were still upset with him but his tone leads you to believe he was gonna apologize.

“Right?” He laughs nervously, “So listen, I know I’ve been kind of a jerk lately… Maybe we could get something to eat at Nick’s?”

Nick’s was the local greasy spoon on campus and they had the best breakfast food you’d ever had. You eyed him suspiciously but accepted.

“Alright, but you’re buying. And there better not be any visitors!” You add as you bound down the hall ahead of him. He knows you mean Bucky and he’s not worried because Bucky won’t be showing up today. He’s more nervous about what he has to ask you.

____

You’re sipping on pop as you play with your straw wrapper. You look up at Steve and notice he’s fidgeting a lot more than usual.

“What’s up? Why are you so twitchy?” You question him.

“Me? I’m not twitchy! I was just thinking that’s all” He quickly defends himself.

“Well that was the last midterm of the semester for both of us, I think it’s safe to say you can relax.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Steve concedes quietly.

You and Steve eat in near silence, neither of you mind though because it’s comfortable. You worked on your hashbrowns when you looked up and noticed that Steve had barely touched his food. He was still fidgety, he looked nervous.

“Hey, you’ve hardly eaten anything, what’s the matter?”

He looks a little embarrassed, like he’s been caught. Or like he’s about to come clean about something.

“Look, I wanted to say sorry I know I haven’t been the best friend lately with everything going on with Bucky. He really is having a hard time since the breakup y’know… he’s lonely”

“Right” You laughed, “I’m sure he’s soo lonely.” You rolled your eyes and picked up your fork.

“No really, he just needed a friend to be there. I think he does need to get back out there though.”

“With how smooth he thinks he is, I'm sure he’ll have a date by the end of the night. I wouldn’t worry about it, Stevie.” You responded.

“I’m serious! As much of a player as he comes off he needs to be with someone he already knows. He’s actually really sensitive.” You interrupted with another laugh. There were many choice words you’d use to describe Bucky Barnes but ‘sensitive’ is not one of them.

“But anyway, I was...kinda hoping you’d do me a favor…” Steve trails off.

Based on the conversation you just had you’re cautious. You eye him warily but motion for him to continue.

“Well, like I said Buck’s having a hard time and he needs to get back out there but he doesn’t feel comfortable hooking up with a stranger. I was thinking maybe.. You guys should hang out?”

Steve refused to look at you as he finished the question. The look on your face was a look of confusion and shock.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?” you asked in disbelief. “I mean seriously, I’m nice but not that nice.”

“Look-”

“No!” You cut him off, “You know I can’t stand that prick. Also why would I want to put myself on the long list of women he’s probably tried to fuck? I don’t buy this whole ‘sensitive’ thing for a minute.”

“I’m serious, Nat kinda crushed his heart when she left. He acts cocky but it’s a front. I just think he needs to see someone to get it out of his system. You’ve got more in common than you think. Just hang out with him once. Don’t think of it like a date, just a really really big favor. Please?” Steve begged.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “You. Owe. Me. So. Much”

“Really?” He asked hopefully.

“Really. But I’m not gonna bang him. Hard no on that” you said.

“Yeah, yeah of course! No problem! I’ll give Bucky your number!” He reached across the table and grabbed your hand. His hands were kidna clammy but you let him.

“Seriously, thank you. I know you think he’s some jerk but I promise he’s a good guy.” Steve adds, “A-and don’t think of it as like a date, even, y'know? I think honestly he could just use another friend. Think of how good it could be if we could all hang together some time?”

You shook your head and chuckled at his optimism while you stabbed another bite of your meal.

____

‘What’s up, sweetface?’ Gross.

‘Okay, sorry. Hi, how are you?’ Better.

‘I’m alright, you?’

‘Good. Steve tells me you’re a huge trivia nerd. Wanna go to Sally’s tn?’

‘It’s a date’ Shit. Didn’t mean to say that. Fuck. Quick- say something that will deflect before he responds!

‘And since it’s a date you’re paying’ That’ll have to do.

‘Ugh fine. Here’s hoping you’re a cheap date at least. I’ll meet you there at 9’

____

What do you wear for a date with someone that you despise? It’s just bar trivia so it’s nothing special but somehow the jeans and flannel you’ve been wearing all day don’t feel like they make the cut. You rip your closet apart trying to find something before you settle on black skinny jeans and your favorite sweater with some boots. Casual but not too casual.

You spend the whole walk there dreading the night ahead of you. Knowing that you wouldn’t even have Steve as a buffer between you made the whole evening seem daunting. At least you had trivia to distract you. You decide to give Bucky the benefit of the doubt tonight for Steve’s sake. You try to remember Steve’s insistence that Bucky’s a good guy and you have a lot in common. We’ll see about that.

When you arrive at the bar you find Bucky already waiting for you at a high-top table with two PBRs and a shot of brown liquid. Please don’t let that be whiskey. He sees you coming and smiles that damn-his-good-looks smile at you while patting the open chair next to him. The closer you get you even see that he got the whiteboard already for trivia.

“Please tell me that’s not Jameson or Fireball” you greet him.

He laughs a little and shakes his head. “Better - it’s Jack. Sorry, doll, but I already opened the tab. This is what we’re drinking” He nudges one of the shots closer to you and motions for you to pick it up. “Come on, we gotta start the night off right, bottoms up!”

Before you can gag at the thought of drinking whiskey you grab the glass and face him. You both knock your shots on the table before clinking them together and swallowing them in one go. You grimace at the taste and feel the warmth flow all the way down your throat. You quickly take a sip of your beer to rid yourself of the taste.

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re grossed out.” Bucky coos at you.

You’re embarrassed and annoyed but it goes away quickly.

“Shut up, Barnes”

You give him a light shove and he pretends like he’s about to fall off his stool, making you laugh. For someone that’s only ever annoyed you he’s doing a pretty bang-up job of being likeable when it’s just the two of you.

“You ready for me to carry you through some trivia?” You joked.

“Hey, now! I know...stuff” he concluded.

“Mmhmmm, I’m sure you do. Don’t worry, I’ll answer the questions and you just sit there and look pretty” you reach over to pat his face lightly with a wink.

Bucky grumbles before taking another sip of his beer.

You settle in for a long night when the host announces the first round is starting.

____

You managed to steal the first round without breaking a sweat, second round was a little rocky until it came down to you and one other couple. You knew the third round would be tricky but the way Bucky was cheering you on you were determined. To no one’s surprise Bucky had been completely useless so far but to his credit he was trying. At least he was a supportive teammate.

Things were going well until the third round was announced: Old School Videogames. You didn’t know shit about old school videogames. Or regular videogames. The extent of your video game knowledge started and ended with Mario Kart.

When the third round was announced though Bucky hit the table in excitement and cheered.

“Woo! Fuck yeah!” He pats you on the shoulder, “I got this, don’t worry. I so fuckin’ got this!”

He was a few drinks deep but he was so confident and he was your only hope so you went with it. He looked like a little kid the way he was practically giddy.

“You had better! There’s some serious prize money riding on this round.” You said in warning.

“No, no. You don’t understand that I’ve GOT this. Your turn to look pretty, not that it’s gonna be all that hard for you, sweetface” Bucky grinned at you over his beer as he took another sip.

Your cheeks felt heated and you tried your best to hide it by taking another drink yourself. Bucky’s flirting has never worked until now. Must be the alcohol.

“Shut up, Barnes” you mumble.

“Y’keep saying that but what I really think you mean is ‘I love you, Bucky you’re so strong and handsome~’” He imitated in a high pitched feminine voice.

You shoved him for real and before you could say anything else the third round was starting.

____

Bucky wasn’t kidding when he said he had this. He had won the round in a clean sweep and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed. Who knew this man harbored so much videogame trivia? When the host handed you the prize money he just waggled his eyebrows as if to say See?

“I gotta hand it to you, Barnes, I had no idea you had that much videgame wisdom rolling around up there. The only videogame I ever play is Mariokart so I’d be toast without you.”

“Mariokart? That’s it?? No problem, doll. It was nice to contribute.” He chuckles at that.

You divvied the money up and handed him his half.

“Guess I’m not such a cheap date afterall, huh?”

He chuckled as he took his half from you.

“I’m gonna go pay the tab with our winnings, I’ll be back”

You picked up your phone while you waited for him to find some missed texts from Steve.

‘How’s it going?’ ‘Are you guys doing okay?’ ‘I haven’t heard anything so I’m assuming you haven’t killed each other. Have fun, text if you need a ride home.’

You almost rolled your eyes at Steve’s insistence but found yourself smiling instead. You’d text him back when you got home.

Bucky was walking up to you once more and you smiled at him slightly.

“You said you’re good at Mariokart?”

“I didn’t say I was good at Mariokart, I said that I played it. Why?”

“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could go back to mine and I could whoop your butt”

You weren’t going to say yes but now he was goading you and you took the bait without hesitation.

“Oh, you’re on, Barnes. You’re so, so on.”

His smile grew wider when he heard your response. With that he placed his hand on your lower back and ushered you out of the bar.

____

You played two tournament cups worth of Mariokart and Bucky had indeed whooped your butt. You don’t know why you were surprised, with how much gaming he and Steve do it’s no surprise he’s a natural. You still had fun though. Just when you were about to propose a third round Bucky got up and headed to the kitchen without a word.

He came back with two glasses of water and handed you one. He sat down on the floor next to you and you set down your controller.

“Here, drink up.”

You were taken aback a bit by the kind gesture but accepted the glass just the same.

“Thank you, I might regret saying this but, you’re not so bad when you’re not being insufferable, Barnes”. You told him

He smiled and shook his head as he drank his water.

“Thanks, I guess”

“How come you can’t be like this all the time? When it’s just the two of us you’re so kind and you’re even… I don’t know, funny maybe. Why do you get all cocky whenever else I see you?”

He looked down into his glass at your comment and you watched his brows crease in thought.

“I don’t know, it just sort of… happens, whenever I’m around other people I don’t know that well. I don’t mean to be a dick or anything but it’s like I can’t help myself. People expect me to be a certain way and I can’t help but fall into it sometimes. Nat hated that about me, it’s part of the reason why she dumped me, actually”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry about the breakup, too. I know you guys were together for a while.” Bucky only shrugged at this and downed the rest of his water.

“It is what it is. I’m ready to be over it, I’m getting there slowly but surely. I gotta say, you’re not so bad either when you’re not getting all defensive and in my face. You’re actually pretty funny”

Your turn to become flustered at a personal analysis.

“Thanks, I guess I don’t mean to be so defensive either, it's just my response to most other people. I feel myself slip into it and it can’t be helped.” You explained.

Bucky nods at you, not knowing entirely what to say in response.

“I like spending time with you” He says leaning closer to you.

You swallow thickly, not sure what to make of what you feel knowing his face is so close to yours.

“I… like spending time with you too. You’re not what I thought.”

“Me neither,” he shakes his head, “You’re something else.”

With that he leans his head closer to yours and you feel yourself close your eyes and move your lips to slant perfectly into his. You’re kissing Bucky Barnes. The Bucky Barnes you can’t stand. That Bucky Barnes. You’ve decided that his tongue feels too good in your mouth to care now.

His hands come to frame your face and bring you in closer. His hands are warm and calloused but they feel like comfort. You can’t help but to melt. You moan into his mouth and it seems to spur him on. He pulls you into his lap and you let out a noise of surprise that’s muffled by his mouth on yours.

Your hands come to caress his sides and you take your time feeling every muscle and ridge. Your hands idly make their way under the hem of his shirt and his skin is just as smooth as you’d expect. He sighs into your mouth and it takes all of your strength not to fall apart right there. You feel yourself getting lightheaded and have to pull away for air. When you do you rest your forehead against his and the only sound is both of your breathing.

You finally brave a look at him and he has the softest smile on his lips.

“Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to get so carried away but I’ve been waiting for a long time to do that.”

This catches you off guard.

“You have? Wait, did you like me? But you flirt with everyone!” You explain.

“With you, I flirt with you. You just can’t stand me” he laughs out, “Nat dumped me for a couple reasons but that’s one of them she told me I needed to get my priorities straight and I gotta say, I’m thankin’ her for sayin’ it ‘cause she was right.”

You don’t know what to say or what to make of any of this. All you know is that you want to kiss him again, so you do. You grab him by the collar and pull him into you again. He lets out a startled noise but kisses you back all the same.

You don’t care what you used to think of Bucky Barnes and you don’t care about what’ll happen after today. Right now all you care about is feeling him in sync with you for the first time. You could live in this moment forever but right now will have to do.

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (Pt.2) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART TWO

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png​, @bakugouswh0r3​, @yatoatyourservice​, @ayocee​, @marvel-ing-at-it-all​, @astrolcve 

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks to everyone for the kind feedback and for reading my work <3 

< PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART >

----

He swings his beer over the counter, "one more."

He shouldn't be drinking. Imagine the damage it's doing to his organs, alcohol sweeping through his bloodstream and purging him of all coherent thought. Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa's nagging voice in his head even within the depths of intoxication.

Does he care though? He should. He should care. Because his job is basically to get people in their best shape.

And here he is, drinking away his sorrow, still shaken up by the way Hoisuke's fingers had grabbed for him that night. The bundle of nerves he'd squashed down had only intensified upon dropping his son on his mother's doorstep the same weekend and though he knew he should've said something to Mizune, he couldn't find the will to utter the words out, lest they came back to haunt him.

His phone buzzes in his pant pocket and after finishing it out with clumsy fingers, he manages to press down onto the green button.

"Yeah?"

"You're drinking!"

"No."

"Iwa-chan~" Oikawa's voice pierces through the receiver, sickly sweet and yet with a dark threatening undertone, "what are you doing?"

"Fuck off, shittykawa."

"Where are you?"

Iwaizumi doesn't answer. He doesn't need to, for Oikawa's already exclaiming the said bar's name as he takes another sip of his newly-filled beer glass.

"I thought you said you wouldn't drink anymore," Oikawa reproaches, "think of what Hoisuke would say--"

"I said fuck off."

There's a small pause where Oikawa bristles, before he says in a quieter tone, "what's wrong?"

Still, Iwaizumi says nothing but takes another huge gulp of his beer. His head feels buzzed, disoriented.

"Iwa-chan."

The said man press his lips in a taut line.

"Iwa-chaaaan."

"I'll talk to you later," Iwaizumi barely hears his friend's protests before he cuts off the call and downs the rest of his beer like a parched man, eyes narrowing towards anyone who dares reprimand him of his behaviour.

"One more," he rasps out towards the bartender, whose sending him a look that closely mimics one that clearly says he's had enough. But he scowls in response and that's enough to make the bartender's eyes slip away.

Seriously. What is wrong with him? It's already been four months goddamnit. Get over yourself. He wishes he could punch himself in the face. God, he sounds like a loser. He looks like one. And it's no wonder that his wife has left him for someone better, richer. Everything that he's not.

Not to forget that this wound will never leave their son's heart.

"One rum and coke please."

A presence lingers in his right and the brown-haired man turns with a glare at the ready, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line to scare whatever stranger that comes a little too close for his liking.

What the--

He stares at you. You stare back at him, just as dumbfounded. Looking the same, yet completely different.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Iwaizumi-san?"

He feels the sudden urge to hide his empty glass, "what--are you doing here?"

"Don't look so surprised, Iwaizumi-san," you chuckle at what you think is his flabbergasted expression, "I'm still twenty-six you know. I came here with a few of my friends."

His eyes slide towards the table in the far corner -- easy to spot since it's one of the loudest -- before he almost misses your question, "and you?"

"I come here often."

"Ah I see."

As you pay the bartender who slides your drink over, you bristle for a bit before you ask hesitantly, "mind if I sit here?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head. It's not like he can say no after all. You're his kid's teacher. And shit, how many beers has he had? He better not run his mouth. It's a dirty habit of his whenever he's shit drunk.

"So," you start off slowly, looking so out of place next to the said man with a scowl so dark it can scare off the most violent of gangsters that the corners of Iwaizumi's mouth tilt upwards in amusement, "how's it going?"

Seriously? You're seriously going to do that? His gaze searches your features for a moment, satisfied when warmth floods your cheeks.

You look away, "you don't have to look at me like that, you know. I just thought you’d want some company."

"What makes you think that?” Iwaizumi says while he flags down another beer from the waiter. 

You blink at him, “I can go if you want--”

The man sighs, rubbing his temples with tiredness, “that’s not what I meant.”

A weird, empty gap of silence ensues. Long enough that Iwaizumi gets his fourth beer of the night in his hand and he takes a grateful swallow. 

He really should not be drinking so much.

"Where do you work?” 

You’re persistent. He’ll give you that, “personal trainer. I work at the sports academy.” 

“That’s cool,” there’s a small smile edging upon your lips, “you like it?”

He nods, pauses briefly, before asking, “do you?” 

Of course it’s a little too close for comfort, especially since you’re Hoisuke’s teacher and all. But you merely relax in your high stool, swinging your legs while nodding eagerly. He can’t help but notice the tightness of your dark jeans, your black high-heeled boots, “I don’t see myself working as anything else. I’m bad with people most of the time.”

Taking another swig of his beer, Iwaizumi feels the tension slowly ease up from his shoulders, “well you’re way better with kids than I am.”

“You’re pretty good with Hoisuke."

“That’s because you haven’t seen him throw tantrums.”

You laugh, "oh don't worry, I have. I know all about his little fits. All my kids have one, at some point."

You say it lightly, but there's definitely love laced in your words and for a minute, Iwaizumi thinks back to the way Hoisuke kept on praising you, the way he spoke so affectionately about you.

"Do you still play volleyball?" You ask him while sipping on your drink.

He mimics the gesture, "sometimes. The guys are all over town so it's harder to meet up now."

"Dang, your team was so good though."

"It was Oikawa that held us together. We weren't that good," he tastes the bitterness of Karasuno's victory on his tongue.

"That's not true," you protest, fiddling with your empty glass, "the only reason why I watched Aoba Johsai's games was because I liked watching you play."

Dark coffee-coloured orbs sweep up to yours at that statement, as if trying to peel layers off yout shell, as if wanting to confirm the truth of your words. You feel like cowering away but you don't, instead holding his stare in hopes that he doesn't notice how your hands tremble slightly underneath his scowl.

And then, features softening ever so slightly, he murmurs out, "thanks."

You know he means it in the best way possible.

-----

One drink turns to two. And two multiplies by four. And soon enough you're tipsy off your head and singing so blatantly off-key you wonder why Iwaizumi's still by your side. You haven't been this drunk in ages and this sense of freedom makes you bold; you tug him to the dance floor to join your friends, order shot after shot as the music gets louder and your head gets lighter, proceed to blabber your mouth off about literally anything and everything that by the end of the night, you wish the ground would swallow you whole so you won't have to deal with Iwaizumi the next day.

You're not entirely sure how you find yourself being dragged by none other than the said man himself, or how your nose is currently lodged in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. But he smells good, like citrus and a mixture of mint and-- you sniff a little more -- is that cookie dough? Your mouth waters just at the thought.

"You smell like cookie dough," the words tumble out of your mouth in a jumbled mess and you inwardly feel like stabbing yourself.

So pathetic. Pitiful really.

"That's Hoisuke," Iwaizumi replies, surprisingly patient even when he's clearly not impressed, glaring at the lamppost ahead, "it's his flavour of the month."

"That's cute!" You giggle, "just like you, Iwa!"

The man sighs while shifting his grip upon your waist, "let's just get you to bed."

You probably doze off at some point or black out because the next thing you see upon opening your eyes next is the ceiling.

Hoisting your head up and groaning when your head pounds in warning, you lie back down as nausea takes over.

Shit. This isn't your room. You know that much.

What the fuck happened last night?

You remember dancing atop tables, remember spotting Iwaizumi by the bar and talking to him because he just seemed so sad and lonely. You remember dragging him onto the dance floor, dancing together, his hands on your waist--

You danced with Iwaizumi?!

The thought is enough to trigger another pounding. You groan once more, placing your hand atop your head in hopes that it will stop it from throbbing. It doesn't. But before you have more time to wallow in your self-pity, the door creaks open and your eyes almost pop out of your head when you spot a mop of brown spiky hair enter the room.

Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck. Your brain short circuits. Fuck fuck fuck.

Surprise crosses his face, clearly having not expected you to be awake yet. He walks over to place a glass of water by the nightstand and grabs your palm to tilt two aspirins into your hand.

"How's your head?" He asks.

"Fine," you wince. It's far from fine. In response, he holds out the glass and you gladly wash down the pills, warm and feeling suddenly vulerable under his stare.

Chewing onto the inside of your cheek, you muster up all your courage to ask, "what--happened last night?"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows shoot up, "you don't remember?"

"...no."

Is that amusement dancing in his eyes? You're not sure since it's gone just as quickly as it came before he says, "you got drunk. Danced on the table, had too many shots and made out with two different men--"

"I'm pretty sure the last part didn't happen."

"You said you didn't remember," he smirks lightly.

"I can't even flirt, let alone kiss strangers."

That earns you a chuckle from his part, causing your heart to flutter slightly as he straightens up, "you probably want to wash up. Bathroom's on the right. I'm in the kitchen if you need me."

"Okay," and as he turns away, you quickly add, "thanks, Iwaizumi-san."

He nods back, exiting the room and finally allowing you to collapse back against the bed to try slowing down your galloping heart. Jesus christ, you think to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings. From the lack of furniture and with only a few clothes flung over a wooden desk chair shoved in the right, you guess it's his room. A closed laptop and a small plant sits on his desk. On the left is the nightstand filled with sports books and some manga, a closet shoved in a corner and the floor is made in veneered wood.

There's no sign of family pictures, nothing that indicates the warmth of a cosy household. It doesn't take a genius to understand why. While Hoisuke had begged you not to tell his father, you weren't a stranger to the young boy sobbing in-between breaks because he misses his mother.

Well, it's not like you're allowed into family affairs anyway, as much as that breaks your heart.

After a much needed shower and a quick brush of your teeth -- you had to make do with using your fingers with his toothpaste, too embarrassed to actually ask him whether he had a spare toothbrush -- you walk out into the kitchen to see Iwaizumi already seated at a quaint wooden table laden with eggs and toast. Behind him sits the kitchen stove and white countertops next to a fridge fitting snuggly on the left corner. On the far right of the room is a large dark grey couch and a tv set, and just behind it is a small hallway which seems to be the entrance -- guessing by the coat rack and array of shoes. 

"Sunny side up or boiled?" Iwaizumi asks as you take a seat opposite him. He has already poured you a cup of strong coffee and you inhale before sighing in bliss. Your headache already feels slightly better.

"Anything is fi--" you're interrupted by his scowl, quickly changing your answer to, "sunny-side up please."

He grunts, passes you the plate and digs into his own fried eggs, the soft boiled ones forgotten at the centre of the table.

"Uhm, forgive me for point it out, but that's a lot of food Iwaizumi-san," you mumble out, not missing the way his features harden slightly.

"Force of habit," he mutters in-between mouthfuls. He doesn't need to say more, for you're pretty certain he's referring to the family he used to have, those lazy Sunday mornings that started out with brunch.

You eat in companionable silence and though it'a definitely less awkward than last night, your mind still races trying to figure out what to say to erase the permanent furrow between his brows.

Or is that his normal demeanour? To be honest, you're not quite sure yourself.

So you settle for thanking him for last night, to which he replies, "do you usually drink that much?"

"No," you duck your head, avert your gaze, "I got carried away. I'm really sorry."

"Well I wouldn't have expected my kid's teacher to be that wild," he muses while taking a bite of his toast.

Alarm zaps through you, making your eyes go wide, "I swear I'm not usually like that, really. I just--this was an exception--"

"It's fine, miss Y/N. I know," his brown pupils lock onto yours briefly, "I'm not going to report you."

"I--" nothing can really make up for your behaviour last night. You know that much, "still, I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate," you glance up, chest tightening at the intensity of his stare, unflinching. Unwavering.

He cocks his head at you then, a semblance of a smile along his mouth, "I was pretty entertained, if you ask me."

"Was I that bad?"

"No. But let's just say that you won't want to show your face around for the next week or so."

You groan and bury your face in your hands, "what did I do?"

"You might've broken a beer glass or two," he gives you a look, "on purpose. And tried to steal the Dj's headphones cause he wasn't putting the music you requested."

"Oh god," you want to bury yourself right then and there and to your surprise, you see him laugh softly before he nudges your coffee towards you.

"Drink," he orders, "it'll make you feel less shitty."

You're about to retort with a roll of your eyes, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. From the way Iwaizumi tenses, you know it's not just the mail man.

Excusing himself to go unlock the door as you twist in your seat to follow his figure, shock courses through you the moment your eyes land on Hoisuke's.

Then, his mother.

An alarm bell rings through your mind.

"I thought you said evening," comes Iwaizumi's grunt, totally unlike the guy who'd been chuckling a few seconds ago.

"Hoisuke wanted to come back early for some reason," the woman says, her gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment. It's enough to cause you to swallow hard. She continues, "I'll pick him up on--"

"Miss Y/N?!" Hoisuke shouts out suddenly and before you know it, you're being tackled into the child's arms as if you haven't seen each other forever, "what are you doing here?! Daddy!" he whips his head around in accusation, "you lied about not really really liking Miss Y/N!"

"Wha--No!" Iwaizumi yells as you frown in confusion, "huh?"

"Daddy said that really really liking someone means you wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend with them, like he was with Mama before she moved houses," Hoisuke blabbers on, totally oblivious to how the three of you keep on staring at him in growing alarm, "and then I asked him if he really really liked miss Y/N because I really really like miss Y/N but he said no, but that's a lie!"

"Hajime, what is he talking about?" His ex-wife is quick to narrow her eyes, "what have you been telling him?"

"Nothing, it's not what you think--"

"I think," she pointedly glances at you, "I should leave now. We'll talk about this later."

And with that, she swivels around and storms out, leaving the three of you to stare after her in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Hoisuke, oblivious to the sudden tension, blurts out, "daddy, why is Mama angry with you?"

----

The few weeks following the tiny incident that had resulted in an awkward misunderstanding between you, Hoisuke’s parents and the said child himself had caused you to retreat back into the shell of professionalism that included avoiding Iwaizumi whenever it was deemed possible. It hadn’t been hard since he was usually present and waiting outside class to pick up Hoisuke right on time, making it much easier to avoid conversation with him altogether. 

You’d texted iwaizumi right after reaching your humble abode the day he’d practically saved your drunk ass and though you spent a few spare moments to chat in-between the bustling activities of life, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still Hoisuke’s father, one of your dearest students. That, and the fact that you don’t really find it fair to put Hoisuke in-between the two of you, if there’s anything worth digging for anyway. 

Who are you kidding? It’s not like Iwaizumi would ever be interested in you in that sense. Having spotted his ex-wife once or twice proved that his style was of more refined women, the type that would drink wine instead of chug down beer and who’d enjoy gifts such as perfume and romantic dates instead of going on grocery trips and meal-prepping for the entire week. 

“Miss Y/N!” Hoisuke’s voice pierces through your thought bubble and your eyes quickly find his grin as he jumps towards your desk, "are you coming to our house this weekend too?!"

"Wh--What? Uhm-- no I don't think so--" eyes quickly flitting over the classroom, you're relieved to find that the rest of his classmates are long gone, "I don't think that's appropriate."

"But why? I even told Mama that I wouldn't be coming this weekend because you were," he pouted and it took all of your determination not to melt, until his words registered in your brain and your eyes widened, "o--oh, but that's--"

"Hoisuke?" You both turn to see his father's head poking through the door. Your body reacts instantly, warmth flooding through your limbs and flushing through your cheeks.

"Daddy!"

"H-Hello, Iwaizumi-san," you bow your head slightly. He returns the gesture, facial expression not giving anything away. His son bounds up to him with just as much vigor, "daddy, can we invite miss Y/N this weekend too?"

You might have laughed at Iwaizumi's shocked face if not for the fact that you are the person in question.

He splutters, "Miss Y/N has things to do--"

"But she came last weekend!"

"Yes well, it's bad manners to impose on someone when they're not free," Iwaizumi replies sternly, "come on now, we're gonna be late for Karate."

With a loud sigh and a scowl that resembles so much like his father, Hoisuke mutters out his goodbyes while Iwaizumi catches your eye, bowing slightly and muttering a silent "sorry" before he guides his son out of the room. You're glad he's out of earshot that he can't hear the stuttering of your heart against your chest.

You place a hand on your chest, sigh tiredly before looking down at your students' papers, "get a grip, Y/N," you mutter to yourself.

But it's not that easy to control yourself when Iwaizumi is making it so easy to like him.

----

Iwaizumi: sorry about yesterday. 

Y/N: it's okay. Hoisuke’s young, it's normal for him to want for a motherly figure around.

Iwaizumi's fingers drum over his knee as he watches with slight interest the newest male volleyball team practice their serves. He shouts after a few, calling them out for theit lazy postures, but other than that he can't seem to stop his thoughts from winding their way back to you.

"Who is she?" Mizune had asked him on the phone on the day following their encounter. Her tone was friendly, yet held that tone of warning that he was so accustomed to.

"How does that concern you?"

"I want to know who you're bringing around to hang out with Hoisuke."

"She's an acquaintance of mine," he paused, "and Hoisuke's teacher."

"That's inapropriate if you ask me."

Scoffing, he replied, "like what you did's so appropriate?"

A small pause ensued. When she spoke next, there was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

"You can't keep using that against me, Hajime."

"Don't tell me who I can or can't hang out with."

He'd hung up without bothering to wait for her response, seething and red hot with rage blubbering through his stomach.

Of course now that he thinks it over, Mizune has a point. Mixing the professional and the personal have never ended in happy endings. Not that this has ever stopped him before. He doesn't believe in what everyone else thinks is right. That's also one of the main reasons why Mizune couldn't handle it anymore. Or so she said before she went to suck someone else's dick.

His phone vibrates and fishing it out, a scowl instantly shadows his face upon seeing Oikawa's name flash across the screen.

Oikawa: Iwa-chan ~ have you asked her out yet?

Iwaizumi has to force himself to stay in control and not pound his phone to pieces when he types out his reply.

Iwaizumi: No.

Oikawa: BUT WHYYYY~ YOU SAID YOU FOUND HER CUTE.

Oikawa: and Hoisuke likes her. He already knows her.

Iwaizumi: I didn’t say that. And she's not interested.

Oikawa: Just because you suck at picking up cues doesn't mean she isn't throwing them at you 😏😏😏

Iwaizumi: shut up, shittykawa.

Oikawa: Just do it or I'll do it for you.

Iwaizumi: I don't even like her that way.

Oikawa: why'd you rant about not wanting to hurt her feelings yesterday night then?

Iwaizumi's hand rubs at his face with a groan. Oikawa's a little shit most of the time, but he's a perceptive little shit.

Oikawa: I mean it. Ask her out or I'll do it for you.

Oikawa: gotta go now. Match is starting. See ya!~ muah ❤

"Dumbass," Iwaizumi growls under his breath before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Easier said than done to ask someone out so casually, especially when she's Hoisuke's teacher.

If she accepts, great. If she doesn't, he'll have to suffer through humiliation for the rest of the year or avoid picking up Hoisuke altogether.

Oh fuck it.

He lets his body send the message before his brain can catch up to the way he has thrown himself under the bus, shoves his phone back into his pocket and tries to put the thought out of his mind even though the device suddenly feels hot and heavy in his pant pocket.

Iwaizumi: we're having takeout and movie night on Friday. You're free to join.

----

[dreamcatcherrs]

a high school prom au where the reader and Dream are like childhood best friends and the readers date shows up with someone else then when the reader feels all lonely, Dream is like “what if we danced🥺” ??? anyways love you and your fanfics you’re like my favorite writer on tumblr💖💘

+ this is such a cute concept! I’ve never written anything like this, but I hope it was what you wanted<3

++ also this is such an old request, I’m so sorry

prom night - dream

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: high school au! dream x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after being abandoned by your prom date, the person you expected the least to spend the night with asks you for a dance.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.501

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, swearing, slight mention of alcohol use.

song recommendation: love on the brain - rihanna

you couldn’t believe your eyes.

there your date stood, arm wrapped around a person that you for sure knew wasn't you. the excitement disappeared from every corner and edge of your body, hands falling to your sides in complete disappointment.

proudly, your so-called date stepped forward in line with a smile on their face, waiting to be the next for the photo shoot the had been set up. your smile was gone. and so was your passion for continuing this prom.

looking down, you turned on your heels, walking away from the great asshole of a date, and finding an empty seat by one of the available tables.

you’d wondered why it took so long for your date to arrive - you should’ve known, really. but no - now you were just left sitting alone by an empty table. what was the point of even being there anymore when all you could feel was loneliness?

everyone else was having fun, partying and smiling about the night ahead of them - just like you should’ve been. but now, you were just left with feeling disappointed in yourself. how could you make yourself believe that someone actually wanted to bring a date like you to the prom? what were you thinking?

you sighed deeply as you rested your head in the palm of your hand, other hand busy with tracing the cutouts on the table.

“just go over there, man!”

“yeah, they’re just sitting there all alone… this is your perfect chance!”

clay scratched the back of his head, staring down at the drink in his hand.

“I don't know… what if they say no?”

george and nick both rolled their eyes. the only one who really believed that was gonna happen would be clay. it was crystal clear to literally everyone else that the two of you had developed feelings for each other over the many years of knowing one another. clay would always brush it off with a “we’re just friends”, but really, he knew they were right.

he’d known you since he was 8 and you 7 - having been best friends since that day and until last year. you'd kinda… broken off since then. as you grew older, more important things had distracted you from keeping the connection, and eventually, you just slipped away.

he knew he liked you as more than a friend. but he was certain you didn't.

after all, you wanted to go with a complete dickhead, who ditched you anyway. and now look where you were.

“hey guys~ why are you wasting the night just standing here? let’s party!” karl slurred as he came crashing into george and nick, swinging both arms around their shoulder from behind.

as george was busy pushing karls’ arm off of him, and nick pulling him closer, clay’s eyes were only focused on you. you looked so… sad. no one should be sad on their prom night, and frankly, maybe his friends were right.

before he knew it, his feet dragged him across the dance floor, towards your place on the chair. george’s eyes widened, a big smile spreading across his face, showing off his braces.

“would you two stop flirting with each other and watch what is happening right now?”

nick and karl giggled.

“why, are you jealous gogy?” nick teased, causing a light shade of pink to brush across george’s cheeks.

“shut up-”

“hey.”

the second you broke away from your melancholy stare at the table, your heart started racing and a wave of sweat danced across your skin. he hadn't talked to you since… you couldn’t even remember the last time.

lifting your head off your hand, you sat up straight, watching as clay scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“hi,” you responded, voice quiet and unsure.

why was he talking to you all of a sudden? after all these months with absolutely no contact with each other, now he wants to talk to you? on the other hand, it’s not like you'd been very communicative with him either…

clay hesitated slightly, shifting on his feet. “why are you sitting here all alone? I thought you had a date?”

you sighed, corner of your lips turning down slightly. “yeah… they ditched me.” you looked away from him, feeling somewhat embarrassed that you'd let yourself get into a situation like that.

clay felt bad. how could someone let go so easily of someone as perfect as you? on the other hand, this meant that no one else could have you - and that made him kind of relieved.

he hesitated a little before speaking up again; “what a dickhead.”

that made you laugh a little. “yeah.”

silence approached after that, and a tension started building up. the both of you could feel the unspoken words you'd been keeping from each other rise up - yet you remained quiet.

after all, there wasn’t really anyone you could blame your fading friendship on - apart from yourselves.

clay cleared his throat, as a new, slower song came on, hand reaching out in front of him, hovering right before you. your eyes trailed along his tux-clad arm and up to his eyes, noticing the withheld love in them.

“do you wanna dance with me?”

you blinked at him, thankful that the fluorescent lights made it hard for him to see the blush on your cheeks. your heart felt as if it was pounding out of your chest.

“I-,” you stuttered, recollecting yourself quickly before placing your hand into his, fitting perfectly right into his palm. you smiled up at him softly. “I’d love to.” he smiled back to you, gripping onto your hand and lead you through the large crowd of people onto the dance floor.

he turned to you, taking in how absolutely breathtaking you looked right then. it was hard for him not to blurt out compliments at you at any given chance.

his hands found their place on your waist, and you let your hand snake around his neck, resting right where his haircut ended. it tickled him in a way that made him realise just how much he had missed your touch - hell, even talking to you reminded him of how lonely he’d felt without you.

slowly, the two of you swayed from side to side along to the song, just staring into each others eyes. clay sneaked a glance down at your lips, quickly averting his eyes again once you parted them.

“I’m really sorry we haven’t talked for so long,” you spoke, twirling a finger around one of his locks. “I miss it a lot. I missed you, clay.”

you stared at him with a look of guilt, biting down on your bottom lips once you'd finished your sentence. you looked down again, feeling sorry that you hadn't reached out to him before.

clay moved a hand to your cheek, tilting your head upwards so you'd look at him again. your eyes widened at the touch of his fingers, and you melted into his hand once his thumb bushed across the soft skin of your cheek.

“I missed you too, y/n. don't be sorry about that - I could’ve reached out too, y’know? we’re both guilty on that note. but, now that I can finally talk to you again, I don't wanna worry about the past, okay? I just want you to have a good night.”

you smiled softly at his words, feeling a wave of forgiveness wash over you. it felt good to know that you had your friend back again.

“I don't think my night can be ruined at this point,” you smiled, moving your hands from his nape to his shoulders instead.

“well, can I still make it a little bit better?” you raised an eyebrow at him, cocking your head to the side slightly.

his eyes fell down to look at your lips again, this time not being able to hold back from the temptation.

your lips attached to his.

and everything around you just stopped.

your eyes fluttered closed, leaning into the kiss once you realised what was happening, only making him pull you closer to him. his lips moved so gently, slowly against yours, a withheld desire finally being released.

who cared about the things that’d gotten in the way of your friendship? all that mattered right now was this very moment - that’s all that ever mattered.

“yes clay!”

“finally he fucking did it.”

the yelling coming from karl and nick from a distance away made the two of you break away from each other, turning your heads to the direction of them. george elbowed nick in the stomach to stop him from jumping into the air, revealing their spying spot.

you chuckled lightly at them, slowly turning your head back to clay with a lick of your lips. clay sent them a nice “fuck off” with his middle fingers, before also returning to the current situation and smiling at you widely.

“better now?”

you smiled wider at that. if only he knew.

______________________________________

tag list✰

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[redheadsinmybed]

A Gray Birthday

Chapter 1: Worst birthday ever

Grayson (Arcane) X Reader

Summary: A lonely 22nd birthday turns into a lifetime of memories you'll never forget. A story about your relationship with Grayson.

Notes: Hi guys back with a new pairing. I hope you enjoy it!! Let me know what you think :)

The Last Drop isn’t a place you usually find yourself in to get black out drunk. But today was different. Today is your birthday, your 22nd to be exact. 22 years of loneliness, 22 years of pining over various milfs, 22 years of rejection. This is why you find yourself in the Last Drop, the famous bar of Zaun.

Except today it seems oddly quiet. So quiet in fact that you realize you’re the only one in the bar. Well shit, not even drunks want to be with you on your birthday. Great now you can’t even get black out drunk because Vander isn’t here to pour the drinks. Although it’s probably best that you don’t drink right now. You have not had anything to eat today.

“Ugh, worst birthday ever,” You say as you lay your head down on the table.

“I would buy you a drink to make you feel better, but it seems that Vander isn’t here,”

Startled, you shoot up and swing your fist towards the sound of her voice. You’re surprised when your hand collides with a soft but firm hand stopping you mid punch. Your hair settles around your face and you see what you were about to punch. If you would’ve landed that punch it would have been the worst mistake you’ve ever made. She is beautiful. Those emerald eyes, those perfectly shaped eyebrows, and those lips that look so soft. Oh yeah, she’s also in an enforcer suit.

“Well that’s no way to greet someone who offered you a drink,” She says with a soft smile at the end. Oh what you wouldn’t do to kiss those lips or see her smile again. She releases your hand and you almost whimper at the loss of the softness in her hands. You snap out of it when she smirks, god you would probably still be staring at her if she hadn’t.

“Uh… Oh right, um I-I’m sorry, uh for hitting you, or I meant almost hitting you, I mean that would’ve been a mistake, cause like you’re so pretty and if I were to… Sorry I’ll stop talking before I embarrass myself even more,” You say. You know you must look like a tomato right now. Not only have you almost hit this woman who offered you a drink, but then you called her pretty, and to her face like a desperate whore. Oh god, did you really say that out loud? You are so in your thoughts that her laugh startles you.

“Oh dear, don’t be embarrassed. It’s not often I get such a charming comment from someone as beautiful as yourself,” She says with a wink. Oh. Oh god, did she just? Stop gay panicking, say something! Let’s be cool.

“Catch me, please,” You say as you start to feel lightheaded. Your vision starts to grow black and the last thing you see is forest green.

“Hello, honey please wake up,” You hear someone say. Their voice is to die for, you could listen to it all day. You hear her, what you think is her, sigh.

“If only I knew your name,” You hear her disappointment in her voice.

“Y/N. It’s Y/N,” You say as your vision comes back to you. She takes your breath away again.

“Y/N,” She says, you fall in love with the way your name sounds falling from her mouth.

“I’m Grayson. Are you okay?” Grayson asks. Grayson, that’s such a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t mean to pass out on you,” You say.

“That’s okay dear, I didn’t know whether to start CPR or do mouth to mouth so I took the latter,” Grayson says seriously.

“Oh, than- Wait, you-you,” You are so flustered right now. Laughter fills the air.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I only meant it as a joke, but you should’ve seen your reaction,” Grayson chuckles out.

“Oh my god, are you trying to make me faint again?” You say with a playful smile.

“Only if I can catch you again,” Grayson says with a grin. You two share a moment looking into each other's eyes before you hear the door open up. Grayson pulls you back onto your feet and stands beside you as Vi walks in. Vi is Vander’s adopted daughter. She is about your only “friend” that actually talks to you on a weekly basis. You’re almost positive that if you both weren’t gay that she would have never been your friend in the first place.

“Oh, sorry did I interrupt something?” Vi says looking at the two of you. Grayson clears her throat.

“I was wondering if you knew about Vander's whereabouts,” Grayson says. Her professional voice is so sexy.

“Uh yeah he’s over at Benzos,” Vi says.

“Okay thank you,” Grayson says to Vi. She looks back over at you and gives you a small smile.

“Well, I’ve got to go, duty calls. Goodbye Y/N,” Grayson says, putting her hat back on. She turns and makes her way to the door. This is your chance Y/N, now or never.

“Wait,” You say. Grayson stops and turns around, hope in her eyes.

“You still owe me a drink,” You say with a toothy grin.

“It seems I do. Are you free tonight?” Grayson asks you.

“Yes,” You say right away.

“Meet back here at 8?” Grayson suggests.

“Yes please,” You say back, mentally face palming.

“Alright, it’s a date,” Grayson says with a crooked smile. And then she’s gone and you’re left staring at the door.

[thirsty4theextraordinary]

Come on love, let’s get this freak-show on the road

I’ve been replaying Fallout 4 for like the 100th time recently and again I have fallen in love with Hancock all over again. So this is a little one-shot I wrote up last night that goes through how Hancock is feeling about the SS. 

Hopefully you guys like it. 

Pairing: John Hancock X Female Sole Survivor 

Tags: Fluff, nothing else just some sweetness. 

“To think I ever doubted you.” 

That was how he had started this, how he had got to where they were now. Of course, she seemed unfazed like nothing had changed. It had been days since their conversation on the side of the road. They had made camp at a local settlement of hers, or rather the Minutemen’s. She chatted idly to the settlers as they sat beside the campfire, unaware of his eyes on her. She had achieved such an amazing amount since coming off of ice. 

When they had first met, she had come strolling into Goodneighbour with Nick Valentine at her side. She was beautiful, and fresher-looking than any woman he had seen before. Like a poster of one of those pre-war movie stars. Of course, he was attracted, you would have to be blind not to be but he kept it to himself. And that vault suit hugged her curves aa though it were painted on.  

Once they started travelling together that’s when things had changed. Into something that he had never experienced before. She was kind, intelligent, cunning and not afraid to hurt those who needed hurting. He had had pre-existing ideas of what the Vault-dweller would be like in a fight and it was nothing like this. She had the reflexes of a trained killer, and as much as he had thought he would be the one protecting her, it was sometimes the other way around. He couldn’t count the number of times she had stimpak’d him mid-battle, just to turn and shoot his assailant in the face, as though it was nothing at all. 

The more they travelled together the more he fell for her. It wasn’t like him, John had always been a lone wolf, content with the occasional one nightstand. He had no problems finding lovers, even turning Ghoul hadn’t dampened his chances. The sexy King of the Zombies had no issues with the ladies. So why was he so hung up on the woman in a bright blue vault suit? 

It was one night, when they had stopped to make camp and he looked over at her sleeping form, that he fully understood, that what he felt wasn’t just simply lust, like usual. At first, it disturbed him, he wasn’t used to feeling like this, this intense feeling was scary. The womaniser in him denied these feeling of course and he told himself that the last thing she need was the love of a Ghoul. While he had never had trouble finding lovers, he knew that not all soft-skins were so inclined to his kind. He wasn’t sure he could take the rejection from her. He huffed to himself, she had turned him into a teenager again, nervous about asking out his first girl.  John Hancock was a confident flirt, never had he questioned himself before, but then never had he felt like this. She really was something else.  And yet he had never expected her to say what she did. 

He hadn’t expected the conversation to lead that way, he hadn’t even led it that way himself. He just simply wanted to let her know what a great friend she was, how impressed he was with her moral compass, deep down he wanted to be a little more like her. He felt it was only right that he shared, after all, she had been upfront since day one about her past, and what she was trying to do out here in the Commonwealth. But up until this point, he hadn’t really told her much about himself, only how he had become mayor and why he had wanted to leave. He had just wanted to share, to open up a bit. He hadn’t expected her to turn it on him like that. He had been telling her about what had happened at Diamond City. 

“I felt like I was the only one who saw how screwed up things truly were, who couldn’t just pretend things were fine. Still feel that way… or I did. Until I met you” He mentally scolded himself for that last part would she notice, question him. But she just kept listening politely, she hadn’t taken it for any more than just a declaration of admiration. No feelings attached. So with a smile, he continued. 

“I know I run my mouth, but having someone who sees the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it. It’s meant a lot to me. I feel damn lucky to have you as a friend.” 

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” the words had fallen from her mouth like they meant nothing, like she hadn’t just propositioned him. He couldn’t help the flutter that he felt in his stomach or that grin that spread across his face, he felt suddenly exposed, was she playing with him. But like aways, John use crude flirting and overconfidence to hide his nervousness. 

“Well, now that you mention it, I have been having slightly more impure thoughts than usual. Maybe we’ll get to…. act on those. Heh,” He had said to her. It wasn’t that he regretted saying it, after all, it was the truth. Watching her ass bounce in the vault suit, as she ran and few yards ahead of him as they travelled had undoubtedly been the inspiration for a few impure dreams. But did he want her to think that was all he had to offer? A few nights of passion on the road, just friends until they got into the bedroom. He wasn’t really sure what it was she wanted, maybe that was all she expected, after all, he did have a reputation. He told himself that with any other girl, especially one that looked like her, he would be happy. But as the days went past and he saw her save people who needed saving and take out those that threaten them, he knew he would never just been content with a sex only kinda deal. But it’s not like that had happened either since their talk nothing had happened. But it had been a tough few days, maybe she was simply worn out, he couldn’t blame. Or maybe it was all just meaningless flirting.  

“I’m off to bed, thanks for the drink Ben” she suddenly announced standing from her seat beside him, the settler nodded his head to her. She turned to John and bent down.

“Goodnight, Hancock,” she said sweetly before she placed a tender kiss to his cheek. He couldn’t help but turn his head and capture her lips. Just because she made him feel something new, didn’t mean he had forgotten all his moves. She squeaked with surprise at first but kissed him back nonetheless. He pulled away, shooting her his infamous grin. 

“You can call me John you know,” he told her and she smiled at him blushing pink. 

“Goodnight, John” she replied trying his name out and he smiled like a fool. No one called him that much anymore, but it sounded so sweet coming from her.

“Goodnight, Sunshine” he replied. His whole life he had been running but at that moment he knew, he could never run away from her.  

She stood fully and without another word headed off towards the small wooden shack that Ben had offered them for the night.  With his mind whirling he took off after her. He closed the door behind him and she looked up from where she was sat on one of the mattresses on the floor. She was going threw her pack, checking out ammo supplies and the like. 

“Hey, when you got time, I got something I still need you to hear,” he said as he perched himself in the rickety chair in the corner and pull the slightly smashed packet of cigarettes from his pocket. 

“Is everything alright?” she asked suddenly looking a little concerned. God, why did she have to look at him with those big beautiful eyes of hers? He took a breath.

“Oh yeah. Better than that. This is just… tricky” he began. Pushing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He offered her one silently and she took both the pack and lighter from him without a word, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. 

He found himself opening up to her again, telling her things only he really knew. Things he hadn’t really told anyone.  How he felt inside, not about her but about himself. He needed to know she understood, that she saw him for who he really was. All his self-loathing out in the open, the real John Hancock on full display.  How he was just running away, with no real destination in mind. She hadn’t just listened to him spill his guts she had consoled him. 

“You may have run, but you always ran for a reason,” she told him with a nod of her head. Hearing her say something like that from her, was like a warm shower, washing away his insecurities, his worries. 

“Been trying to convince myself of that for a long time, but hearing that coming from someone like you…. I don’t know if you understand what that means to me,” he said with a smile which she returned. Again he took a breath.

“So, lemme get to the point. Throwing in with you has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s like I found a part of myself I never realised was missing…. Which happened sometimes when you’re a Ghoul” there he was joking again, protecting himself. 

“If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by Radroaches. You have been one hell of a friend” He had used that word strategically, he hadn’t forgotten the stolen kiss they had just had but he needed to test the waters. 

“Have you ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?” she said her face serious. Was she testing him too? 

“Heh. It that obvious? But come on. You don’t want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.” it was honest, there were no sexual undertones, no joking. He was checking, he knew he could charm the pants off most girls in the Commonwealth but this was more than that, he wanted to check he hadn’t made a mistake. 

“Who I fall for is my decision. And I’ve fallen for you” she admitted with a smile and he swallowed hard. 

“Wouldn’t expect that kind of lapse in judgement from you. But I guess that works out for me then, doesn’t it?” he joked, mentally he scolded himself he should have told her how he felt. What she meant to him. But she giggled at his joke and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Heh. Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky.“ he said looking down at the lit cigarette in his hand, the long line of ash waiting to be flicked off. 

Her hand entered his peripheral vision and he looked towards her. She had thrown her cigarette away and she was holding her hand out towards him. He threw his cigarette out the hole in the shack wall and took her hand. She pulled him to sit in front of her. Her beautiful eyes staring into his soul.  

“Look John, I know you joke to protect yourself. But I’m going to be honest now” she said and he blinked his heart beating out of his chest, she was going to tell him that he meant nothing to her. 

“When I said I fallen for you” she began, he knew what was coming”

“I really meant it” she breathed holding his hand a little tighter. He let out a breath he hadn’t know he was holding. She meant it?

“I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone before,” she said and he smiled so brightly it hurt his cheeks.

“I love you too, Sunshine,” he said and she smiled.

“But I want to check what that means to you. What I mean is, I don’t one-night stands or friends with benefits. I’m either in all the way or not at all.  So what do you say?” she said her voice far less confident than he was used to hearing from her. Had she been having all the same thoughts as him? God, he was a fool. 

“You don’t know how happy you make me, saying stuff like that. With you, I’ve found the person I was meant to be with. My missing piece. I don’t want to ever be without you. So you wanna make this thing official?” he asked and she smiled so brightly he could feel the warmth of it. 

Without a word, she leant forward and captured his lips in a kiss he wouldn’t ever forget. It was passion-filled but loving, with a swift movement he pushed her back so she was lying, her back on the mattress and he hovered above her. He looked down at her grinning like a teenager, who had just seen his first boob. She giggled before she leant up and captured his lips in another loving kiss. 

[misslovasstuff]

Troublesome jealousy

Dazai x reader

“Are you serious? I’d never!”- you slightly push Dazai away as he whispers his plan to you.

“You have to, belladonna.” - he claims, pretending to be disappointed. Like, his little mind can think of a hundred of ways how we can do this differently but nooo... He wants you to go there and seduce the guard.

“Yeah right. This is just for your entertainment isn’t it?”- You cross your arms in disbelief.

As Dazai opens his mouth to reply, a certain noise captures his attention. He touches your lip with his index finger, singnaling you to keep quiet. The warehouse’s door which you were desperate to get in was just opened by a young man who held fire guns and wore dark shades. 

“There he is. You should go now.”- Dazai whispers and you shook your head.

“I’ve never met such a headstrong woman before. - he rubs his temple with a sigh. -Do you want me to go and seduce him myself?”

“What the...no!”- you groan in anger - Fine! I’ll go.”

Dazai smiles at the sight of you, getting your hair into a ponytail. Raising your hands up caused your shirt to raise as well, exposing a bit of your tummy. Dazai couldn’t help but stare, eyes dancing happily all over your body.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” - he says while leaning in to kiss your neck. “Shh, concentrate now. Did you enable your michrophone?” - you push him away, containing yourself from smiling.

Dazai nods but he stays with his arms open, asking for a hug. You sigh but give in to him once you catch a glimpse of that adorable pouty face of his.

Once you’re in his embrace, his hands slowly travel down your back, touching places he was accostumed to touching. 

“Dazai, - if you didn’t pull him into his senses, the situation might have agreviated. - Do you want me to go or ah~

A love bite of his makes your legs tremble.

“Fine then, - he kisses your cheek and claps his hands, - you go love! Hear me through the microphone I implented on the back of your neck.”

You nod to him, a bit scared and a bit ashamed.

You start walking towards the warehouse building. Every step seemeed heavier than the previous one. 

There stood the man, watching you approach him.

“Seduce him? What even am I supposed to do?” 

You turn your head back and notice Dazai smirking. That expression annoyed you to the core.

What kind of boyfriend is he? Sending me to seduce other men?

“Damn it.” - you cuss under your breath.

Lowering your head from the shame, you remember the reason why you’re here in the first place. This is your mission and you had to succeed.

Clenching your fists, you control your embarrassment and raise your head up.

“Since we’re doing this, - you smirk at Dazai from afar which leaves him confused, - might as well give it my all.”

A wave of confidence conquers your being as you walked towards your stage that was about to leave a certain audience member a bit irritated.

“Oh my!- pretending to almost trip, you tear apart a bit of your skirt. Your dress outfit wasn’t exaggerated, but you made it look that way. - can I get some help please?”

He points his gun at you. Dazai watches from his hiding place. He furrows his eyebrows but still waits for you to take action.

Raising your hands up, with a smirk on your face, you laugh. A sweet and innocent laughter that would make any man vulnerable. 

“Come on now, I’m here for just a little fun~

Your soft voice made the guard lower his gun. You bite your lip and approach him.

“You know, - you walk slowly to the young guy, pulling his collar. - I’m a very lonely woman.”

The guard stutters at the sight of your half exposed chest pressing against his. Your blushed cheeks added to his excitement. His hands start to travel behind your back. 

Meanwhile, Dazai’s a bit uncomfortable at the sight. What he meant by ‘seduce’ was just a word play. He’d thought you wouldn’t do it and then he’d take action. Little did he know that his girlfriend was such a tease.

You exedeed his expectation. His face darkened and there was a hint of possesivenes. Truly speaking, Dazai was posseive only when it came to you and seeing this whole scene in front of him, made his eyes shoot posion arrows to the guard’s hands which were touching his precious.

 With a stoic voice, Dazai spoke through the microphone:

“Alright that’s enough. Use your ability.”

You heard him loud and clear but you didn’t stop.

“I’m desperate to be touched, you see...”- you move your hands all over your body, letting out some small moans.

The guard scans you from head to toe and smirks:

“A beauty like you shoulnd’t feel this way, miss. May I be of help to you?”

The guard brushes off your lips and Dazai loses it. You were playing a very dangerous game. Dazai was not the type to play around, at all. 

“Y/n I swear if you let him touch you one more time!”

He was growing impatient. The hands of another man all over your body, and those words of yours was making his blood boil. 

You cupped the guards face while he pulled you closer by the waist.

“I’m in need of a good man.”- You whisper to the guard’s ear but it was loud enough for Dazai to listen from the other side of the microphone.

That was it, he had reached his limit. 

“Y/n, didn’t you hear what I said, love?” - oh gosh, his tone of voice made you shiver in pleasure. Loving but in such agressive way, you had made him angry and it was a sight to behold once you ended your little scheme.

“Someone who doesn’t send me to seduce other men, at least.” - you shout at the microphone and activate your ability, making the man in front of you uncouncioness.

Once he’s down, Dazai starts walking towards you while you were fixing your outfit.

“Oh don’t even bother Y/n, - he grabs you by the wraist, - that outfit of yours will be shred to pieces later.”

“Why are you angry? Didn’t I do well?”

“Too well in my opinion. But that wan’t part of the plan.”

“Part of your plan you mean? I thought my orders were to seduce, right?”

Dazai sighs, then grabs your face with his large hand.

“Don’t do this to me again.” - he pushes his lips against yours but a cough interrupts your ongoing romance.

“Oh right, we have a mission to accompllish.” - Dazai smirks, looking at the enemy in front of you.

“If you weren’t so troublesome...”

“I love it when you call me that.”

[eldritchqueerture]

Hello! This is a project for @summer-in-the-archives-event that I worked on with @horizonindigo! We came up with the idea together and based our individual works around the poem I wrote, included in the fic. You can find their absolutely amazing art here!!

I freaking loved working on this one and I got more and more excited as we progressed. I also surprised myself with the poem itself a bit, definitely didn’t expect it to end up quite as cool, if I may say so myself. It was incredibly fun to write.

Big shoutout to @sunflowers-and-frogs for beta reading, I love you bestie <3

I would like to thank all the mods that made this event possible! It’s my first time taking part in anything like this and it was really, really fun, so THANK YOU <3 Love you guys :3 Anyways, enough of my rambling kdfjgkjsdfg

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical The Lonely Content (The Magnus Archives), Kissing, Excessive Tea-Making, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Poetry, Love Confessions Warnings: self-esteem issues, typical Lonely content, discussions of free-will and determinism, graphic kiss

Summary: As Martin fights the remnants of the Lonely's influence on their ride to Daisy's safehouse in Scotland, he focuses on his feelings for Jon to keep him tethered to reality. He watches Jon be himself in the safety of the cottage, share these small intimacies of domesticity and the words come to him as a poem weaves itself into the pages of his notebook...

He feels the taste of salt in his mouth, as he looks out of the car window at the rapidly falling away landscape, covered in the darkness of the night. He feels Jon’s presence next to him, focused on driving but glancing every so often at him with concern. Martin feels like he should say something, somehow fill the silence that has befallen them, but no words ever find their way to his mouth. He stays quiet, watching the trees pass them by, trying to ignore the anxious churning in his stomach. He’s always been pretty good at filling awkward silences with chatter; at least before the Lonely. Now… he can’t help but feel bothered by Jon’s presence, even though he did all of this for him, even though this is what he’s wanted all this time; it’s like a splinter, prickling at his mind, almost causing him physical discomfort. He swallows and feels the salty taste on his tongue; he discards the thoughts and tries his best to breathe through the discomfort, instead focusing on the sensation of Jon’s warm hand on his.

Martin used to be the warm one; he’d always been generating heat and his mind goes back to the early days in the Archives when the basement was cold in the winter and both Tim and Sasha used to gravitate towards him with their respective cups of tea during breaks. Now his whole body is cold, the chill of the ocean breeze and fog having settled in his bones so deep he thinks he’ll never feel warm again. The thought isn’t sparking any emotions in him though. It’s just a thing that he’s learned to accept, just as the fact that he’ll always be alo—

“Do you want me to put on some music?” Jon asks with another one of his glances. Every time, he raises his eyebrows a bit, and tilts his head to the side; Martin expects the concern in his eyes, but he sees something else there as well. He’s been afraid to put a label to the expression for the fear he’s reading him wrong, but the bolder part of his mind tells him it’s fondness.

Jon’s hand is warm, and his thumb grazes the skin of his palm just a little, as if not sure he’s allowed to. Martin looks down at their hands and feels warmth spark in his stomach; he smiles.

“I’m sorry I’m—I’m not really good at the whole, uh… small talk thing,” Jon adds with a flush, turning his head back to the road. “I should probably be talking about something, though, to, uh… to keep you here. I suppose.” He visibly cringes at his words.

“It’s—It’s fine, Jon,” Martin chuckles, and Jon relaxes, fixing him with a quick smile of his own. “I’m just… you know.” He looks down at their hands again and has a brief feeling they belong to someone else. Not him. Never him. “I’m not quite… out of that. Yet.”

Another look of concern. Martin feels heat prickling at his cheeks and he’s a little bit glad, because at least it’s a feeling. He interlaces their fingers and looks out the front window.

They spend the ride in relative silence. Jon tries a couple more times to start small talk and fails; they stop at a gas station at one point and Martin takes out his notebook when Jon disappears inside the station to pay for gas. He flicks through it and his eyes stop at an unfinished draft; he started writing it shortly before Peter took him down to the Panopticon, but he’d only managed to get a few first lines down. Despite still feeling the cold in his bones and his mind being clouded by the remains of the fog, words come to him, and he starts scribbling. He continues to do so even when Jon comes back with tea and an assortment of snacks, blushing just a little bit when Jon shoots a curious look at the notebook. He doesn’t ask and Martin is thankful for it. He’s not the sort to show his drafts to anyone, especially to the subject he’s writing about.

It’s 1am when they arrive at the cottage; they’re both exhausted and they quickly take their bags inside and lock the door. The cottage is small and practical, just Daisy’s style; it’s also quite dusty from months of abandonment. Martin yawns as he opens one of the bags to get the essentials. They should leave unpacking and cleaning for the next day.

He hears Jon’s footsteps on the wooden floor coming back from the initial run of the house and he turns to tell him that, but the somewhat sheepish look on his face stops him in his tracks. Has he ever seen Jon look sheepish before?

“So, uh, obviously this was Daisy’s safehouse when she was, well… Avoiding people,” he says, not meeting Martin’s eyes.

“I hope ‘avoiding people’ doesn’t mean killing them in this context,” Martin snorts, not sure if he’s entirely joking. The humour is lost on Jon, however, as he looks at him confused for a moment before he processes Martin’s words.

“Oh, no, no, I-I don’t believe she, uh… She just slept here.” Jon shifts awkwardly. “And that means there’s uh, there’s only one bed.”

Martin’s eyes widen and his lips form a little “Oh”.

“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with sharing, I can just take the couch, you need some proper rest and I’m used to running on low sleep” —Jon averts his gaze as he speaks. He grabs his bag and walks over to the couch, and Martin wants to stop him talking and just say that they should share the bed, but his voice seems to have left him at this crucial moment. He just stares as Jon places the bag on the couch and looks back at him, aware of the silence. “Martin?”

Martin swallows, a familiar cold freezing his toes. He feels the damp sand underneath his bare feet and a chill runs down his spine. He blinks and tightens his grip on the bag he’s been holding. This is real, he is real, Jon is real.

“You need good rest too,” he finally manages to say, and he’s surprised by how clear and normal his voice sounds; it makes Jon relax a bit. “We should share the bed, if-if you are comfortable with that.”

A small smile appears on Jon’s lips and a warm feeling fills Martin’s stomach again; he knows the smile is for him.

“Okay,” he says softly and picks the bag up.

They manage to keep the awkwardness of it to the minimum; they’re both very tired and at one point it just doesn’t matter anymore. Jon hands Martin a separate blanket and he pushes the disappointment down into a void inside him where he keeps feelings to come back to when he’s alone. It would be foolish of him to hope for cuddling since they haven’t talked about anything yet.

He expects to fall asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, but he finds himself awake in the darkness after goodnights are said (Jon’s voice sounds so soft and tender Martin has forgotten all about his earlier disappointment). He’s laying on his back, eyes closed, and he feels Jon’s presence on his right. His breathing is steady, not yet slow enough to indicate sleep, but calm and relaxed. Martin peeks out through half-lidded eyes – he hasn’t gotten used to the darkness as much yet, but he can see Jon laying on his side, facing him, his eyes closed and his hair loosely framing his face. One of his hands rests close to his head on the pillow. Martin blinks, fully opening his eyes now and smiling softly. As his vision clears, Martin notices Jon frowning ever so slightly, and he wonders if the faint lines between his eyebrows smoothen when he’s asleep.

“Is watching people sleep a usual activity for you?” Jon whispers with amusement as he opens his eyes and Martin gasps with surprise and looks away, feeling heat prickle at his cheeks.

“Wha—uh, no! No, of course no—Sorry, I—” He rambles, and he thinks he might just die from embarrassment when he hears Jon laugh quietly.

“It’s fine, Martin.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “Really. I-- Sorry, I thought a joke would, um… lighten the mood somewhat.”

Martin risks a look at him and wonders if the red on his cheeks is visible through the darkness. Jon looks at him with that expression again, something Martin would very much want to classify as fondness if it didn’t feel so impossible. But now that he thinks about it… Would it really be thatfar-fetched? Jon had gone into the Lonely just to get him out. Would he have done that for anyone else? Martin rolls his eyes at himself in his mind, of course he would. He did go into the Buried, and it was for Daisy, a person who has threatened him multiple times, kidnapped and almost killed him. If Jon was ready to lay down his life for her, out of all of them, it shouldn’t be surprising he would do the same for his assistant; it says nothing about his feelings on the matter.

Martin’s memories of the Lonely are hazy. He remembers the cold, the dampness, and the loneliness. He remembers his thoughts, the lonely ones, and how they felt both alien and familiar at the same time. He remembers the comfort, the feeling of fitting in, but also the pain and the fear, just before they were numbed by the cold and the fog that made him forget. And then suddenly, Jon was in front of him, looking at him with desperation on his face, tears in his eyes glowing with a green light. Was it Jon calling for him, or just the Beholding?

“What are you thinking about?” comes Jon’s voice and Martin realizes he’s been staring into the air for a while. He blinks and looks back at Jon.

“Uh…” He searches for words before he gives up on trying to come up with an excuse. His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Why did you do it?”

Jon blinks at him a couple times and rises to lean on his elbow, to better look at Martin.

“What do you mean?”

“The Lonely,” Martin says, not meeting his eyes. Jon is wearing a blue t-shirt with a logo of a band Martin doesn’t recognize; the shirt is loose and it uncovers one of Jon's shoulders which would probably be distracting if Martin’s mind wasn't chilled by the remnants of the fog. “Why did you come for me?”

Even without looking at him, Martin sees Jon’s forehead ripple. A while passes as Jon searches his face and the thought that he shouldn’t have asked starts creeping up to Martin’s head. Shouldn’t have brought any attention to the subject, he should just be glad, he should—

“I care about you, Martin,” Jon says in a very gentle and quiet voice, like he’s afraid anything louder would take away the meaning of his words. Martin looks up at Jon and the hint of that intense blush from before makes it back to his face. “You’re… You matter to me. You will always matter to me.”

Martin can’t stop a small smile appearing on his face and Jon mirrors it.

“Thank you,” Martin whispers, feeling a warmth settle in his chest, finally driving the cold away.

“Anytime.” Jon lays his head back down and settles back with the right hand near his face. “Sleep well, Martin.”

Martin closes his eyes contentedly and he curls up on his right side, facing Jon, as if trying to keep this warm feeling from escaping his chest too soon.

“You too, Jon.”

---

Martin wakes up alone in an unfamiliar bed, the smell of foreign covers filling his nostrils and for a second he panics. He opens his eyes and the memories come back to him; their late arrival at the safehouse and laying down to sleep next to Jon.

He sits up, looking at the space Jon had occupied. It’s vacant now, just the curled up covers he left behind, but it manages to bring a blush to Martin’s cheeks, nonetheless. It feels so… intimate to know that they slept next to each other. It makes him feel warm and cosy.

Martin gets up and goes to the bathroom before he finds Jon in the kitchen. He’s humming quietly as he finishes cleaning the table and he looks up when Martin enters.

“Good morning, Martin.” He smiles and Martin’s afraid he’s going to melt. He takes a quick look around and notices that their sparse kitchen supplies are mostly unpacked, and the kettle is already on the stove.

“How long have you been awake?” He asks; some of the shock must have made it to his voice because Jon looks amused.

“Two hours or so. I’ve always been a morning person.” He shrugs and finishes cleaning the table. “Tea?”

A smile lights up Martin’s face and he gets swept up by the familiarity of the activity, while Jon busies himself with fixing up some breakfast. As both of them work in the kitchen, Martin notices the casual brushes of their skin and touches of the shoulders. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it consciously or if it just happens naturally, but he knows that Jon’s open demeanour is drawing him closer than before. He wonders if he’s been like this ever since he woke up from the coma, and there was just no one to appreciate it.

The morning is relaxed, the casual conversation flowing a lot smoother than the day before, and after breakfast they set out to clean the whole cottage and go down to the village to buy some actual supplies. The village is small, but the local shop provides all the essentials they need; for a moment Martin forgets about everything outside of that village and shopping for groceries with Jon, as if this is their life now, in the Scottish Highlands, living together in a cottage. They talk about cooking dinner, and the cows they passed on the way, and Martin thinks he could get used to that.

The bubble bursts when they finish up and Jon decides to call Basira. She picks up after a while and updates them on the absence of both Jonah Magnus and Daisy. Basira says she’ll send some statements up to them when the Institute stops being an active crime scene, and a shadow passes over Jon’s face. Wrapped up in a conversation about their taste in dinner dishes, it was almost too easy for Martin to forget food isn’t the only sustenance Jon needs. He finds it easier to forget things ever since the Lonely. They walk back to their cottage in silence, Martin grabbing Jon’s hand as soon as he lets go of the phone.

When they get back, Jon declares he’s going to take care of unpacking and cooking, and even though Martin knows Jon to be stupidly stubborn, he’s surprised by the strictness with which Jon insists he sit back and relax. Martin doesn’t really complain; he’s spent his entire life caring for others and, to be honest, it does feel rather good to be on the receiving end for once. He watches Jon from the couch for a while, before he takes out his notebook and looks over the poem he wrote in the car.

Wisps of mist conceal my eyes

A lone indulgence to lose one's face

And soothing a part inside that cries

With chilling sadness and numbing grace

The steadfast rhythm of waves ashore

As ocean breeze leaves a taste of salt

The words forgotten, erase what I swore

Until I hear your voice once more

I wondered many times what it might be

That we finally took to calling "us"

What would be left if we broke free

Of dread and horror's eternal grasp

The Eye looms aloft, ever-present dread

Watching all, eternal lids apart

You made your choice unaware you were led

By strings of web, against your heart

Jon starts humming under his nose in the kitchen as he cuts something on the board; the water in the kettle boils slowly and fills the air with a quiet whistle. Martin smiles while shooting a subtle glance at Jon; he seems to notice his gaze and falls quiet, but a smile lights up his face when he sees the fondness on Martin’s face. For all this talk about Jon “losing himself” in the role of the Archivist, this seems as human as you can get. Martin never favoured the approach the other archival staff took to the knowledge of the significance of Jon’s position, and he often wondered how they could look at him and see a monster. Of course he made bad decisions, but so did everyone. They’ve seen or read about so many avatars giving into the powers that fed them and yes, maybe Martin is biased, but Jon was nothing like them. They’ve all been caught in this huge web of statements that turned real; the more they struggled to break free the more tangled up they became, and it wasn’t Jon’s fault that he ended up in the centre of it. He knows Jon tried to make right choices every step of the way. Can you really blame a human being for failing to completely resist something that’s beyond mortality and human reality? One way or another they ended up here, together, and yes, maybe the Eye and the Lonely are still looming as very tangible threats, and Jonah Magnus is nowhere near being stopped, but at least they’re together now. Martin remembers thinking the Unknowing was the endgame, the last chapter of this horror for them, and he remembers the hopelessness of their story getting a bad ending that essentially pushed him into the Lonely; now he feels a different kind of an end approaching – he dares to be hopeful. Maybe everything works out in the end? Maybe, if they were safe and happy, it wouldn’t actually be the end of the world.

Martin looks down at his notebook and starts writing, sticking the tip of his tongue out in concentration.

What is a monster? Where is the line

That would separate us from the world

All I know is our paths align

And we together can battle the cold

You cut through the curtains of mist and See

The green glow fades when our eyes meet

My lips form a soft and quiet plea

To be loved has never felt so sweet

To be loved is a new feeling for me

I only know how to love from one side

But with you I hope we can once be free

Maybe ignore the whims of the tide

Although I know we're not nearly through

I taste and savour your voice, your breath

If only for a moment, we can start anew

And I will follow you even to death

As he stares at the last word of the finished poem, his hand with the pen hovering over it, he registers that his eyes have watered a bit. He blinks the tears away quickly as Jon sits down on the couch next to him, looking at him with a gentle worry. Martin looks up at the two mugs of tea he’d placed on the table.

“Did you make tea?” He asks with mock bewilderment, and Jon scoffs at him.

“I know how to make tea, Martin.” He nudges him with amusement, that gentle worry not quite gone from his eyes. “What are you writing about?”

Martin falls quiet, pressing the notebook to his chest in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Thought you didn’t like poetry,” he huffs out a laugh that’s only a little bit self-conscious. Jon shrugs, reaching out for his mug and taking a sip.

“I don’t understand it. And yes, I have been known to dislike it at times, but… Maybe I could be swayed to give it another shot.” Jon rolls his eyes fondly and looks at Martin out of the corner of his eye, a look that says ‘for you’. Martin grins, heat pricking at his cheeks once again.

“You see, i-it’s all about emotion.” He places the notebook gently on his lap face down and reaches for his own mug. “You w-want to put all of your emotions into words in a-an artistic way, that has a rhythm and, uh, and feels alive. And you want your, uh, your readers to feel that, that emotion through your words.”

Jon listens attentively and his eyes aren’t leaving Martin’s face; at one point Martin gets distracted by it and forgets where his explanation was going. Jon’s gaze has always been intense, in different ways throughout the time they’ve known each other. At first it was judgemental, the gaze of his boss, full of unmet expectations; then it was piercing, watchful and suspicious; as time passed, it seemed to gain more and more weight of the Beholding, something Tim always complained about. After Martin had joined Peter Lukas, the rare glances he got from Jon were full of yearning that Martin didn’t understand at the time; didn’t want to understand. Now, it’s that gentle fondness, interweaved with something intangibly sad and Martin feels an urge to hug him, to bring him close to his chest and never let go; to bury his face in Jon’s hair and protect him.

They move to place their mugs at the table at the same time and snort, amusement quickly turning into a fit of laughter. Jon throws his head back a little with it and Martin wonders if he has ever seen him laugh so openly before. He didn’t think it was possible for him to fall in love with the man even more, but once again, his heart proves him wrong. He stares at him with a lovestruck expression and thinks they should really talk about it. Martin doesn’t know where to start though and Jon seems to be thinking in a similar direction because his expression shifts into gentle seriousness.

“Martin, I…” He starts and bites his lip. “I need to apologize.”

Martin straightens a little; it’s not exactly what he expects.

“I—The way I used to treat you…” Pain and guilt flash through Jon’s face as he looks away for a moment to gather his thoughts. “It was not okay. None of it was okay. And I’m—I’m really sorry for that. It doesn’t—I know it doesn’t change anything that happened, but I” —he sighs. “I really am sorry. I hope I can, somehow, uh… somehow make it up to you.”

Martin reaches for Jon’s hand, and he looks down in surprise; Martin sees his eyes start glistening.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened to you.” He continues in a whisper and his eyes are locked on their touching hands. “I’m so sorry about the Lonely. I’m sorry that you’re trapped in all of this with me, and I would understand if you decided to leave—”

“Jon.” Martin squeezes his hand and Jon’s eyes shoot up to look at him.

“I’m sorry, that’s not an apology,” he sighs again. “I just… I’m sorry, Martin. About everything.” His other hand grips Martin’s. “I’m glad you are still here. I’m—I’m so glad, you d-don’t even know,” he laughs.

“I think I do.” Martin smiles gently. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve—I've forgiven you for a lot of it a long time ago. A-And the rest just isn’t your fault.”

Jon frowns.

“The Lonely was always there,” Martin shrugs. “Peter Lukas was just… a catalyst, I think. But now I have you.” His finger grazes the outside of Jon’s palm and his heart flutters in his chest when he sees that small smile appear on Jon’s face. “And you can’t be blamed for Elia—Jonah’s games. We’re all just… a bunch of people who didn’t know what was going on until it was too late.”

Jon’s eyes fall as he nods slightly.

“He’s still up to something,” he says quietly.

“Figures,” Martin laughs bitterly. “But we’re here now. And frankly, I don’t really want to think about him when we’re finally…” The word ‘together’ gets stuck in his throat, as if it would breach this fine line of ambiguity they’ve drawn between themselves. Jon seems to fill it in and his eyes land back on Martin.

He’s never wanted to kiss him more than he does right now. Jon's eyes are wide and glistening with something that looks suspiciously like hope, and his fingers gently graze the outside of Martin's palm. Warmth spreads in his chest and his eyes flutter a little, not breaking the eye contact. He wants to pull Jon close to his chest, to run his fingers through his hair and feel his breath on his own skin. To really feel like he's there, next to him, with him.

Before he can follow through with any of that, something sizzles in the kitchen, loud in the silence, startling them both.

“Food!” Jon chuckles slightly before he jumps to his feet and rushes to the kitchen, while Martin snorts and follows him. Jon stirs the pan with curry and sighs with relief when he sees it's not burned. He turns down the heat anyway and checks on the rice.

“Jon, this smells amazing,” Martin says, peeking into the pan with cheese and spinach. “I didn't know you could cook.”

“Well, contrary to the popular belief I was a functional human being. For a while,” Jon snorts and leans against the counter to look back at Martin. “It's Palak Paneer, my grandma taught me when I was a child.”

“It looks fantastic,” Martin grins, and Jon rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.

Even though the moment's lost, the remains of the feeling can be felt between them as they prepare the plates and take the food to the table. They easily fall back into usual chatter and, as soon as they’re finished, Martin jumps to wash the dishes. Jon relents after extensive affirmations from Martin that he's alright and he can definitely take care of a couple dishes in the sink, and he drops onto the couch with a content sigh instead.

Martin finishes up with the dishes and dries his hands on a towel.

“Do you want some tea?” He asks and hangs the towel back on the rack. When there's no response, he turns to the couch. “Jon?”

Something sinks in his stomach when he sees that the object that consumes Jon’s attention is the poem he’s finished; he scratches his neck, as his cheeks take on a pink tinge. “Oh…”

He walks up to the couch, unsure, trying to gauge Jon's reaction. His face seems tense, he squeezes the notebook in his hand so hard his knuckles go white, and his eyes are focused at one point on the page.

“Um... Jon?” Martin asks weakly, his heart drumming in his chest so loud he's sure both of them can hear it.

Jon jumps to his feet, startled, and looks up at him with eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights. Martin instinctively raises his hands in a placating gesture, as Jon registers his presence, looks down on the notebook in his hands, and quickly puts it on the table as if it stung him.

“Martin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look, it was just there and—”

“Hey, Jon, it’s alright!” It’s maybe a little not alright, since the poem is nothing short of a love confession and a wish Martin had no right to assume would ever be true, so Jon reading it is less than ideal. Martin rushes to gently place a hand on Jon’s shoulder but when he recoils from the touch, Martin withdraws his hand, cursing everything about himself.

“No, I, uh…” Jon runs his hand through his hair, eyes darting between Martin, his hand, and the notebook frantically. “I shouldn’t have— uh, it’s—it’s your private business, what you write about, so—”

Martin is sure he’s tomato red on the face by this point and hopes against hope that the afternoon light filtering through the curtains obscures it just a little. Jon, on the other hand, doesn’t have the embarrassed blush that usually darkens his cheeks; instead he breathes fast, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Martin sees him hunch just a little, making himself smaller.

“Um, yeah, I, uh—” He starts fidgeting with his fingers. Did the idea of—of love frighten Jon so much? He was stupid to leave it out in the open and now Jon knows, and it’s not how he feels, so he hates him… “I’m sorry.”

Jon’s eyes snap to him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“For what?”

Martin huffs out something like a pained laugh.

“Th-That’s not exactly how- how I wanted to tell you.” He wrings out his hands and shoots Jon a pleading look. What’s done is done and the only thing he can hope for is for Jon to let him down easy and never speak of this again.

“Tell me?” Jon looks down at the notebook again and there’s the worry again, stark on his face. He breathes out, slowly, and looks at the floor. “I don’t—I don’t even want to think this is a possibility…”

Martin doesn’t need to imagine what it would be like to be stabbed, if he wanted to - he’s pretty sure the acute pain of his heart shattering in his chest is close enough. His mind tries to catch up to the emotions, slow them down just a bit, because something seems off, and isn’t this a weird way to reject someone you must have known had a crush on you? But his throat tightens with the swell of pain and shame and Martin blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes.

Jon sighs and plops down on the couch, hiding his face in his hands and pushing his glasses up to his forehead.

“We d-don’t have to talk about it, if—if you don’t want to,” Martin says quietly. He sits down next to Jon, careful not to touch him in any way, and puts his hands between his knees.

Jon lets out a bitter laugh.

“Isn’t that what they—the Web would want? Just… mindlessly follow, go with the flow until something… irreversibly bad happens?”

Martin turns to Jon with a frown.

“Wh—What?”

Jon looks at him with something glistening in his eyes and Martin can see the lines of pain and misery written on his face like they belong there.

“The web,” he says faintly. “Strings of fate. I—” He lets out a breath. “Was I just being manipulated this whole time? Was I ever really—Did I ever have a choice?”

“Jon... what are you talking about?”

“You—You said I was...” He reaches for the notebook and points at a verse with his finger. “’Made your choice unaware you were led by strings of web against your heart.’ How—W-Why did you say this?”

Martin stares into Jon's green eyes with concern, yet parts of his heart start to weave themselves back together. However confused and worried Jon seems to be, none of it is directed at Martin; he looks at him with desperation, almost pleading, and he realizes they’ve been having two different conversations at the same time.

“Oh-Oh, God, Jon, I-I didn't mean—I just, it's a-a metaphor, just that, you know,” he takes a breath. “It does remind me of a web, the-the way we got caught up in Elias' plans.” He looks down, his cheeks burning as he remembers why Jon would get caught at this specific phrase. “I'm sorry for, uh, using that, it was just the first thing that came to my mind and—”

Jon exhales next to him and Martin risks a look up. The uneasiness isn't gone from his face but he relaxes just a little bit, enough to stabilize his breathing.

“I'm sorry for this… this whole thing, Martin.” He gestures at nothing in particular and it's his turn to look at the floor, as if it's all of a sudden the most interesting thing he's ever seen. He starts fidgeting with the notebook. “I'm just—What if it’s true?” His voice goes higher at the question and he closes his eyes. Martin squeezes his arm. “What if I am just... Just a puppet? An inhuman, helpless puppet in the hands of—Of some spider pulling the strings?”

A tear rolls down Jon's cheek and Martin grabs one of his hands. It’s small and still shakes a little; he tries to put all the protectiveness he feels into this small gesture. Jon doesn’t recoil this time, instead taking a moment to watch Martin’s hand clasp around his.

“Jon,” Martin starts softly. “You're still you. You're not some—Some spider puppet that can't make choices.”

“But what if—”

“You've made a choice to go into the Lonely for me.” Martin bumps their knees together lightly and Jon looks up at him. “I don't suspect any webs would need me alive to push you into it. It was You.”

Jon looks him in the eyes and Martin barely stops himself from reaching up to his face to wipe away his tears.

“Or it just makes us think that we have a choice but are ultimately helpless against fate and everything we do is determined by intricately crafted circumstances,” Jon whispers. “Maybe free will is a lie.”

Martin blinks.

“Jon...”

“Maybe I was never able to stop it. Any of it.” Jon’s voice grows more horrified and even though his eyes are directed at Martin's face, he seems to be looking somewhere past him. “Maybe nothing we try to do really matters.”

“Jon.” Martin’s voice gains a bit of force, even though he feels all but sure. “What do you see?”

Jon frowns. “What?”

“Look at me and tell me what you see?” The force is gone; the sentence sounds more like a feeble suggestion than a request, but Jon's eyes refocus on Martin's in a frown of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“We're here now,” Martin says quietly. “And yeah, maybe our decisions are all predetermined or whatever. I still think it matters that we try. I think our experience matters. And you're not a-a monster without free will, Jon. You care about people, and you’ve sacrificed a lot for other people. You've made your own choices and, no matter if they were good or bad, they were still yours. And I think that matters.”

Jon blinks at him for a moment, then his shoulders slump with a sigh and he interlaces their fingers. Martin doesn’t miss it and he feels warmth in his chest.

“I've always been afraid of—of my will not being my own anymore,” he confesses quietly. “Of, uh... of not knowing the difference.”

“I get it,” Martin nods. “If it’s any consolation, I see a lot of Jon in you still.” Jon looks up at him with surprise and Martin gives him a half smile. “I see a very changed Jon but it's still Jon.” He strokes Jon's palm as his heart picks up the pace. “The same Jon I've first fallen in love with.”

Jon exhales softly, his face caught in a soft surprise, and Martin smiles around the dull ache in his chest.

“You don't have to say anything. I'm sure you've known for a while, but I just... I wanted to say it.”

With every second that passes in silence, however, Martin's cheeks grow hotter, and he concludes that this might have been a mistake.

“I-I'm sorry. M-Maybe I shouldn't have said that, I… I don't want things to get weird or anything, so, uh, we can, we can just forget—”

“Martin.” Jon says his name in a soft and kind of inquisitive way that makes his heart bounce around and transforms the ache in his chest into swirling butterflies again. Martin looks up and Jon’s head is tilted to the side, his face still wet with tears, but he notices something hopeful glitter in his eyes. “I love you too.”

Martin frowns, suddenly wondering if he isn't dreaming. Is Jon really saying what he thinks he is? Did he hear correctly? Maybe he misheard—

“I have for a while,” Jon's voice is still quiet and soft. “I didn't want to say anything because I thought it was too early after the Lonely and you might not feel this way anymore, but...”

Martin swallows, acutely aware of how loud his heartbeat is. He squeezes Jon’s hand and smiles slightly.

“I... I didn't know,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to cooperate.

“As soon as I woke up from the coma, I wanted to tell you,” Jon says. “I thought I was too late; that it took me too long to stop denying the feelings I had because I didn’t know how to deal with them, and I'd missed my chance.” He laughs bitterly.

“So that’s what it was about,” Martin whispers, as Jon's actions towards him throughout his time as Peter Lukas’ assistant start falling into place. Jon looks at him with a frown, so he adds, “The ‘let's gouge out our eyes and escape'.”

Jon scrunches up his nose and clears his throat.

“Yes, well. Yeah.”

Martin chuckles quietly.

“I don't think I would have lasted in the Lonely if I understood then. But then again. It didn't really matter in the end. It didn't help.”

“But it was your choice,” Jon echoes Martin's words from before and their eyes meet again.

“Yeah. It was my choice.”

They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, losing track of time, before Jon smiles slightly and looks back at the notebook.

“I really am sorry for not asking your permission, though,” he says. “I got so caught up in the metaphor I didn’t even finish it.”

Martin blinks, the warmth from his chest spreading to his cheeks again.

“D-Do you want to?”

Jon smiles softly, this new smile that Martin has only seen in the past couple of days, always directed at him.

“If you’d let me.”

Martin needs to look away, unable to handle the affection in Jon’s eyes. He mumbles an ‘okay’ with a smile that’s not entirely under his control and gets up.

“But I am making that tea whether you want it or not, waiting for someone to finish reading something is a torture.”

He hears Jon laugh as he heads back to the kitchen.

When he comes back with two steaming mugs, Jon is waiting for him with a smile and his nervousness dissipates with his next words.

“I like it,” Jon says. “Apart from the, uh, web metaphor, obviously. It's hopeful.”

“Y-You do?”

Martin swallows; the pleasant tingling in his stomach is back. He places their mugs on the table and reaches out to join their hands again. Jon intertwines their fingers immediately and caresses the outside of Martin’s palm with his thumb.

Jon looks down at the verses again and smiles softly, almost sheepishly, a familiar blush darkening his cheeks.

“I—I don't know if there would be anything for us outside of. You know. The fears and all that,” he grimaces. “At least, for me. But, uh…” He looks at Martin again with a hopeful expression that makes Martin melt a little, and he gently caresses Martin's cheek with his free hand. “I really like the thought of it.”

Martin's brain might be short-circuiting at this moment and all of his thoughts take form of fuzzy static.

“Me too,” he says, suddenly breathless. Jon's hand rests cupping his cheek and, are they a bit closer than they were a second ago? Jon's gaze slides down Martin's face to his lips and he feels he might faint right there and then. He doesn't, instead gathering up his courage to take a breath.

“Can I kiss you?” Jon asks first and Martin feels his lips form a grin.

“Please,” he breathes out; the next second their lips meet, soft but urgent, desperate and sick of waiting. Martin's hand dives into Jon's soft hair, fingers scraping the delicate skin of his head and earning him a low sound from Jon's throat. They pull each other closer and find a rhythm to lose themselves in for just a moment; the sensation of Jon's tongue swirling in his mouth, of his slender fingers on his cheek and his neck, the pressure of his body against his chest; all of it making Martin dizzy with happiness.

Martin pulls away when his lungs painfully remind him breathing is still a necessity and he opens his eyes to look at Jon – His soft lips, his nose, his pockmark scars, and his eyes, green yet with no trace of Beholding in them. He takes him in whole, with all of his flaws and all of his virtues, and he feels seen in return, seen by the man he loves and who loves him. The weight of it all hits Martin like a crashing wave and he pulls Jon in for a tight embrace.

“I love you,” he whispers against his shoulder, and he feels Jon's arms tightening around his torso.

“I love you too, Martin.”

[haik-choo]

request: i read your haikyuu as boyfriend headcannons and 🥺 they were so cute!! if you don’t mind can i get some hcs of your first kiss with noya and hinata 💞

a/n: yess!!!! YES!!!!! your mind...i decided to do all of the first years and add in noya because i really wanna,,,ALSO THESE ARE KIND OF LIKE SCENARIOS??? AGAGAG

@dearkozume because you wanted me to tag you in posts!!! <3

[FIRST KISSES WITH KARASUNO FIRST YEARS + NOYA]

-nishinoya, hinata, kageyama, yamaguchi, tsukishima

nishinoya yuu.

he’d kiss you when walking with you, his mind would probably already be filled with thoughts about kissing you when he realizes you’re giving signs of wanting to be kissed and he. panics

has probably been dating you for a week and keeps on thinking about how to kiss you

he doesn’t want to be pushy and kiss you when you’re not ready, but baby really wants to kiss you

but he won’t if you’re not ready! 

but you’ll be walking back from practice with him, hands intertwined as he complains about tsukishima being an ass or something

and all of a sudden he notices that you aren’t responding like you usually do, not even an ‘uhuh’ or a ‘mhmm’

and he just looks over at you to see if you’re okay, and he notices that you’re literally just staring at him, seemingly not even noticing that he’s stopped talking

and he stops walking and realizes that you’re not just staring at him,,,,,,you’re staring at his lips

WHEN I TELL YOU HE ALMOST SHITS HIMSELF. HE’S BEEN PREPARING AND EVEN TOLD HIMSELF THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE A MONTH BEFORE YOU WERE READY BUT YOU’RE GIVING THE SIGNNNNSSSSS

he takes his hand from yours and grabs your shoulders and pulls you in really close, and his breath shakes when he opens his mouth; you’re a little shocked, but in a good way 

“can i please kiss you?” 

it’s a whisper, and his eyes are wide and his cheeks are painted red; you can even feel his fingers twitch on your shoulders, which is cute because he never gets nervous

and you just...nod

and he nods back at you, closes his eyes, and you close yours. and his lips gently press against yours in the middle of the sidewalk, it’s nighttime, and it just feels so right

he pulls away, his face a mixture of “did i just fuck up” and “OHEIHGroigerngrGUvk” and it has to be the most endearing thing you’ve ever seen. and you wanna see it again sometime soon

just not when he looks like he’s about to pass out from the nerves

“w-....was that good?” he’d nervously ask, his hands still gripping your shoulders, and you’d just nod and laugh, kissing his cheek and intertwining his fingers with yours again before starting down the street

“it was perfect, yuu. let’s do it against sometime.”

“yEAH o-OKAY” (he says as his voice cracks)

hinata shoyo. 

you’d kiss him at night, in his room with no one home, it’s a chaotic kiss because he probably doesn’t see it coming, like at all, and he does something stupid before melting

you guys are used to being at one another’s house like,,,,all the time

you’ve been friends since his middle school says, and when he told you he was going to karasuno, you decided you’d go too

and now that you’re dating, it’s all basically the same. except you wanna kith him and he wanna kith you but you guys are each other’s firsts and just.awkwardness pursues

you’re at his house, but natsu is out with his mom getting groceries for dinner that night (you’re staying over for the night because it’s a friday)

and you’re waiting for hinata to be done with his shower, just finishing up the homework for the weekend so you can 1) spend time with your boyfriend and 2) so you can help him with his homework later

“y/n, have you seen the lotion anywhere?” he calls from the bathroom

“oh, yeah, give me a sec” and you get up and open the door, remembering you put it in the cabinet instead of on the counter, and you just stop,

his hair is wet and he has a towel on his shoulders, his cheeks red from the heat of his shower, his eyes raking over the counter and shelves

“i-its in the bottom cabinet” you manage, and he smiles and opens to cupboard, laughing, “why’d you put it there?” 

his voice is just. perfect. it’s smooth from the steam and yet it’s still a little grainy

and you briefly wonder what it would sound like after a make out session bUT YOU STOP YOURSELF

“what’re you staring at???” he tilts his head to the side and just. doesn’t realize your heart is beating out of your goddamn chest

and you decide to just go for it

in one swift step you’re right up next to him, both hands on his cheeks to bring him down and kiss him, his eyes are wide, not really processing what’s happening, and he’s pretty shocked

so shocked, in fact, that he drops the bottle of lotion on your foot

“OW whAT THE HELKE”

“AH IM SO SORRY IM SO SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN TO --”

you sigh and hold your foot, jokingly saying “you could’ve just told me you didn’t want to kiss instead of smashing my big toe, shoyo --” but he doesn’t even let you finish before he dives in for a second kiss, lips tightly pursed together, inexperienced, but eager, hands squishing your face

and he pulls away, his large eyes staring straight at yours, breath ragged and ears glowing red

“hehe, shoyo, you’re getting your wet hair all over my face”

“sorry i just really wanted to kiss you again” 

kageyama tobio. 

he kisses you because he just can’t take it anymore. it’s probably out at a park after he’s done practicing, and it’s unexpected because he doesn’t know how to do anything; but he goes for it anyway because he just wants to let you feel how much he loves you

i’m surprised he even has an s/o anyway--

he texts you saying ‘hey can you come to the park with me. i was practicing with the idiot but he left because it was late and now’

‘now???’

‘i’m lonely :(’

and now here you are, sitting on a bench, laughing with kageyama as he tries to practice by himself 

“kageyama! it’s already nine pm, take a break and then let’s get something to eat”

he reluctantly nods and moves to sit next to you on the bench

you smile up at him and lace your fingers with his, resting your head on his shoulder and staring at the night sky, peacefully thinking

and kageyama is sure you can hear his heart beat like a drum against his chest

he texted you because he wanted to kiss you but he didn’t know how to say that, and chickened out and just said he was lonely

kageyama knows that he’s not experienced, and that if you were in a relationship with someone like tsukishima or sugawara you’d have already kissed by now

and he’s just...so thankful that you’re so patient with him, and that you respect his boundaries

and he knows that you’ve probably been wanting to kiss him, and damnit, he wants to kiss you too

so he just tests the waters...and just kisses your temple, causing your head to shoot up in shock, because he never kisses you

and you can’t even say anything now because his beautiful steel blue eyes are staring at you so intensely that your breath is stolen from you 

before you know it, he leans down and firmly presses his lips against yours

but he doesn’t pull away for a few seconds, which you don’t mind because fuCK hE”S KISSING YOU YES

but then a few more seconds go by

and then a few more 

and then you finally pull away, “kageyama?” but he doesn’t respond and then you get a good look at his face and almost burst out laughing because it’s literally SO RED

his brows are furrowed together, his lips are tight, and his cheeks are so pink and he just softly mutters out, “i didn’t know how long to kiss you for and then i freaked out because i thought it was too long and i froze up please don’t break up with me i’ve never done this before--” and you cut him off with a kiss that, this time, only lasts for a few seconds

“there. is that better?”

and he can barely manage a nod with how hard and fast his heart is beating

tsukishima kei.

he’d kiss you the morning after you’ve slept over, both tired and lazily watching tv with a cup of joe in his hand and breakfast in your lap, a warm atmosphere taking over you both

it’s probably a sunday morning, and you and tsukishima are sitting on his couch with the tv playing a documentary on dinosaur fossils after you wake up from spending the night 

and he had a cup of coffee in a white mug with a stegosaurus decal on it, and you have a finished plate of toast on your lap 

“did you know that a stegosaurus’ brain was the size of a dog’s?” he mindlessly says, taking a sip of coffee

you hum and look up at him, taking him in with all his glory. his hair is messy and slightly curled at the end now that let it grow out a bit, his glasses were slipping from his nose and his typical piercing eyes were less so, now seeming just a little tired

but your eyes got caught on his lips, and how the coffee left them with a wet sheen

it had already been a month of dating, you had met him when you both took the same extracurricular class in college (’art before the modern ages’ it was called, all about art from the cavemen period and around there) 

after suffering through the boring lectures from a rather untalented professor, he ended up asking you out to coffee one day (surprising you) 

and now here you were, sitting with your sides touching, heart beating in synch

‘well. might as well kiss him’, you thought

“hey, kei, put your mug down real quick” “???okay, weirdo.”

he gently places his cup on the coffee table in front of you both, and he looks over at you expectantly “why'd you wan--” but alas, his words are cut off as you pull him down on top of you, your back hitting the cushions with a soft ‘thud’

but despite having the confidence to initiate pulling him on top of you, his honey eyes are wide and right in front of yours and you didn’t plan for them to be so mesmerizing

needless to say. it’s silent and awkward before he opens up his mouth to tease you

“so you aren’t going to kiss me?” he’d say with a smirk, before rolling his eyes and repositioning himself so his lips are hovering right over yours

“guess i’ll have to do it myself” 

and he laces his fingers with yours as he kisses you passionately. the sun is filtering in, and it looks like he has a halo of light coming from behind his blonde head of hair. it’s so breathtaking that you just close your eyes and lose yourself in the feeling of him on top of you

he pulls away from you with eyes filled with love, something you’ve noticed he’s giving you a lot lately, and gives you a small, genuine smile

“god, i have to do everything around here”

“oh my gOD shut up” 

yamaguchi tadashi. 

he’d kiss you when you’re doing something domestic together, like making dinner together when you both are blaring music in the kitchen and you’re crushing him with the back hugs you love to give

“tadashi, the salt is in the cabinet above you head!”

“thanks, baby!” 

he’s stirring the pot for the spaghetti, putting salt in the boiling water before he puts in the angel hair

and you’re finishing up the homemade sauce, deicing to let it simmer for a few minutes while you decide to go and bother tadashi 

“mmmm, that smells good, baby!” you say as you go behind him, peering over his shoulder. he laughs and shakes his head, “it’s just pasta” you shrug, “still smells good.”

the domestic scene just fills your heart with so much content that you’ve just GOT to let it out

and you want to let it out on your wonderful boyfriend, tadashi 

so you press your face in the back of his olive green sweater, letting your hands slowly slip over his sides and across his stomach, interlacing your fingers together before letting out a sigh of satisfaction

you almost giggle at the way his body tenses up and he twtiches in your hold

“wha-what’re you doing! you’re going to make me burn the spaghetti!” 

“you can’t burn spaghetti, tadashi”

“watch me!”

“i can’t help it, you just smell like...”

“like what?” he’d ask, his face red as he finally pours in the pasta, the corners of his mouth poking upwards

“like my future husband~” CUE HIM DROPPING THE BOX IN THE WATER, BABY BOY IS SO SUPRISED

“w-WE’VE ONLY BEEN DATING FOR TWO WEEKS, I--”

“i”M KIDDING TADASHI AGAGAGAA CHILL OUT” 

a few seconds pass, and his heart is still going a thousand miles per hour, you know because you can hear it thumping against your hands that are now on his chest

you start to giggle, face propping up on his shoulder

he can’t help it, and he starts to laugh too, laughing at how he gets flustered so easily when it comes to you 

and after a minute of loud tear-inducing laughter, he finally just turns around and wraps his arms around your waist, his eyes staring down lovingly at you and your dazzling smile

time slows to a stop, and you both just lean in at the same time, lips connecting at the halfway point, perfectly. he’s smiling against your lips, scrunching up your shirt in his grip. :(((( this is so cute

and his heart jumps a little at the way your hands fist his shirt, and he thinks about how he could do this all night (which he will) before he separates from you with hearts in his eyes, placing his chin on the top of your head

“uh, i think you burned the spaghetti babe??? how the hell--”

“i TOLD YOU THAT YOU DISTRACT ME” 

[thestorycfus]

Behind these two white highway lines

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x gn!Reader

Summary: Erik and Reader always kept some distance, but they get a better glimpse of each other when they are tasked with bringing a new mutant to the school. The teen doesn’t like being a mutant, but Erik and Reader help him see the bright side of his identity.

Warnings and notes: This is a very self indulgent and obvious metaphor to how lonely it feels to be ‘the only one different’, and it’s not nearly as well written as it should be. There’s mentions of family discrimination, feelings of isolation, self-doubt and a journey to acceptance. But just... Not well written, for real. Other X-Men (First Class generation) are mentioned. 

Word count: 2,641

Masterlist

Erik Lehnsherr was quite a mystery to you. He was close to Charles and Raven, and he was great at training with the kids, but you had never even had a full conversation with Erik. Even though you had gotten to know everyone else in the Institute after it became your home, the metal bender preferred to keep his distance. He wasn’t rude, just… Private, it seemed. Maybe he had something against you, or maybe he was like that with every new mutant. You wouldn’t be able to tell. The guy made you a little nervous, to be honest. He was serious, powerful, strong-willed and, of course, irritatingly handsome too. If he didn’t want to be bothered, the best you could do was let him be.

For months, that was exactly what you did. You kept teaching your classes and working on your powers, while Erik kept doing whatever Erik does. You rarely talked to each other, despite living in the same house. The Institute was always full and always busy, so there was no need for you two to exchange more than a few words, nothing beyond small talk or work-related communication. You still wondered what Lehnsherr was all about, for a while, the quiet balance worked.

The equilibrium started to crack when Charles gave you a mission. He had detected a new mutant, a teenager with human parents living out of state, and it seemed like the kid was having trouble controlling his abilities. The parents were more than grateful when Professor Xavier called and offered to help their son understand and use his power, but they couldn’t drive him to the institute. With everyone else busy, Charles chose you and Erik to bring the kid to the school.

It sounded like a simple task, but you felt nervous all the same. The road trip was a little awkward, but overall uneventful, with you driving there so Lehnsherr could drive on the way back. As far as you were told, the kid would be ready to go as soon as you arrived. You both got out of the car and Erik rang the doorbell, always keeping a safe distance from you, as if you were about to bite him. You tried not to role your eyes, focusing on your most welcoming smile – very important when meeting a student and their family. The door opened to reveal a fidgety mother, who looked at you and Erik as if you were a miracle.

“I am so glad you are here, we don’t know what else to do. I’m Christine Johnson. Please, come in.”

At the same time, you heard shouting coming from upstairs, with a distinct scream of ‘I am NOT going to that freak show’, followed by the bang of a door closing. You and Erik exchanged a look before introducing yourselves and following Mrs. Johnson to the living room. Nobody had informed the school of it, but you were more than familiar with that sort of conflict. Being a mutant wasn’t always easy, and being a mutant teenager with a bunch of human friends and relatives was a mess, most of the times.

“Please, make yourselves at home. I will go get Jay, we will be ready in just a minute.” Mrs. Johnson said, looking towards the stairs and back to you and Erik. Before she could leave, you took a step forward.

“Maybe we could talk to him first? He might feel more comfortable if he gets to know us a bit before leaving.” You offered, only then remembering to give Erik a glance. He nodded discreetly, ready to follow you. There was a tension on him that you weren’t used to witnessing, but you couldn’t wonder about that now. This kid needed guidance and support, and that was the reason you went to the Institute in the first place. Mutant kids deserved better than what the world usually offered them, and the X mansion was their best opportunity to have that.

“That is very kind of you, Professor, if you don’t mind trying… Come upstairs, he’s in his room.”

You both followed Mrs. Johnson to the hall of the second floor, where her husband was pilling up bags. She called him to help with the something in the kitchen and they practically run downstairs, in an obvious attempt to not be a part of the conversation. You took a deep breath, not wishing to lose your temper, but the way the parents seemed desperate to get rid of the problem made your blood boil. To your surprise, it was Erik who knocked on the bedroom door.

“Hello, Jay. I’m Erik. I am here with my colleague Y/N. We would like to talk to you for a minute, if that is okay.”

There was silence for a moment. Erik beside you in the narrow hall, more serious than you had ever seen him. You watched his expression get lighter when he heard the doorknob click. Jay opened the door and stared at the two strangers with childish curiosity, but quickly looked away and went back inside his room. He sat at the bed, absent mindedly playing with a ring of old keys in his hands.

“It’s nothing personal, but I won’t be going to your school. I already told my parents, if they want me to leave, I’ll just move in with my friend until I get a job. His parents said it’s all good. Sorry you had to drive all the way here for nothing, though.”

His tone broke your heart. You had heard it so many times before, seen so many scared kids who were tired of sticking out, terrified because the people supposed to love them the most just saw them as an issue to fix. You and Erik walked into the room together and you sat down on the floor, leaning against the bedside table. Jay’s eyes scanned you as if you were about to shoot lasers at him – and for all he knew, maybe you were – and even you were surprised when Erik followed you, sitting on the carpet too.

“Let’s start from the beginning. I’m Professor Y/N L/N and I work at the Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, which, as you might know, is home to many mutants, including myself and…” You gestured to Erik, who took your cue.

“I’m Erik Lehnsherr, also a Professor at Xavier’s and also a mutant. If you do not wish to join us, that is perfectly fine, but you could at least hear us out first. You know, to compensate for the long drive.” He opened his right hand, and Jay’s ring of keys came flying towards him, floating just above his palm.

You smiled at the way Jay stared, looking so lost, but also as if he had just been found. He looked so young, so starved for some understanding… Erik’s approach was a bit on the nose, but it was worth a try.

Since you entered the room, you had spotted the few plants that decorated the room, including a succulent on the table next to you. You reached up and grabbed it, touching the delicate flower that was just beginning to appear on top of it. At your touch, the flower grew, opening up in yellow and orange tones. Jay’s eyes went from you to Erik and back to you.

“What do you even do in there, though? I bet you’re not studying chemistry or something.”

You chuckled at that, and Erik had big grin when he answered.

“You would be surprised. Just because someone is blue, doesn’t mean they aren’t a science genius.”

“Blue as in sad or blue as in… Blue?” Jay probably sounded more invested than he intended to.

“Blue as in blue. Dr McCoy is a biochemistry expert, and he can also take down all three of us in a fight at the same time with very little effort. And he is blue, but he’s not the only one at that.” You explained, amused to see the kid look so curious.

“Actually, Hank couldn’t take me down unless the fight took place in a plastic prison, and even then it would be a close call.” Lehnsherr feigned offense, and you chuckled again. It was nice to see him being so casual and playful.

“No, it wouldn’t, but I won’t insist on that topic.” You turned back to the kid with a soft smile, while making a couple more flowers appear in the plant you were holding. “There’s a lot to discover at the school. You don’t have to stay there forever, but you could meet everyone, take a few classes and see if you like the place.”

“Sounds like all of you have everything figured out, uh?” As Jay spoke, a small flame emerged from his fingers, and he threw it from one hand to the other. “I’m not that good at keeping this under control.” There was a challenge in his eyes, as if he doubted that the school would be able to handle his abilities, even though you were used to students with powers way more complicated.

“Controlling all the metal near you isn’t as simple as it may seem. Most mutants are not in control of their powers when they first appear, but we can develop our abilities to degrees you can’t even dream of, Jay. That’s the reason Charles found the school in the first place – so all mutants can be safe and proud. I used to believe I was alone until he found me, and I was almost lost in my anger. The others allowed me to see that there is more than just one path for us.” Erik answered, making the keys fly back to their owner. Jay extinguished the flame and caught the keys midair. He remained in silence, so you continued Erik’s speech. Everything he had said really resonated with you, making you even more certain of the point you wanted to get across.

“You may make fire, but we have a guy who turns into and produces ice, a lady who can literally control the weather, some laser-shooters and a few telepaths and the list goes on. Even a seemly harmless mutation can be trouble, like when I have a nightmare and break the floor with tree roots growing out of nowhere, and the scariest powers can save all of us very often.” You felt Lehnsherr’s eyes on you, but you focused on Jay. You thought of how tiny you felt before you knew of others like you, remembering the desperation of dealing with a part of yourself that nobody around you could know, because they would never have to handle something similar. Until you were surrounded by other mutants, you were never able to allow yourself to just be.

“We know how hard it is to be the only one that is different. Pardon my language, but it royally sucks, doesn’t it? It gets lonely and terrifying, and it seems like there’s not a single person in your life that can understand. But we do. We have all been through it, one way or the other, and it gets much easier and much more fun when you have a community, if you’re willing to give us a chance.” The honesty in your words was undeniable. Even though no two mutants were the same, and each of the residents of the X Mansion had their own past and their identities, with the x gene being just one aspect of who they were, finding your community had being freeing in ways you didn’t even know you needed. There were still many barriers to face, and a lot of grief for everything that couldn’t be. It wasn’t fair, and it still hurt, but it didn’t hurt after you became more comfortable in yourself. The love you had for every mutant in the institute and the bonds you created made you see yourself in a brand new light, and you had seem the same magic happen to many others. You hoped it would happen to Jay too.

“I’m not just talking of making the burden less heavy. I’m talking of honestly understanding that there isn’t a burden at all. Even if I said I was proud of myself, I wasn’t really happy to be me until I was with the others. Now, when I say I’m a mutant and proud, I mean it. I know how strong, how amazing, how brilliant we are, and I’d never change a thing. I wish the world wasn’t as tough on us, I wish we didn’t have to be strong, but kid, I’m really thankful and proud to say that we can take it, and we’re worth standing up for and celebrating.” You finally stopped talking, feeling a bit self conscious about how much you had said, but opening up was worth it if it gave Jay a better chance of experience those changes. Before you could say more, though, Erik spoke again.

“I had an entire mutant pride speech ready, but I believe Y/N spoke for us both on what really matters here. Give it a try. If the school isn’t for you, you can come back to your friend’s house with some interesting stories.” You smiled at his words, waiting for Jay’s answer.

“Will someone drive me back here if I don’t stay or do I have to find a new ride?” The kid was already getting up and collecting stuff around the room. Erik stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up too and smiling at him.

“Maybe our teleport guy will be back by then. We usually take the road when we’re inviting a new student, but we’ll figure something out.” Erik replied, which gained him an impressed look from Jay.

“Of course there’s a teleport guy. You could have lead with that.” He continued gathering his belongings but, besides the plants, there wasn’t a lot more to pack. Most of the stuff was already in the bags in hall. Jay arranged most of the plants in a metal shelf so they would be easier to carry, but he shook his head when you tried to hand him the succulent in your left hand. “You keep that one. She likes you.”

You nodded, turning around to leave the room and help bring the bags to the car. Only then you noticed that you were still holding Erik’s hand. You let your hand fall, but the two of you didn’t stand so distant to each other now. All three mutants walked out of the room and divided the bags among you, with Lehnsherr showing off and making every metal object float to the front door. Once everything was in the car, Jay went to talk to his parents. There were tears and goodbyes and promises of behaving, but you and Erik stayed outside to give the family some privacy. The Johnsons might not be the best parents a mutant could get, but they were still Jay’s mom and dad, and the process would be important for him.

While you two waited, you decided to break the silence.

“Turns out we can make a good team, Lehnsherr.”

“Wait to see if the kid comes running back home when he sees Alex explode something before you start to boast.”

“Oh, shut up. Alex will be his favorite.”

“Yeah, he will. And we do make a good team.”

The conversation was cut short when the Johnsons came out of the door, with Mrs. Johnson hugging Jay. You and Erik promised to take care of him and finally got in the car. The ride back to the institute was a little less awkward and silent, even though the kid fell asleep in half an hour. You could definitely count that day as a win.