#I need to sneak up to the counter tomorrow at the theatre and be like hey. psst | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

t-o-m-hollands · 4 years ago

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Summary: It’s the late summer of 2004. You are set to travel across the country for university and your best friend Tom is staying behind. You spend your last night together before you leave.

Themes: Friends to lovers, love confessions, first love.

Warnings: Drinking beer. One mention of smoking weed. Mentions of parents fighting and also implied neglectful parents. Smut (+18), two spanks?? otherwise pretty tame.

Word count: 3,4 k

Notes: I don’t know, this might be a bit different? Or it might just feel that way to me. It’s very reminiscent of teenage years and first love and nostalgia. Please let me know your thoughts, I’m genuinely not sure what to think about this one.

Massive thank you to @augustholland who read through it and very kindly reassured me that it wasn’t bad 💖

Also, this fic was inspired by the Phoebe Bridgers song. I’ve never actually listened to it but it keeps showing up in my recommendation and i like the title of it so this is what i imagine that song is about. Mostly I listened to Harry Styles - Fine Line while writing this.

You finish up early that afternoon. Wayne, your old boss, tries not to cry as he hugs you goodbye. He tells you to take care in a gravelly voice close to breaking, as he avoids looking at you. It’s your last shift in the greasy bar, where for the last two years you’ve been selling cheap beer and watered down whiskey to weary old men and rowdy students who come in for a game of pool. It hasn’t paid much, just a few pounds an hour; just enough so that on each thursday you and Tom have enough money for movie tickets at the local cinema. It’s your tradition. Like a religious man goes to church each sunday; you spend your thursday nights with Tom’s arm slung around your shoulders, watching whatever new film they have on, sharing a bowl of popcorn between you. Afterwards you'll have burgers at the fast food joint across the street; talking about the movie long into the night, sharing a bag of fries.

When you were younger and hadn’t been able to afford to pay Tom had sneaked you both into the cinema anyway. Your hand in his, he had led the way into the movie theatre when no one was looking. Sitting in the back row he’d sneak you Fruit Polos to snack on, his arm slung around your shoulders, as you watched movies you were way too young for.

Last week was your final movie screening; some light-hearted American comedy, and the entire way through it you fought the lump in your throat, forcing yourself not to cry. Tom hadn’t laughed either; had just held you closer than usual.

Tomorrow you are set to leave the small seaside town behind you, the place where you have spent most of your life, for a drive all across the country; to start university in a city you’ve only visited once before. You’re not sure when you’ll return.

Thus lately everything has been laced with goodbyes; childhood having reached its end.

Just two days ago there had been the last bonfire where you had watched the Holland boys fight each other while playing football as his parents looked on and laughed, grilling sausages over the open fire.

It was on the same rocky beach where you have spent many summer days; grilling food on the open fire and throwing back cheap beer with your friends from school. You have scraped your knees on these rocks, burned your skin from both the bonfire and the sun there; have had your heart broken over and over and over again during your school years as you watched Tom kiss whatever girl he was dating at the time by the fire during summer night parties.

Maybe you had broken his heart a few times as well.

As the afternoon light turns everything golden you drive through the main street in the small town where everyone knows everybody, and has done for generations. You watch the people as you drive them by. You know everyone’s name, know each crack in the pavement; can find your way home in the dark.

God knows how many shoes you’ve worn out over the years walking down these streets.

The radio plays a blink-182 song you know by heart as you follow the road out of the city, through the woods and up to the coast. At the end of a muddy track, on the border to the forest, stands a shabby old caravan. It faces the beach and above the door christmas lights are lit up all year round.

The Holland family legend says that Tom’s great uncle had won the small patch of land in a bet. Unable to build a large house he had bought a caravan and put it on the lot. The old man had lived in the Shed for the rest of his lifetime, before passing it on to Tom; the youngster of the family, his younger brothers having yet to be born. When he had turned seventeen he moved out of his parents larger, more comfortable house, and into the Shed. His mother had agreed on it on the condition he took on the apprenticeship to become a carpenter that he had been offered.

You remember when he had told you of his decided future, one late evening as you sat on the driftwood by the beach, smoking weed and watching the sun set over the horizon. It had felt right somehow, you had been able to imagine him working with his hands, skillfully forming and bending wood to his will; his long and slender fingers knowing just how to fix things. Tom has always been good at mending things. It had been three years now and he was a full time employee at the JBT Carpentry Services. He says it doesn’t pay much, but he’s happy; and that's all that matters.

As you park the car outside the Shed Tom comes out. Standing under the colorful christmas lights he grins widely as he sees you, his eyes crinkling at the sides. The most genuine smile you know. He’s tanned from a summer spent on the beach, his hair a wavy mess; as if he’d just woken up from sleep. It’s a warm august day and the world seems sunbleached somehow; but in the afternoon light Tom looks golden.

You are painfully aware that it is the last time you’ll see him like this for many months to come.

Walking up to him and he gives you a bear-hug; his warm, hard body pressed against yours, holding onto you tightly. With your face in the crook of his neck you breathe him in and discover that a faint trace of bonfire smoke still lingers on his skin. It all feels achingly familiar and safe. So heartrendingly unlike the uncertain life at university that lies in front of you.

Tom is your safe place.

Your parents had always fought like cat and dog and sometimes when you were younger and they’d argue you’d climb through your window and walk all the way over to the Holland household. You were always welcomed there and his parents didn’t ask any questions, no matter how late the hour; instead they fed you, treating you like a member of the family around the dining table with gentle teasing and reminders of homework that needed to be done, letting you sleep over when needed. No questions asked.

With the years the fighting at home got worse. When Tom fixed himself a beat-up old Land Rover and moved out to the Shed you’d call him from the payphone down the road. He’d always answer, telling you to pack up; and that he was on his way. He’d pick you up by the end of the street, a duffle bag with schoolbooks and a change of clothes slung over your shoulder. He’d take you back to his place to sleep. His caravan only had one bed, so you used to curl up next to each other in bed. On the nights when you were crying he’d hold you, and in the morning he’d make you breakfast before you both went off to school.

Your parents never noticed your temporary absence.

Tom lets go of the hug, but with an arm around your waist he leads you into his home. There’s a lingering scent of fried food in the air and the boombox is playing the 3 Doors down CD he’s been obsessed with since you bought it for his birthday. You tread the cherry wood veneered flooring with your battered tennis shoes, feeling more at home here than anywhere else on earth.

“Fancy a beer?” Tom asks, leading the way to the kitchen area. “Warn you though, it's warm. Just got back from the store so they haven’t had time to cool”.

Everything is warm today, and the caravan is no exception. The ancient AC had given in years ago and Tom could never afford having it fixed. You heave yourself up on the countertop, replying a simple “sure” to his question.

He opens a Stella and hands it to you. He isn’t wrong, the beer is tepid. Yet you drown half the bottle in one big swig; happy just to have something to do with your hands when he’s standing so close to you. Gulping down on the liquid and you cannot help but notice Tom’s eyes on your throat as you swallow. He opens a bottle for himself and takes a swig.

You smile at the ancient gray t-shirt he’s wearing. At one point there had been a band logo on it, but it has long since been washed out. He notices you smiling at him and as if it's infectious a smile broadens on his face as well. “What?” he asks, leaning against the small counter across from you.

“Nothing” you say, smiling wider. “Just wondered how many times I’ve seen you in that shirt. I mean, it has to be near a couple of thousand times by now”.

“You don't exactly love buying new clothes either” he says, a teasing smile playing at his lips as he looks at your washed out jeans shorts. “I know for a fact that those aren’t new, darling”. His eyes linger on your legs for a moment too long before he looks away, taking a swig from his beer.

“So, when are you leaving?” He asks, and you can tell that he’s trying to sound relaxed, but leaned against the countertop, his arms crossed in front of him, head bowed; holding onto the bottle of Stella he’s nursing with a tight grip. He looks tense and on edge.

“Tomorrow morning”

He takes a swig from his beer. There’s nothing more to say, not really. Everything that happens now is just aftermath; you might as well have already left.

“I’m nervous” you admit, biting your lip, trying hard not to et out the tears you’ve been holding in for days now; embarrassed that your voice trembles on the last word.

His head snaps up to look at you. Pushing off the counter he takes a step forward, placing himself in between your legs.

“Hey” he says, with a voice a low and gentle as a whisper, his hand cupping your cheek. You look up at him; long dark eyelashes framing his beautiful brown eyes, his thin lips slightly parted and across his nose freckles are spread out, the result from a summer spent in the sun. His calloused hand strokes your cheek. “You’re going to take them by storm, Pebbles”.

You smile, despite your fluttering heart. He hasn’t called you Pebbles for a long time. It had been his nickname for you when you first became friends, the reason behind it long forgotten. He was the only one to ever call you it, and the name had lingered long into your late teenage years.

“You took me by storm,” he admits.

You blink up at him through wet eyelashes. Your family had moved to the town when you were ten years old. This was the kind of small town that strangers seldom came to and inhabitants rarely left; and so the new addition to the small local school had everyone talking. You had felt like an astronaut shuffled into space on your first day, trying to find gravity in the unfamiliar school corridors. You had felt the pull of gravity in form of the brown-eyed boy sitting next to you in english class. He had given you a warm smile as you sat down next to him. He had made you his friend, listened to you and confided in you; had made you laugh until your stomach ached. You found further gravity in his home; surrounded by his family and their endless squabbles and laughter, sitting next to Tom at the dinner table.

It hadn’t taken long before you and Tom were an inseparable item; your names always linked to one another in the mouths of others.

“You’ve worked so hard for this scholarship” he says, and the corners of his mouth tugs up into a smile, “I mean, I’m pretty certain you’re the only reason I even finished school”.

You had helped him write most of his essays at school. He’d struggled with reading a lot and found the assigned novels difficult. There were evenings where you’d spend hours laying on the bed; twisting the phone cord between your fingers, as you read the books out loud for him.

Sometimes, in order to be left alone from his parents and younger brothers, he’d walk down to the end of the street and to the payphone there, where he’d spend all his pennies listening to you reading. You had talked and talked until your voice got hoarse; until he ran out of pennies. Yet when he hung up you always felt a tug of longing in your chest, knowing you wouldn’t be able to see him until the next day in school.

“Well, I heard you’re doing pretty good as a carpenter” you say, smiling up at him. “I always knew you’d be good with your hands”.

As soon as you’ve said it you can feel your face heat up. You had heard the rumours at school; Tom Holland is a stellar fuck. Once, while you were in the bathroom stall, you had heard a gang of girls discuss it as they reapplied their lipgloss in the mirror. One of them told the story of her one night stand with Tom, how he had made her come several times over with his hands and mouth; how he’d fucked her so long and so good. You had stood in the stall, your heart in your throat; feeling sick to your stomach, but unable to stop listening.

There were girls that reached out to you in school, knowing you were Tom’s closest friend, and asked you in hushed but awed voices if it was true. If he really that good in bed.

He looks you dead in the eye, an unusual seriousness to his warm eyes. He knows what you’re thinking, knows what thoughts have made your cheeks flush with colour. Letting go of your cheek he places his arms on either side of you on the counter; caging you in.

“There’s never been anyone but you, Pebbles. Not really.” His tone is heavy with meaning and you feel light-headed; both oddly detached from your own body and painfully aware of the closeness of his. Your heart is beating hard in your chest.

This is a line you’ve never crossed before.

“I know I’m ruining everything by saying this, but you’re leaving tomorrow and I’ve been walking around with this secret lodged in my chest like a bullet since i was ten years old; I love you, Pebbles. I’ve always have”.

You should speak. You should tell him that you’ve known for a long time how he’s felt. That it’s been evident in the way his eyes keep lingering on your legs, in the way his arm usually finds its way to rest around your waist. In the way he’s always been there for you. You should tell him that you understand why he hasn’t been able to voice his feelings for you; because you haven’t done it either. Too scared of losing him. But your breath has caught in your throat and all you can focus on is those caramel eyes on you, and how hard your heart is beating in your chest.

“I love you too” you say, voice hardly louder than a whisper. You swear there was music coming from the boom box but all you can hear is the blood rushing through your body.

He kisses you.

He takes your mouth slowly, kissing you thoroughly until you can’t think straight; can’t remember any other kiss than his. Then his lips move over yours with more fervour; more urgency, one hand around your throat and the other tangled in your hair. He kisses you until you're both moaning and gasping for more.

This is it. You’ve crossed the invisible line between friends and lovers; and there is no return, no going back from here. When you leave tomorrow you will leave knowing what his mouth feels like pressed against your.

You dig your hands into his soft hair, runs them both up his chest, realising that this is what your hands were made for. He lifts you off the counter and you wrap your legs around his waist. He moves you both across the caravan and into the bedroom. It’s baking hot in there and you can already feel sweat forming at the low end of your back. The room, just big enough for a bed to fit, is lit up with sunlight. His bed is a mess of rumpled white sheets and the walls are the same cherry wood colour as the rest of the caravan.

You kiss and lick his jaw, his neck, his throat; anywhere you can reach you stroke him. You tug at his hair, kiss his soft lips, and nib at his ear. It’s like the gates have been opened, because even though his arm has always been a comforting presence around your waist; and even though you’ve slept in the same bed more times than you can count, his body curled up next to yours, forming himself like a question mark around your body; he’s never been yours to touch before. Not like this.

His breathing is accelerated, his chest rising and falling in rapid speed, and so is yours. There’s a heat to his eyes that tells you he’s just as turned on as you are. You pull at his shirt before he’s even laid you down on the bed; impatiently craving all his warm, suntanned skin pressed against yours. It’s an almost feverish frenzy, and in the back of your mind you know that you should take this slow. You don’t want this to end too soon, because this might be all you get. But the sun hasn’t even set yet and through the old white-washed curtains you helped put up and light shines through, bathing you both sunshine.

Outside the waves keep crashing against the shore and in the kitchen his boombox keeps playing songs you’ve heard a million times before. It is like it always has been at Tom’s, except that for laying on his sofa and talking he’s removing your clothes; kissing his way down your body. Wet, opened mouth kisses that leave a trail of heat in its wake that have you bucking your hips up for more. His hands are everywhere, exploring your legs. He’s looking at your skin with wide-eyes adoration. With his body in between your wide spread legs he kisses the soft inside of your thighs.

“So soft” he groans against your skin, “and so sweet”.

You feel overheated and breathless; aching all over from wanting him. Perched up on your elbows you observe him; his dark hair brushing against the low of your stomach as he kisses the tender skin of your hip bone. He bares his teeth and bites the sensitive flesh.

His hand cups your cunt. You’re wet and aching and as you presses his thumb to your clit, gently but steadily moving up and down, you feel like you’re going to combust. His strokes are soft at first, before speeding up, making you moan wantonly, spreading your legs wider for him.

“Glad you like that,” he says, a satisfied smile spreading on his face. “Do my fingers feel good on you, darling?”

All you can do is moan in response, arching and moving your hips up to meet his hand. His movements are fast and slippery and it doesn’t take long until your close, so close, so close; on the brink of tipping over and then -

A sharp slap on your pussy, leaving a stinging bite, and it is like the world splits into two.

“God” you moan, voice hoarse. You’re shuddering all over; moanes falling freely from your lips.

He looks up at you from his position in between your legs, his dark eyes sparkling. He kisses the soft inside of your thighs again. “You have any idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you here?” he asks. “I bet you do, torturing me for fun in those short jeans shorts”. He spanks your pussy again and you couldn’t have stopped the moan falling from your lips even if you tried. “How long I’ve wanted to taste you here?”. And he places a hot kiss on your wet slit. You can feel his soft hair pressed against your thighs; his warm breath against your skin.

His lips part and he covers you with his mouth, his tongue moving over your opening; touching you, stroking you, tasting you. A guttural moan leaves him. He looks up at you through tassels of hair, caramel eyes glued to your face.

You fall back against the mattress, “more” you demand, in a voice that sounds a lot like begging. “Please, more”.

It is as if he’s been unleashed. You have never felt anything like it, but he laps you up, tastes you; his fingers moving inside you; pressing against the place that has you seeing stars. You can’t even look at him now, you’re eyes shut; too overwhelmed by the stimulation. Both aching for more but not sure if your body can handle that kind of pleasure. Your thighs are shaking, and something in your stomach grows tighter and tighter by each flick of his tongue against your clit.

“I’m coming” you cry out breathlessly “fuck I’m coming”

And you do. Hard. He keeps kissing and touching you through it; both grounding you and dragging out the intense sensation.

His hands, now familiar with your thighs, make their way up to the soft swell of your breasts, as you struggle to regain your breath. He’s cupping them in his hands, pinching your nipples in between his fingers, kissing them with ferveor. Hungry hands move over your breasts, your stomach, your face; cupping it so that he can kiss you with the sort of yearning that comes from years of unanswered desire.

Your hands move over his body as well, moving over his abdomen chest and arms, defined from long hours of hard work. You kiss his throat and collarbones, kissing at the skin; licking, sucking and biting until you hear guttural moans coming from his throat. His lips are slightly parted, and his glossy dark eyes are fixed on your face; his fingers loosely tangled in your hair.

He presses you down onto the mattress again, until he’s face to face; his arms on each side of your face, holding himself over you.

“You sure?” he asks, voice hoarse, panting slightly.

“I want this” you answer him, voice low but clear, “I really, really want this Tom”

He smiles, breathing out the breath he’d been holding and moves away from you, reaching for the side of his bed and to take out a condom from the drawer.

He places a quick kiss to your lips, your cheek, your belly button, before he sits up. He removes his underwear and you can feel your face heat up again. Because this is Tom, your Tom, whom you’ve been in love with for half your life. But being with him, both naked as the day you were born, feels right. You know everything about this man, all his preferences and secrets; his favourite movie and how he likes his food and why he skipped class every day for a month in year nine. And he knows everything about you. It feels right that he should know this as well; know each curve of your body and the way you like to be kissed and what has you moaning and begging for more.

He unwraps the foil package and puts the condom on with firm fingers. Leaning over you again he lines up against your opening. His eyes glossy with lust, damp hair falling over his face; his mouth swollen and wet from kissing you.

Then with a sharp thrust and a groan he’s inside you.

All coherent thoughts go out the window as he starts moving in and out of you. The only thing that exists is his strong, sweaty body above you, moving in and out of you with slow, deep thrusts. He’s so hard where you are soft and you can’t stop touching him, dragging your fingers over his back, pulling at his hair, kissing his arms. It’s like the wires in your brain have crossed, sending out sparks of pure pleasure in your body.

He hits a particularly tender spot inside you and the groan that leaves you is almost animalistic.

Tom nearly halters in his pace, before collecting himself again. “Fuck” he moans out, kissing your neck. His movements become more frenzied and you roll your hips under him, meeting his movements; trying to get him deeper inside you.

He pushes himself up onto his hands, pulls back slightly; and pushes in. Starting to really fuck you.

You can’t stop looking up at him; naked body damp with sweat, muscles moving as he works; arms flexed and cheeks flushed. His eyes are closed pleasure now. Your hands are on his hips helping him set the pace as he fucks into you with fast, hard thrusts. Without warning you clutch around him in pleasure and he groans loudly.

“How the fuck does your cunt feel better than it tastes?” he asks, panting for air. “

He presses a hand over your heart, letting it rest there. You wonder if he can feel it pounding for him. You feel like you’re dissolving into a thousand tiny pieces as you come around him with a choked scream.

He’s so close and you can practically feel it; aching for him to have it. You want him to come; in you, on you, over you.

And then he does, his brows furrows; like the pleasure is so intense it hurts him. The sounds he makes when he comes are guttural; almost whimpering.

As he falls down on the bed beside you he pulls you close, has you pressed against his body, an arm firmly wrapped around you. The sun has set now, but the ocean waves still crash onto the shore, the sound of it the only thing to fill the silence part from your laboured breathing; the music having gone quiet in the other room.

Neither one of you say anything. You knew the end to this when he kissed you. You’ve regretted nothing that has happened here, and you know that he doesn’t either; but tomorrow you are leaving to drive all the way across the country and he cannot follow. You don’t know what will happen now, and he doesn't have the answer to that either. And so you just let him hold you; wishing with all your might that you could stop the morning from coming.

***

Please let me know your thoughts, genuinely don’t know what to make of this one.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic

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phoebenavarro · 3 years ago

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and on you stumble on (ch 2)

the magnus archives, established JonTim, pre-JonMarTim, 1,200 words

read on ao3 here

ch 1 on tumblr

Tim goes to buy the axe, and Jon calls Martin into his office. Martin looks wary, but he softens the moment he sees Jon, and he starts fussing over Jon, as is his way.

“Are you alright, Jon? You look awful.”

Jon clears his throat. “Yes, I… I think I’m coming down with something. You should go home, and take tomorrow off as well.”

Martin frowns at him. Jon just hopes he’ll buy the lie and stop asking questions. “Are you sure you—“

Jon cuts him off. “I don’t want to infect anyone else. Best you stay home.” He tries to give Martin a completely normal smile.

Martin gives him an unimpressed look, and Jon can practically hear his bullshit detector going off.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to stay home, then.”

“Yes,” Jon concedes. Damn it, Martin. “But I have things I still need to take care of here,” He sighs, “And… I know things have been a bit tense lately, and that’s mostly been my fault. I think we could all do with a bit of a break.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“And I’m sorry. About everything.”

Jon expects Martin to protest more, to ask more questions, but he’s quiet for a few moments, and then he nods. “Alright,” he says, “Thanks, Jon. I… I appreciate that. Do you need me to tell Tim and Sasha?” Jon is surprised, but he tries not to react.

“Oh, no, I already told Tim, and I’ll be seeing Sasha later.”

Martin nods again. “Right. See you on Monday, Jon.”

And with that, Martin leaves, closing the door behind him. For a moment, Jon is concerned. That was way too easy, Martin is usually much more stubborn, it wasn’t even a good lie… But maybe Martin could sense just how desperately Jon needed him to agree, Martin is perceptive of other people’s feelings like that, and either way, Jon has more pressing concerns. Tim is due back in a few minutes.

--------

Tim returns around 5, when most other people are leaving for the day, with a pizza in tow.

“We still need to eat,” Tim says, even though neither of them have an appetite. They both manage to force themselves to eat a slice, and they leave the rest in the break room fridge. (“Maybe we’ll be hungry afterwards, or if we die, Martin can have it,” Tim says in a failed attempt to lighten the mood.)

And then they wait. Tim reads through all the statements with the Not!Them in them again, going all the way back to Amy Patel. He wishes they’d understood what they were dealing with back then. Jon stares into space, thinking. They don’t talk. It’s solemn, almost as if it’s their way of paying their respects to Sasha.

At 7 o’clock, when they’re certain everyone in Artifact Storage has gone home, they sneak in. Jon has a key as a department head, so it’s less ‘sneaking’ and more ‘letting themselves in.’ It’s not particularly hard to find the table about halfway in.

“You should do the honors,” Jon says, staring at the hypnotizing pattern on the table and wrenching his gaze away from it to look at Tim. He hates the thing, hates how it caught Sasha in its web to be killed by a monster. Tim feels resigned; this is his life now, getting revenge on monsters that have hurt the people he loves. Tim picks up the axe, feeling the weight of it, getting an idea for what the heft of the swing is going to be like.

“You sure about this?” Tim asks.

Jon huffs out a small laugh. “No,” he admits, “But it’s the best option we have.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees. “You probably want to step back a bit. You don’t wanna get hit with any spooky shrapnel.” He offers Jon what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Jon backs up a bit and gives Tim a reassuring smile of his own. Tim wants to say something, just in case something horrible happens, but what can he say? I’m sorry, I love you, I really hope we don’t get killed by a horrible monster? Those are all things Jon already knows. “Ready?” Tim asks, and Jon nods.

Tim lifts the axe above his head and swings it down against the table with a satisfying crack. Music starts to play, seemingly emanating from the crack in the table. It reminds him of the music that was playing in the theatre, when Danny… It spurs him on to hit it again, and again, and again, as the music only gets louder, until finally the table is in splinters on the floor and the music stops. Jon moves to Tim’s side, placing a steadying hand on Tim’s arm, and Tim realizes that he’s breathing so hard he’s nearly hyperventilating. He tries to calm down as Jon inspects what’s left of the table.

“It was hollow,” Jon murmurs, “There’s just cobwebs and dust.”

“What…?” Tim begins, when he’s cut off by laughter. Jon freezes, his grip on Tim’s arm tightening.

A tall, lanky figure emerges from the shadows. “That was very stupid,” it giggles.

Tim recognizes Michael from Jon and Sasha’s descriptions, the hair, the hands… and he understands why Jon is holding onto him so tightly.

“What do you want?” Jon spits, reminding Tim, absurdly, of a cat puffing itself up when it’s scared. Michael leans against a nearby shelf.

“There’s no other way out of this room, you know,” it says casually, conversationally. Tim turns to look at the doorway, to make sure their exit is still clear.

“What?” Jon says.

“You don’t have time to escape before they get here,” Michael continues, and Tim’s blood runs cold.

“Oh no,” Tim murmurs.

“No, the- the table…”

“Was binding it quite effectively,” Michael says with a too-wide grin.

“Shit,” Tim swears. Next to him, Jon starts muttering something he can’t quite make out.

“Even with all the protections you have here, Archivist, I doubt you can survive them now,” Michael says, “And your assistant has no such protections.” It laughs. Jon tugs on Tim’s arm.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he says, “Tim, you need to go, you need to get out, I’ll— I’ll distract it.”

“I’m not gonna leave you,” Tim immediately counters, “No way!”

They both freeze as they hear a distorted voice calling Jon’s name. Michael just laughs in the background. Tim swears again, spinning to look at their exit. There’s a tall figure silhouetted in the doorway. Fucking of course there’s no fire exit, Tim thinks.

“Tim, run!” Jon shouts, pushing Tim away from him and then running deeper into Artifact Storage. The Not!Sasha chases after Jon, seemingly uninterested in Tim, and Tim sprints to the exit.

Jon drew it away so that Tim could escape, he realizes. Stupid, stupid self sacrificing idiot. If they both make it out of this alive, Tim is going to be so pissed at him.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #jontim #tim stoker #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartim #reblogs encouraged #mine #my writing

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deejadabbles · 4 years ago

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A Thousand Songs (Atem/Yami x Reader)

Chapter Two: Leave Out All The Rest

One /// Two /// Three /// Four /// [Five Coming Soon]

Summary: You knew that you and your band could make it big. Not only that, but stay together while doing it; the five of you were family, after all. The only problem was that despite all your musical talents...none of you were particularly good at lyrics. After years of struggling to put out your first full album, the solution finally made himself know in chance meeting on an empty stage.

Rock Band AU, Atem x Reader, gender neutral reader.

A.N. In case they weren't gay enough in the last chapter, Yugi and Jonouchi are boyfriends in this series <3 Is it a bit unrealistic to think they could be in a band and remain happy n healthy in their relationship? Probably. Do I care? No.

"This ain't working at all- and I told you it wouldn't!"

Yugi sighed as his beloved boyfriend tossed his phone on the table and leaned back in his metal folding chair.

Immediately, Yugi picked up the phone and handed it back to Jonouchi. "You can't dismiss them on looks alone," he scolded in a light tone.

Jou looked aghast, "He looks like he sacrifices cats on Sundays!" He waved the screen at Yugi, which displayed a bearded man who cast a purposeful scowl at the camera. He had lots of tattoos and piercings on top of the studded leather clothes, but that just made Yugi more annoyed with his boyfriend.

"People can say the exact same thing about me!" He waved a hand, encompassing his leather pants, studded belt, collar-style choker, and the tattoo on his arm.

Honda let out an unsure hum as he scrolled through his own phone, "But you're still a cinnamon roll under all that leather, Yugi, I'm not sure this guy is. Don't think he's a bad dude or anything, but I don't think he's the right fit for us," he turned his phone so everyone else sitting at the table could see, "just look at the titles of the songs he sent."

Okay, Yugi would concede that the examples the applicant had sent were a little...extreme, the title "bled like a pig" stood out in particular, but he still thought the boys were being a bit judgy.

"I think I'm gonna agree," you mumbled, "these are pretty heavy."

"You wrote a song called "we are broken" that sounds pretty heavy," Yugi countered, not unkindly though still trying to play the middleman.

"Okay, heavy isn’t the right word,” you conceded with a frown as you looked over some rather grotesque lyrics, “yup, “ edge lord ” is more fitting. Just look at the contents of the songs."

At the suggestion, Yugi scrolled down the application on his own phone, passed the profile pic and down to the bottom of the "examples of my work" section. ….okay, you guys had a point. Yugi doubted that the guy actually performed blood sacrifices, but his song style was definitely a little too demonic.

"Alright, I'll send him a thanks but no thanks note."

As Yugi brought up his email app to do just that, Anzu let out a frustrated sigh and scrubbed her hands over her face. "That was, what, the sixtieth-something application we've gone through?" she groaned, setting her phone down too, “It’s been over a month, and we haven’t gotten anywhere.”

"I still can't believe we got so many responses to our ads," Jonouchi grunted.

You set your head on your hand, expression dropping and making the dark circles under your eyes look more pronounced, "Everyone's pretty eager to join a band, now if only getting fans was as easy as getting people who wanted in on the fame prospect."

"All this work would actually be worth it if we found someone who even remotely appealed to us," Honda commented, "But everyone's just a little too…"

"Hardcore?" Anzu offered, then looked over at you, "Nah, you’re right, edge lord-y seem to fit most of them. I think that's the real thing, our band name probably makes people think we're more broody and grim than we actually are. We have plenty of darker themes in our stuff but everyone else seems to take it just a bit too far than our tastes go."

You ran a hand over your eyes, “Anyone else feel like we’ve wasted five weeks looking these applications over?”

"Hey, I'm sure we'll find someone soon though!" Yugi chimed in, a valiant attempt to elevate the mood. You and Jonouchi were always saying (much to his embarrassment) that he was everyone’s ray of sunshine, so surely he could salvage the night’s mood. “We just have to keep trying, I’m sure the right person is just around the corner!”

Anzu threw him an appreciative smile, “You’re probably right, Yugi, but I think I’m done looking for the night, it’s pretty exhausting.” She leaned back in her chair more, stretching her arms over her head.

“It’s probably a good time to call it quits now anyways,” you offered after glancing at the time, “If I hurry home now I can catch a shower before my shift starts.”

Everyone mumbled and nodded their agreements at that, followed by the five of you meandering around the room to get your stuff together. Honda offered to drive you back to your apartment like usual and everyone waved goodbye to each other in the tiny parking lot of the studio, Jou and Yugi climbing into Jou’s truck, Anzu into her beat-up car, and you and Honda zipping away on his motorbike.

It wasn’t until Yugi and Jonouchi were back at their place and Jou was cooking their dinner that Yugi realized something with great annoyance. After dumping the content of his backpack out on their bed, rifling through his desk drawer, and scouring the floor, Yugi wandered into the living room/kitchen area with a frown.

“Hey, sweetie, have you seen my adapters?”

Jonouchi looked thoughtful as he stirred the contents of the pan, “Uh, you mean the ones you use for your turntables? Haven’t seen them since the last time we rehearsed, that was what, three days ago?”

Yugi mumbled a curse under his breath, double-checking the tables and other spots he might have absentmindedly set them. Nothing. “Darn, I must have left them at the theatre yesterday.”

“Sure they aren’t in the studio?”

“No, I looked to make sure I’d have them when we rehearse tomorrow, but they weren’t there, that’s why I had it on my mind to find them when we got home.” Yugi shrugged and checked the time, thinking. After making up his mind, he grabbed his purple jacket from the armchair, “It’s okay though, if I hurry I should be able to sneak back into the theatre to get it. I think some members of the orchestra practice together tonight, and even if they aren’t the janitor should still be there.”

Yugi bounded across the tile floor as he slipped his jacket on, jumping up to place a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek before turning to the door.

“I won’t be long, be back before dinner’s done!”

“You better,” Jonouchi called as he grabbed some spices from the cabinet, “I ain’t fixing this masterpiece for one!”

Yugi chuckled and closed the door behind him, as if he’d miss a chance to taste his boyfriend’s amazing cooking.

There was barely any need for a jacket as he walked down the sidewalk, but the vanishing sun assured that it would probably get colder by the time he was walking back home. Although their apartment was a bit far from the band’s studio, the location at least allowed Yugi easy access to his other work place: Domino City’s “Pegasus Theatre”. It was a popular spot for the upper crust of Domino, since they not only hosted ballets, but a talented orchestra as well. Yugi and Anzu both worked there, Anzu as a dancer in the ballet, and Yugi in the sound department, providing tech aid for the shows. Well, for the ballets at least, the natural design of the theatre meant that he wasn’t usually needed when the orchestra played.

Yugi's assumption proved right and he found the door of the employee entrance unlocked. The sound of chatter greeted him as he approached the stage area, signaling that the orchestra was packing it in for the night. He took a brief glance at the stage as he walked up the rows of seats- he had to be quick, as there were only three lingerers, two chatting as they headed for the door and one quietly packing away his violin.

Yugi bounded up the narrow staircase to the sound booth, opening the door and crossing the room to the little employee cubbies. He found what he was looking for quick enough, after pushing aside his spare jacket and snack bag. The beat-up altoids case rattled, but Yugi made sure to double-check that the adapters were actually in there. They were and he sighed in relief, pushing the other contents back into the cubby before turning.

He peered out the booth's window to see if the violinist was still there, and to Yugi's surprise he was not only still in sight, but the man had actually lingered after packing away his instrument. Standing in the very center of the stage, the man was looking out at the empty seats, then trailing his eyes up to the magnificent red curtains.

Yugi smiled to himself, figuring the man was just having a moment of wonder or taking in a daydream during his moment alone, and Yugi couldn't blame him in the slightest. Yugi was slower when taking the steps down, letting the man have his moment before he ruined it by walking by.

Again though, Yugi found himself surprised. His pace slowed, the sound of a melodic voice carrying through the theatre like a wave that had Yugi stopping dead in his tracks.

I dreamed I was missing

You were so scared

But no one would listen

Cause no one else cared

After my dreaming

I woke with this fear

What am I leaving

When I'm done here?

The voice was deep, the rumble of a serene storm, almost haunting in a way.

So, if you're asking me, I want you to know

Yugi’s feet were moving before he even noticed and he soon stood on the red carpets leading to the stage.

When my time comes

Forget the wrong that I've done

Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed

And don't resent me

And when you're feeling empty

Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest

The violinist stood there, lost in his own world- or rather the words of his song. His eyes were closed, listening to a chorus of instruments only he could hear as his hands moved in short but meaningful gestures.

Don't be afraid

I've taken my beating

I've shared what I've made

I'm strong on the surface

Not all the way through

I've never been perfect

But neither have you

So, if you're asking me, I want you to know

The chorus of the song came again and Yugi finally snapped out of his reverie long enough to pull out his phone. With quick thumbs he searched the beautiful lyrics he had never heard before, wondering why he didn’t know the song.

No results came up, the song was unknown.

That only got Yugi’s attention more, and he gazed back up at the man, whose voice was filling with more and more emotion with every lyric. His fist clenched at the front of his shirt, over where his heart was, eyes screwed shut as he continued to pour his heart out to the empty theatre.

Forgetting

All the hurt inside you've learned to hide so well

Pretending

Someone else can come and save me from myself

A pause, an intake of breath, and Yugi found himself hanging on to every second the man gave.

I can't be who you are...

...I can’t be who you are

The singer drew out the last lyric in a prolonged, sorrowful note; breathy as he bowed his head, the song- his raw expression, finished.

Instantly Yugi found himself clapping, bounding down the red aisle between the seats to the stage. He only felt slightly guilty when the other man jumped in fright.

“That was amazing! Your voice is amazing- that song too!”

The man (who Yugi only now noticed has a similar hairstyle to his own) stared back at him with wide eyes, body stiff. “Uh- oh I- thank you. I...didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

The man’s speaking voice was deep too, and anyone could guess that he’d have a powerful set of pipes. Yugi was still too excited to pay the man’s nervousness much mind as he practically hopped to the foot of the stage.

“I didn’t mean to startle you- but I couldn’t help it, that was awesome! Did you write that song yourself? I googled some of the lyrics and nothing came up.”

The man took a while to respond and Yugi wondered if his dark complexion was hiding a blush. Eventually, though, the violinist/singer cleared his throat.

“Y-yes, I wrote it. I’ve never sung it in front of anyone though.”

“Do you write a lot of songs?” Yugi pressed and again it took his new friend a moment to respond.

“...Sometimes. I suppose it’s a bit of a hobby. Listen I-”

Finally, Yugi actually realized just how rude he was being with his aggressive ramblings, “Oh, gosh I’m sorry! I’m bombarding you with questions like some weirdo.” He gave a nervous laugh and to his relief, the man’s posture seemed to relax a little- though he still seemed a bit embarrassed. “My name’s Yugi, by the way, I’m one of the sound techs.”

The man gave a nod of his head, “Atem, I’m a violinist in the orchestra.”

“And a totally awesome singer, you’ve got some real talent,” Yugi reiterated, but pressed on before the man could get too bashful again, “The reason I asked you so many questions is because I think it’s fate that we met like this! See I’m in a band, we’re trying to put out our first full-length album but- honestly, we’re aren’t very fast at pumping out new songs. We’re great with coming up with the music, but the lyrics always get us stuck. We’ve actually been looking to hire a ghostwriter for our songs, but none of the people we’ve found seem right- but that song was amazing, just the kind of stuff we like!” Ignoring the unreadable expression on Atem’s face, Yugi dug out his cardholder and passed one of them up to Atem. “I don’t wanna blindside you more than I already have tonight- sorry about that again, but, I really think you’d be a perfect fit for us. Think about it, and if it seems interesting to you, come talk to me.”

Atem looked the card over for a second, before peering back at Yugi, “I’ve never really put my songs out there, it’s just a private hobby, I don’t want you and your bandmates to get your hopes up.”

Yugi waved off his concern, “Don’t worry about that. Like I said, just think about it, okay?” He didn’t move, nor look away from Atem until the man finally nodded in agreement. “Awesome! Take your time and come talk to me once you’ve thought about it some.” His outgoing steam was starting to run out, his bold and somewhat rude actions finally starting to catch up to him. In a sudden burst of embarrassment, Yugi brought his hand up to scratch at the back of his head. “Anyway, I’ll let you go now, I’m sure you want to get home or get on with your night. It was nice meeting you, Atem!”

And with a wave, Yugi was heading for the door, leaving a rather bewildered Atem in his wake.

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yugioh x reader #yugioh #Atem #yami yugi #band AU #Yugioh Band AU #series: a thousand songs

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years ago

Text

be as you’ve always been

Alternate Title: everyone’s nb bitch, let’s get you some gender affirming underwear

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This is based on a request by the lovely @minky-for-short and some truly beautiful art of Caduceus which you can see and bask in here. Huge thanks to @tendermosses for letting me base a ficlet on their work and for always doing such amazing art for fjord and caduceus!

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Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 or reblogging to let me know what you think!

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Caduceus had known, since moving out of the grove and into the city, that his life went at a very different pace to most people’s. He didn’t know if it was because he was a firbolg, because he talked more to trees with lifespans of centuries than to people or because of brain chemistry reasons. But why's had never particularly concerned Caduceus, he tried to take people as they were, as long as they did the same for him.

And these people made decisions almost without thinking, they moved from one task to the next without pause, one word could send them careening onto a completely new train of thought while Caduceus was stuck on one three stations back.

And some did it so quickly, so without any kind of traceable logic, that all Caduceus could do was cling on as tight as he could and follow along in complete ignorance to see where he ended up.

But then he spoke to some of his friends and realised, to his mild relief, that no. That was just what Mollymauk and Jester were like.

He also realised that sometimes it led to very good things.

Molly and Jester were two of his closest friends and two of his most regular customers, given that the theatre where Mollymauk worked was just down the block and that Jester had an addiction to sweet things. They were usually there, talking together or with their partners, and Caduceus had grown to love the sound of their voices mixing pleasantly with the noise of the cafe.

That evening, a half hour shy of closing, they had both been sitting on the tall chairs against the counter, Jester’s short legs swinging happily halfway up, Molly’s lanky ones folded underneath him but they would have touched the floor if he’d let them. The discussion had turned to sewing, how best to work with the sequined and beaded fabric Molly needed to wrestle for the theatre’s next show without breaking his sewing machine.

Caduceus had been scoring tomorrow’s loaves with the elaborate leaf and vine patterns he liked to do, bringing his work out onto the counter because there were no other customers in and so he could listen to his friend’s chatter. Jester had been recounting a memorable night with some sequinned lingerie she’d bought the other week, how so many had come loose and turned up in places they weren’t meant to be that she’d had to buy new sheets, Molly cackling and snorting at all the appropriate places. Or, rather, inappropriate places.

Caduceus had murmured, not particularly minding whether they heard him or not, that lingerie mystified him a little but he’d always wanted to give it a try.

The immediate silence told him his friends had definitely heard. And the look they gave each other, barely concealed glee and eagerness, told him they intended to do something about it.

Which brought Cad to where he was now, legs folded almost up to his chest, in the cramped passenger seat of Mollymauk’s car. Caduceus didn’t know a lot about cars but it didn’t take much to see that Molly’s had gone beyond being on its last legs and was now running on pure willpower and prayers to the Moonweaver. It felt like the bass of the music pouring out of the speakers was going to be enough to shake it apart and Jester piped up from the back seat that the door handle had come off.

“There’s duct tape under the seat, babe,” Molly called back, unconcerned, learning forward to turn down the volume when he saw how Cad was wincing but being too awkward to say anything.

“You really don’t need to do this,” Cad insisted gently, “You’ve both been working all day, it’s getting late...”

“So have you,” Jester pointed out, voice a little indistinct through the strip of tape she was holding in her teeth, “And we don’t mind, it’ll be fun! We can help you pick out something nice! Anyhow, Beau and Yasha are at the gym until eight, Fjord too.”

“And Caleb has the kids,” Molly hummed, spinning the wheel lazily, far further than he should really have to just to take an easy corner, “This is a bonding exercise, Deucey. You need back up on something like this. You need your GNC club.”

“GNC?” Caduceus tilted his head.

“Gender non conforming,” Molly supplied, “You know, people who get it. Gender’s dead but friendship is not.”

“Your NB buddies!” Jester grinned, her head pushing in between the two of them, duct tape stuck to her horns, catching her homemade earrings with the plastic gummy bears, “Wait...your NBuddies!”

Caduceus considered that, his ears flapping a little as he took the tape off for Jester. He liked the idea of being part of a club. Even more, he liked the idea of being understood. He’d been worried about that when he’d first moved, breaking away from the grove where things were fluid and constantly changing as nature itself and entering a place where there might be rules and expectations in place that made sense to everyone but him. Where he would have to explain himself and define himself with terms that weren’t his own.

But here he was, feeling safe in a very unsafe vehicle, with friends to gladly cheer him on as he threw open the windows of the self he’d made a home in and tried new things.

Caduceus folded the piece of tape over and over in his long fingers and smiled.

“So what is it that mystifies you, exactly?” Mollymauk twitched some scandalous lace as they moved deeper into the boutique. Apparently this is where he and Jester had been coming for ages, enough that the drow behind the counter had known their names and greeted them with high fives.

“I guess...the concept?” Caduceus held his tail so it wouldn’t knock anything over, some of the displays were elaborate and delicate looking and full of things that would probably vibrate loudly if they hit the floor and that would be embarrassing, “I thought the idea of sex was to wear nothing rather than something. Where in the whole...process does this stuff come in?”

Molly nodded, managing to listen intently while dragging Jester by the tail so she wouldn’t dive headfirst into the costumes part of the shop, “Anywhere really. They make stuff you can still fuck in, if efficiency is what you’re worried about. But I think the function of this kind of outfit is to make you feel pretty, y’know? Get you in the right headspace, get you feeling yourself, yeah? It doesn’t always need to be about sex.”

“Sometimes I just wear pretty lingerie under my clothes cos it puts me in a good mood!” Jester bounced on the balls of her feet, ducking behind racks to sneak sips of the milkshake she’d smuggled past the cashier, “Helps me feel more like me.”

“Oh,” Cad said softly, tilting his head to consider the silk and satin and lace around them in a different way, “That sounds nice, actually.”

“Which is why it’s important to choose things you really like,” Molly nodded encouragingly, taking a sip of Jester’s shake and dodging the punch she aimed at his shoulder, “It’s a treat for yourself, this kind of stuff. And, when it inevitably shortens Fjord’s shorts by a good few inches because you’re going to look utterly stunning, that’s a bonus.”

Caduceus turned pink under his fur, a smile playing on his lips, “You think he’d like me wearing this kind of thing?”

“If you love yourself in it, Caddy, he will,” Jester beamed confidently.

“So...what’s catching your eye?” Molly prompted, seeing the excitement in his bright purple eyes, “They’ve got a good size range here, gaps for tails. Anything you like, they’ll have it to fit you.”

Caduceus looked around, ears lifting and whiskers twitching with interest. Anything he liked. No need to wonder if they would have things made to fit his tall, awkward body, no need to feel the pinching anxiety he’d grown too familiar with in clothing shops. A place where he could fit. And the only purpose was to make him feel beautiful.

“I like...green. And I like flowers.”

Molly and Jester shared that look again, the look of remembering when they’d had that moment of realisation too, when they’d discovered the world had space for them as they were. A look of delight at seeing it happen for their friend too and knowing they’d had a hand in it.

“Let’s get to work then,” Molly grinned.

Caduceus still had a little more time before Fjord came back from the gym. They’d checked and double checked the sizes on everything but Mollymauk still advised trying them on to make sure he was happy with them. And honestly, Cad’s excitement meant he didn’t want to wait.

So he stood in front of the full length mirror, after clearing away the clothes that were draped over it, with his hair gathered up in a thick bun at the nape of his neck, wearing little beyond the dull gold light of the sunset coming in through the windows. He’d bought three sets at the store and a few bits of jewellery to go through his piercings, actually a rather modest haul compared to what Molly and Jester bought for themselves but he was just starting out, after all.

There was one in green silk with garters and lace panels. There was a bodysuit made of mostly straps in a mossy blue colour that reminded him of water and looked pretty against his fur. But he quickly decided his favourite. The main material was sheer, meant to look like it wasn’t there at all, so the effect was that he’d laid a number of beautiful, intricately embroidered flowers across his body, teasingly concealing the barest amount.

That one he couldn’t quite bear to take off, even after he saw it fit him perfectly. Caduceus kept turning this way and that, grinning widely, seeing how it looked from different angles, touching the fabric, feeling how the stitches rose and fell under his fingertips. He looked like a dryad, wearing only sunlight and flowers, glowing from the inside out with an ethereal, untouchable kind of beauty.

And he liked it. He liked it a lot.

Caduceus had always felt mostly at home with how he expressed himself. He’d had eighty years to decide who he was and to know it was okay, that the Wildmother would always accept him and some individuals would not and that was outside of his control. Dysphoria was a word he’d learned the meaning of only after he’d moved to the city.

But this was the first time he’d been able to understand why Fjord looked at him the way he did, why he wanted him. Those dark nights when he’d lain awake with his head on his boyfriend’s chest and listened to the heart that was promised to him and wondered why, of all the people in the world, Fjord’s body stirred for him, those nights felt far away right now. Because he could see it for himself now. There was a connection in his mind, clear as day, that had been dark before.

He was beautiful. He was desirable. And this was good to know.

Caduceus mustn’t have heard the front door open, more in his head and in the mirror than in their bedroom. He mustn’t have heard Fjord throwing his bag down in the hall, his heavy footfalls across the old, creaking wood.

All Cad heard was the bedroom door starting to swing and his boyfriend’s call of, “I’m home, love, just going to showe-oh.”

Cad turned quickly, the magic broken, suddenly only able to think about the fact that he was wearing ridiculous lingerie with absolutely no warning, no rose petals or candles or glasses of champagne to try and pretend this was a deliberate surprise, “Fjord! Sorry, I...I was just…”

He faltered for words but couldn’t find any. Though it seemed Fjord was having the same difficulty. He was in his gym clothes, shirt still sticking to his chest and hair pushed back from his damp forehead with a simple band. And his jaw was on the floor. And his eyes...

“Um...Molly and Jester took me shopping today?” Cad explained, feeling heat rise to the surface of his skin for a different reason, “I thought I’d try something new.”

Fjord swallowed hard, his eyes wide and darting, unable to decide which part of Caduceus they wanted to stare at most, “Yeah? You...you look...I mean, god, Cad…”

Cad’s smile was back, flickering into life, “I look pretty, don’t I?”

Fjord gave a soft laugh, his eyes practically flooding over, “Pretty? Cad, there aren’t even words, love.”

Caduceus’ ears flapped and his tail curled in the air. He liked that. He liked the idea of things that could be said without words.

“Can I?” Fjord stepped forward, muscles coiled and ready, body telegraphing his need as clearly as a hunting animal.

“Oh please,” Cad breathed, “Fjord, please.”

It was well and truly night by the time they were done and Caduceus was pleased to learn he could feel just as beautiful once the lingerie had been eagerly pulled away. It was like a light had been switched on somewhere inside him and on it would stay.

He slept contentedly, easily, head resting on Fjord’s chest. His braid was undone, hair settling over his shoulders in waves made wild by his boyfriend’s fingers passing through it again and again. His lips were swollen pleasantly and flushed, his body would be full of well earned aches in the morning.

He was the most beautiful thing Fjord had ever seen.

He was ready for sleep himself, more than ready, but before he settled down to let himself drift away in his boyfriend’s arms, the only way he could ever really sleep completely peacefully, he had something to do. He pulled his phone out, fortunately within reach because his shorts had ended up hanging off the bedside lamp. Just a quick text, sent to two of his friends- Little Blue and Peacock according to his contact list.

thank you. seriously guys THANK. YOU.

And if Molly and Jester hadn’t been busy with their own partners, their own purchases, their own bliss, they would have seen it and grinned that grin again.

But there would be time in the morning.

#fjorclay #caduceus clay #fjord #critical role #everyone is trans #everyone is gay #modern au #fluff #smut #please let me know what you think!#teahaw

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writing-blog-iguess · 5 years ago

Text

Nightmares (5)

Summery: With the threat taken care of last year, and graduation over and done with. Y/N Henderson spends her summer working at Scoops Ahoy! with Robin and Steve. She thought she would have a normal summer, but when Dustin comes to her work and tells Steve what he’s uncovered. She has a feeling that the Upside Down isn’t down with them yet.

Warning: swearing.

AN: Different summery but it’s a continuation of Nightmares. I’m not sure when the next part will be posted but where’s five. Hope you like it, enjoy!

taglist: @daddystevee

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Masterlist

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With college applications sent, school done and graduation over. There wasn't much for you to do but wait around until acceptance letters came.

Dustin was off to camp for a month, it seemed Hopper needed you less and less with watching El and everyone seemed to be busy.

This summer was starting to look really boring for you.

"Why don't you get a job at that new mall that just opened," your mother suggested as you groaned for the fourth time. You rolled your head from your spot on the floor to look up at her.

"Why would I do that?"

"Well, it would give you something to do. And it would help pay for school," she explained, looking down at you with a smile.

That's how you found yourself working at an ice cream place in the mall.

Though it did have some perks. You get free ice cream, get to see the party once in awhile. Granted, it's only to sneak them in the theatre. And you get to work with Steve and Robin.

Though you knew Robin from school, you've never really talked. And on your first week with working with Robin, you became fast friends. Much to Steve's dismay.

Though working with Steve was great, it also meant having to listen and watch him flirt with everyone but you. It did hurt but you were a master of hiding your feelings, or so you thought.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Steve called from the back room. You opened the window connecting the two rooms and leaned on it, waiting for the question. "When does Dustin get back?"

"Honestly, with the two of you being so close I'm starting to wonder if I need to worry about being replaced."

"Oh definitely," Robin answered before Steve had the chance. "Definitely should be worried."

Shrugging, you turned to her. "Then Robin, mind being my best friend?"

"If I get to replace dingus over here? Most definitely," she answered, laughing.

"You guys are mean," Steve muttered. The bell above the door rang, indicating there was a customer. Turning around you smiled.

"Welcome to Scoops Ahoy! How may I help you?" you asked in your best customer voice. When they ordered you got to work and gave them their total. "He comes back tomorrow," you answered after they left.

"Ah man! I have to work tomorrow."

"Sucks to be you. I don't," You sang as you served another customer. The back door opened, revealing a disgruntled looking Steve.

"Cover my shift," Steve demanded, and if you turned to look behind you, you would see the puppy eyes. All you did was snort and shook your head.

"No. I've earned my day off," you replied. Steve deflated and hung his head. You patted his shoulder as you walked past him. "You'll learn to get over it. Now get to work." Saying that you gently pushed him towards the counter and closed the door.

"Shouldn't you be working?" you asked Robin as you sat down.

She shrugged, popping her gum. "Steve's got the front right now and I've got the back."

"Right." You stared at the clock and groaned. Only an hour away from your shift ending and all you could do was think about your bed.

"So," Robin mused watching your take out a book to read, "you and Steve."

"What about it?" you asked behind your book. You had a slight feeling where this was going and you didn't really want to talk about it.

"You two dating?" You gave Robin a pointed look and pointed to the board on the wall behind you.

"I think that answers your question."

"Yeah but the way you two are around each other. It had me thinking that you two were dating. With all the flirting around and stuff."

"Well we're not," you said going back to your book. "And I doubt that's going to happen," you muttered to yourself.

"Guys! Gonna need some help out here!" Steve called from the front. You gave Robin a look and she puffed out her cheeks.

"Fine! I'll go only because you're on your break," she said. You gave her a smile and waved her away. "You just have to do inventory before you leave."

"Yeah yeah," you said, dismissing it. If you stayed back here for the rest of your shift you should be golden.

You weren't sure how you ended up working with Steve. You knew he applied here a week after you gotten the job.

You had faith he'd find a job sure, you just didn't think it'd be here. With you.

Thirty minutes later Steve walked in the back while you were checking over the inventory.

"Please cover my shift for me tomorrow," he begged again. You rolled your eyes and wrote something down.

"I will do no such thing," you answered, continuing your work. "Besides, there's always the day after."

"But I was hoping I'd pick him up," Steve groaned, slumping on the table.

"The friendship you have with my brother is quite something," you mused, "I'm not sure if it's heartwarming or just plain weird."

"Which side are you leaning more towards?" Steve asked, leaning against the table, watching you.

"Heartwarming I guess," you mused tapping the pen on your chin. "it's nice to have someone that's a dude in Dustin's life. And I'm glad it was you. Anyone would be glad to have you in their life," you explained, missing the blush on Steve's cheeks.

When Steve's break was done, he helped you finish with inventory. You managed to finish it just before your shift ended.

"Thanks for helping me finish this," you breathed offering him a smile. "I know how much you hate having to do inventory."

Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "No worries. I'm sure it'll give you peace of mind knowing that neither me nor Robin has to do it."

That is very much true. When it came to doing inventory, you always volunteered and they always left it for you. Recently, numbers calmed you and you weren't sure why.

"Hey dingus, (Y/N)! You're children are here," Robin called and you shared a look with Steve.

"They need to stop using us," Steve grumbled walking towards the door. You went to where your stuff was and packed everything up.

"Hey (Y/N)," the party greeted as they walked through the back room.

"You guys need to pay for movie tickets," you answered. "We're going to get in trouble."

"Yeah yeah," Mike waves it off. "Hey, aren't you suppose to be going to Hoppers?"

"Shit!" Quickly grabbing the rest of your stuff, you clocked out, waved goodbye to everyone and ran out.

Ever since Hopper became El's guardian, you offered to teach El schooling. Just the basics really. Like reading, writing and math.

It became one of your favourite things to do after school over the pst year. And you wanted to continue it until she was ready. And it seemed El loved having you around the house too.

Driving as fast as you could, you hoped that El isn't going to be too mad at you. Though you brought just the thing for her forgiveness.

Pulling up towards the house, you climbed out and yelled that you were here.

The door slammed open the minute you stood in front onf El and was met with her crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry I'm late," you apologized holding up a container or cookies you made sure to pack before your shift. "I would have forgotten to come to if Mike didn't say anything."

That seemed to brighten her mood and she took the container. "Is it chocolate chip?"

You nodded following her into the house. "Of course. I'll always make your favourite."

El beamed and ate a cookie. "Not Dustin?" she asked, tilting her head to watch you unpack movies.

"Sometimes. Depends on how big of an ass he is to me," you answered, smiling when she laughed. "I figured today we can just watch movies and eat junk food."

"But it's not allowed," El grumbled. You looked up and winked.

"Hopper doesn't need to know." Squealing, El went to grab pillows and blankets while you prepared snacks. And together, you two made your own blanket fort.

It wasn't until you were settled and the movie playing that you felt something. Like that feeling you get when you watch something scary, and goosebumps crawl up your skin. You shivered at the feeling and brought the blanket closer.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." You gave her a smile and turned to the TV, not quite shaking the feeling that something was coming.

You were walking around Hawkins in a daze. It was foggy and kind of reminded you of the Upside Down. It even felt like the Upside Down.

With this thought, you looked around sighing in relief that you weren't. But that feeling didn't seem to go away.

With nothing to do, you walked trying to look for someone, anyone really. You couldn't find anyone, it was just you.

You stopped in a field of the school and just looked around. You felt a shiver run down your back. The only other time you've felt it was at Hoppers.

Not sure what the feeling was, you turned around hoping to find something. Anything to tell you what it meant. But you found nothing.

The slamming of the front door jolted you wake. You sat up straight when you realized that it was Hopper and quickly threw a blanket over the food. Beside you, El rubbed her eyes as started to wake up.

"Morning sleepyheads," Hopper greeted walking towards the bathroom. "How was movie night?"

"Good," El replied. "We had fun."

Hopper grunted causing the two of you to giggle.

With Hopper in the bathroom, the two of you began cleaning up the mess and started on breakfast. "You don't have to make breakfast, Y/N."

"Yes I do," you answered, giving him a look. "The two of you eat enough waffles as it is. At least this way El gets to experience different foods and you actually get a decent meal that's not junk food."

"Says the one that snuck in junk food last night," Hopper pointed out, smirking.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you denied, keeping busy with putting eggs and bacon on the plates.

"I'm pretty sure I was some candy wrappers sticking underneath the blankets when I walked in."

"Busted." You sighed, poking a tongue at her causing her to giggle.

"Okay yeah sure. I brought junk food last night," you conceded, "it was a treat for El. She's getting better with her schooling so she deserved it." El beamed at the complement and brought the plates to the table.

"Yeah that she does," Hopper agreed. You all sat down and began eating as you talked about the movies you've watched last night. You neglected to mention the dream you had last night, not wanting to freak out El or Hopper. And you were determined to figure it out first before telling them.

"Isn't Dustin coming home today?" Hopper asked. You nodded as you shoveled food in your mouth.

"Yeah. Mom's going to pick him up after breakfast and there's a welcome home party when he gets here," you answered and paused when the thought sunk in. "Aw shit. I got get home and actually cook for that."

"Pizza," El suggested. You shook your head and sighed.

"I wish I could but I'm saving the money I do get for school. That and I already got Mom to buy the things I need." You ate the rest of your food and stood up. "Are you coming with me? Or is Mike coming to get you?" you asked and almost missed Hopper's reaction when you said Mike. "I remember you guys saying that you were going to decorate while I cooked."

"Mike," El answered.

"Alright, then I'll see you later El." Picking up your dishes, you rinsed them off and waved them goodbye before walking out of the house.

By the time you parked the car and walked in, your mom left, leaving a note stating when she would be back with Dustin. With a lot to do, you decided to take a shower first. Once that was done, you started making lunch and dessert for everyone.

It was nearing lunch when the party came and started decorating.

"Hey, Y/N?" Will called, walking into the kitchen. You hummed waiting for the brownies to be done. "Did you feel anything last night?"

"Feel what?"

"Like a shiver of something." He sounded unsure if he wanted to explain it more. "Like the Upside Down," he whispered and you dropped your spoon into the brownie batter. Will nodded and took that reaction as a yes. "So you did feel it too."

"Yeah. I just...I couldn't pinpoint where I've felt it before," you answered turning to him. You looked past him to make sure no one was listening and turned back to him. "Was it the first time you felt it?"

"Yeah, you?"

You nodded, biting your lip debating whether or not you should tell Will about your dream from last night. You chose not to, not wanting to freak him out more then he already was. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"If you're sure then okay," Will mumbled, not believing it. You had a hard time believing it yourself.

"They're here!" Lucas called cutting in your conversation.

Resting a hand on his shoulder, you gave it a squeeze and smiled. "It might be nothing we don't know. But for now, go have fun."

With a nod, Will quickly gave you a hug and rushed into the living leaving you with your thoughts.

If both you and Will had that feeling last night plus that dream you had, you were sure that any of you were done fighting the Upside Down.

The timer went off for the brownies, you turned around and took them out of the oven. Glad you were done cookies for today, you were exhausted and needed a nap. It didn't help that you slept on the floor last night.

After washing your hands, you made your way to your room and plopped down on the bed, falling asleep immediately.

The door of your room slamming into the wall woke you up and you groggily glared at the culprit. "What do you want Dustin?"

"You didn't even say hi," he pointed out ignoring the glare.

"Hi," you stated and turned around to try and go back to bed. But Dustin wouldn't let you.

"We're going to go talk to my girlfriend. Wanna come?"

"I think I'll pass," you mumbled. The words set in and you whipped around to stare at Dustin. "Wait, you have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah. Suzie," Dustin answered with a big smile. "She's hotter than Phoebe Cates."

"I, uh, okay. Okay you know what? Sure let's go."

And an hour later, you and everyone else was walking up the biggest hill in Hawkins. You trailed behind the party, not bothering to listen to the conversation.

"Hey guys," Mike called, "this is fun and all but uh-"

"I have to go home," El finished the sentence.

"We're almost there," Dustin pointed out.

"Sorry man." With that Mike and El left. The rest of the party continued the rest of the walk but Will stayed behind.

"Hey, you okay?" you ask, suddenly shuddering.

"You felt it to?"

"Mm. Let's hope it's nothing," you said, squeezing his shoulder. Dustin called for you guys and you gave Will a smile. "Come on lets go."

A couple of hours later you finally reached the top of the hill. Now all you needed was to set up Dustin's ham radio.

"Are you going to help, (Y/N)?" Dustin asked, seeing you lying down on the ground. You opened your eyes to stare at them and shook your head.

"Looks like you're almost done," you answered, closing your eyes again.

"Asshole." Your answer was to give him the middle finger and an I love you.

But you were right, they were almost done and they plopped down as they watched Dustin trying to call Suzie.

You weren't sure how long it was, but Dustin kept trying and eventually Max, Lucas and Will left, leaving you and Dustin.

"Dustin, I don't think she's going to answer," you sleepily drawled out, once everyone left. "It's gotta be close to midnight and everyone's left. Let's go home."

"You're only saying that because you don't believe me," Dustin pointed out before repeating, "Suzie do you copy?"

"No," you argued, rolling your head to look at him. "I'm saying that because I have the opening shift and I have to get up early."

"I thought you don't sell ice cream until eleven or whatever."

"We do. But there's a lot of shit that needs to be done before I can officially open the shop," you explained, "and since Robin or Steve never work the morning shift. I have to fucking do it because they like to sleep in and apparently need their beauty sleep."

"In Steve's defense, he does need his sleep if he wants to look that good."

You mockingly gagged and turned back to the sky. "I thought I was suppose to have a crush on him not you."

Dustin laughed. "How's that going anyways?"

"Nowhere. He's blind that he can't see it. Though I'm positive Robin knows."

"Is he working tomorrow?" You hummed a yes, nearly falling asleep. "Cool. I'll probably show up tomorrow then to see Steve. And maybe you," he added as an after thought. You didn't answer, and Dustin looked around and shook his head. "Of course you're sleeping, I shouldn't be surprised."

You didn't wake up for awhile, not until Dustin shook you awake shouting about something he found. You were to tired to try and figure it out he was trying to say. But you could have sworn he said something about a Russian message or something.

But whatever it was, it could wait until tomorrow, when you've had enough sleep.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #stranger things #henderson reader #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #steve harrington #el #mike wheeler #jim hopper #nightmares #part 5 #my writing

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bibliocratic · 5 years ago

Text

soft domestic jonmartin

“Jon!” Martin is shouting with his head shoved in the under-stairs closet. Tone deadened to a loud mumble, and he's knocked something heavy over that sounds like the ironing board or the drying rack in his attempt to grab things that he always inconveniently shoves away right at the back. “You got your raincoat?”

“I won't need it,” comes the low response from the kitchen.

“The weather said it might rain.”

“It'll be fine,” Jon replies, only half listening really, with a willfully misplaced confidence in the weather.

(And it will rain when they get off the train, a spatter of showers that they get caught in, and the coat will be in the suitcase, inaccessible. Martin won't say anything as Jon huddles against him as they share the single umbrella, but the smugness will be in the tone of his voice as he comments on the laden clouds – looks like it might be a proper downpour, Jon, shame the weather man didn't predict anything like this – and Jon will run his hands through his thinning hair already dripping into his face and weather this with the appropriate amount of mild chagrin, knowing Martin will take pity and relent momentarily, fuss over the damp and the cold and Jon's endless ability to catch whatever bug is going round, and bundle him into a cafe to dry off.)

“I'll pack it anyway,” Martin calls back, kicking something else with his foot that sounds like the hoover. “In case.”

Jon sighs, but it is a long-worn gentle sound that did not expect to win this ground. He resumes his task, folding and rolling a weeks worth of their combined shirts, sweaters and trousers neatly and efficiently into their modest suitcase. He is very good at this, packing. Always has been good at finding room for things when he thought nothing else would fit. It brings him a self-satisfied pride, knowing each thing has its place, that there will be space for more.

(Martin will insist on buying a fridge magnet from the first tacky shop they see on the seafront, a few postcards to send to Basira, Daisy, Georgie and Melanie. Jon will find a way to sneak off as he always does and buy another souvenir spoon to add to his expansive collection, one for every place he's been with Martin, this one with a blue and silver crest adorning the top, and he'll play innocent when Martin comes across it cleaning a month later – I thought I told you I got another one / Jon, we don't have the room, you're going to have to start putting them in boxes up the loft / I will, fine, I will, tomorrow. )

Tucked subtly at the bottom of the case where Martin won't think to look, Jon's placed two smart dress shirts and matching ties. The dress shirt is the mint coloured one with the little embroidered flourishes on the collar tips, Martin's favourite, the one he always wears when he wants to impress; it's worn at the under-arms a little, the button right at the bottom lost somewhere and Jon knows Martin will look dashing in it. He'll need help with the tie because he always does but that's where Jon comes in. Martin doesn't know Jon's booked a table at a nice restaurant tomorrow, theatre tickets for the early evening, and Jon's giddy in his own way to reveal it like a bouquet of flowers from a magician's sleeve.

(Jon will touch the ring on Martin's right ring finger – with the tenderness of the joints in his hands, the way they sometimes swell in the cold, it's too small to be worn on the traditional place; but then again when has tradition ever really mattered – and Martin will call him soft, and Jon will know Martin is looking at him like that and Jon will not disagree).

“Socks?” he shouts out, wondering if Martin's left the closet yet or if he's found another umpteen things he's thought that they should bring. He has already argued Martin out of bringing an extra book (You won't have time to read it, it'll just take up room), walking boots (It's Dorset, Martin, not the Peak District), and his Polaroid camera (You're already bringing the digital one, and we've only got a few shots left, we should save them for Georgie's birthday party).

“I put them with the boxers. Next to the toaster.”

Jon huffs and moves away from the suitcase spread-eagle on the kitchen table to grab the messy, teetering pile of boxers and socks on the counter-top. He hums off-key and mindless as he brings them back to his workspace, refolding them to stuff them down the sides of the suitcase, smoothing over rucks and bumps, double checking on the ties stuffed into the spare pair of shoes Martin had won the argument for.

A flump in front of him and Martin is dropping things onto his carefully organised packing. Jon frowns, and touches at the wool. They're going to Bournemouth, he thinks with another internal eye-roll, not the Outer Hebrides.

“Really, we won't need all this.”

“Just in case.”

This is Martin's mantra. He's an 'everything-goes' sort of packer. There is a reason Jon is the one responsible for wielding an iron-fisted utilitarian hand over this aspect of the holiday.

Jon runs a hand over the fabric, bobbling in places, darned at the fraying edges of the sleeves. Well-loved and well-washed.

“Another jumper?” he says, ready to dismiss it with another lecture on saving space.

“It's to wear now. It'll be cool all morning, I checked. You'll be cold on the train.”

Jon concedes this battle as to his circulation like he does every time, and does as he's bid, shoving it over his head without complaint. Martin fixes his collar so it sticks out over the neckline, smooths down any hair that's been disrupted, making some comment about that barber down the road doing a nice job with the cut this time, before declaring with a cheeky smirk that 'he'll do'. Jon makes an affected moue, and cups his face, kisses his cheek, making a comment that he'll just have to try harder. These things are routine now. Beloved in their repetition.

“Have you got the tickets?” Martin asks. It's the third time he's checked, but Jon replies with steady patience.

“In the backpack, at the front.”

“Pills? There should be enough. I went to Boots to fill up your prescription this morning.”

“Same place. What about you? You have enough?”

“I've got enough for another week before I have to go back.”

“You taken yours for the journey?”

“I'll see how I go.”

“Martin,” Jon says. Not admonishing but with an echo of his old battle-axe charm he used to possess in his earlier days. “Come on.” He knows Martin won't have taken any, doesn't like to feel too dependent on them. But travelling is stressful at the best of times, never mind in London, what with the traffic and the noise and the people and the jostling, and the crowds can unsettle him.

Jon's pulling them out of his trouser pocket, a little packet still mostly full, and passing them over.

“They make my mouth dry,” Martin complains, but he goes and fills a glass of water from the tap and dutifully swallows one he pops out of the crackling foil.

“We can buy something nice to drink before we get onboard,” Jon promises, tucking the pills into the front pocket of the backpack next to Jon's.

“You spoil me,” Martin says dryly and Jon feels his face crinkle in a smile. He zips the suitcase shut and gives a little voila.

“Taxi should be here in ten,” he says. “Oh, remind me that we're going to need some more tea bags for when we get back.”

“Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“We're going to need more tea bags for when we get back.”

“Oh hahaha.”

Jon had made a checklist on his phone, mostly to appease Martin, and he hears him running down what's been noted as essential, muttering to himself to clarify – so we've got all the t-shirts, sandals for the beach, you've got the tickets and if not there's the email confirmation, checked the train line websites, all networks running as usual and on time.....

Jon puts his arms around Martin's back as he reads, letting his head rest against him. Martin's used his nice body wash this morning, sandalwood and citrus, the stuff he uses when he thinks the day's going to be a particularly good one. He's put on a little too much aftershave as usual.

“You should have a nap on the train,” he says, interrupting Martin's review. “Heard you moving around all night.”

“Just my leg giving me grief. I got a heat pack, it helped some. I'll be ok,” Martin hums in reply. Jon doesn't respond, but he is quietly confident in the knowledge that once they've found their seats, Martin will drop off like a cliff-edge, and Jon will get to listen to his audiobooks until he has to nudge him awake to say they're nearly there.

(Martin will fall asleep on him, head a solid weight on Jon's shoulder and not even out of London yet, and Jon will thread their hands together before he starts up his current Le Carre book, one headphone dangling out so he can both listen for the stops and to hear the staff with the drinks trolley in advance. Martin will wake up with a jolt and a snuffle and a 'wethereyetJon?' and Jon will say 'Only just passed Southampton' and press a mediocre, still cooling cup of tea into his hand.)

There's a chirp and a brush by Jon's trouser leg.

“Hello you,” he says to the Duchess.

You fed her?” he asks Martin.

There's a hopeful cry that implies that eons have passed since she was last given sustenance.

“She's been fed and she knows it.” Martin replies, sounding as though he is immune to the charms of their cat (he is not), and that he won't be tempted into giving her a few more treats before they leave (he will).

“I've given Tom house keys,” Martin says finally, checking that last one off the list. “He'll pop in tonight to feed her and change the litter tray, make sure no one robs us or anything.”

“All your books,” Jon replies without intonation. “How could they resist?”

Martin makes some snarky comment about how he hopes any hypothetical thief might help Jon slim down his spoon collection, and Jon snorts and gives his back a little headbutt to show he doesn't approve.

“We'll have to get him something to say thanks,” Martin continues, returning to their previous topic. “A stick of rock or something.”

“Hmm,” Jon says and doesn't move away from the heat of Martin's back, his arms still bracketing around Martin's stomach. He slept badly last night as well. Disturbed by Martin's restlessness and his own unforgiving dreams. Martin stands like a foundation stone before he turns around, the phone set next to the suitcase and fixes the situation to his liking, embracing Jon in a loose hug.

“You tired, love?”

“Hmm.”

“We can have a nap then, when we get to the hotel.”

“We aren't that old,” Jon grumbles, although his heart isn't really in it because honestly, a nap sounds great right about now.

Martin's hair, growing out on the long side now, scratches soft against Jon's face. It is still a vibrant carrot-top in Jon's head. He'll run his hands through springy curls still thick and knotted, or bestow sleep-slow kisses on it, and the recollection of that particular shade has never left him. Martin's hair hasn't been entirely ginger since the Watcher's Crown failed, to believe Martin, or Basira, who has always been entirely honest about the shipwrecks their life in the service of eldritch fear entities made of their youth, but Jon doesn't care. That's the memory he has, no matter how many laugh lines begin to grace and soften Martin's face, how often Martin wonders idly if he should dye his hair, get rid of the white. (He never will). Jon hasn't been able to see the mess of his own hair in a mirror for a long time now, but he doesn't need to know it's lost the war of attrition against the grey.

Two men who both look old before their time. Jon didn't even think they'd get this lucky.

There's a ping from Martin's phone.

“That'll be the taxi,” he says and grabs the suitcase, hefting it down off the table. “You got the tickets?”

“Yes, Martin,” Jon says, a little exasperated, but mostly fond, ever ever so fond. (He will say it like this for the rest of his life).

Jon grabs his stick, folded up and pockets it. Bends down, scratches the cat behind the ears, double-taps his own pockets to check on the theatre tickets.

“Let's go on holiday,” Jon says.

#jonmartin #tma #the magnus archives #fic #jon collects souvenir spoons prove me wrong #post-watchers crown #let them be happy

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megalony · 6 years ago

Text

I’d love to

A Roger Taylor imagine requested by the lovely @spaghetittiesbcimgay I hope this is what you wanted.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @butlegendsneverdie @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6

Roger Taylor masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roger hadn't seen her here before.

The other few times he had found himself wandering into the small cafe on the corner, Roger had never seen the girl standing behind the counter before. She wore one of those smiles that seemed to brighten up the cafe from dull light to a spotlight as if she were on centre stage in the theatre. Her head was ever so slightly angled to the side in a way that made her look like she was posing for a painting or sculpture. The drummer watched as her eyes drifted around the relatively empty cafe until their gazes interlocked as he made his way over to the counter she was standing behind.

A small shiver ran along the base of Roger's spine at the way her smile seemed to curve even more. The corners of her lips almost meeting her eyes as if she were trying to hide the blush creeping onto her features.

The drummer wasn't used to the way his heart suddenly fluttered like butterfly wings in his chest as he approached the counter. His fingers drumming against the counter from a sudden burst of adrenaline that swarmed through Roger's chest. He bit his lip to try and prevent his smile from widening too much as he kept his eyes on her, his mind trying to remember what he usually bought when he came in here.

His voice was rather quiet, slight roughness to his silk voice as there usually was as he managed to reel off his drink without falling over his words. Leaning forward Roger rested his arms on the counter as he watched the girl behind the counter begin to make his drink. Her lower lip being pulled between her teeth in concentration, the look making Roger unable to pull his gaze away from her. When she turned back around (Y/n) held the cup a little tighter in her hand to stop from spilling any at the look in the stranger's eyes that seemed to be shining a deep ocean blue.

Taking the money Roger was holding out to her, (Y/n) didn't miss the way that his fingers delicately brushed over the back of her hand. An innocent yet knowing smile on his face as he watched her get the change from the till.

"Here you go." (Y/n) was surprised her voice wasn't shaking from nerves that she never usually got when she was serving customers. It wasn't even her first day here anymore, she had been here for little over a week now. She pushed the cup on the counter over to him, her hand holding out his change as Roger pulled back so he was standing up again instead of leaning on the counter.

"Thank you... (Y/n)." His voice was like velvet as he peered a little closer to catch the name on the tag of her shirt. Picking up the cup, he reached out with his other hand to gently curl her fingers around the change in her hand before he disappeared to the seat in the corner of the cafe. Sitting next to the window where he always did, pulling out a few folded pieces of paper and a pen from his jacket pocket so he could work on some lyrics. There was always something about this cafe that was so relaxing.

It was never overcrowded or relatively busy at any one time so whenever Roger popped in he could sit in the same seat with no one to hear his quiet mumblings to himself or to peer over his shoulder to see what he was doing. And the service just got better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Y/n) couldn't stop the smile from pulling at her lips when she heard the chime of the door, her eyes glancing over to see that it was Roger appearing again. He seemed to filter in about three or even four times a week for the past two weeks, and every time that he was in he made a point of talking to (Y/n). Sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for longer leading her to know his name, he was in a band and he had recently come back from a tour of the states. She also knew there were two specific drinks he liked to order, one was a very simple coffee on the menu and the other was a cup of tea which he seemed to like a little more than the coffee.

Looking back down to the table for a moment she continued to wipe down the table which coincidently happened to be the one that Roger frequented every time he came into the cafe.

"Mornin' love." Roger commented, a bright smile on his features as his hand gently grazed over (Y/n)'s elbow before he sat down sending electricity flooding through her nerves. His hands entwining together as he rested them on the table in front of him, looking up to her with that same bright smile he always wore when he came in. More to the point, it was the smile he always had when he looked at (Y/n).

"Morning Rog. What'll it be today, tea, coffee or something completely different?" (Y/n) stood in front of Roger as she watched the consideration on his features, wondering what drink he felt like today.

"Surprise me." That wasn't what (Y/n) had been expecting but at the same time, it wasn't a bad response. He switched between the only two drinks he would order so often she could just pull one out of the hat and he wouldn't mind which he was given. She didn't think it wise to give him a completely different drink in case those were the only two he liked or fancied from the menu, but a small idea perked in the back of her mind. Nodding her head with a smile, she disappeared behind the counter that was only a few feet on Roger's left. Giving him a perfect view to watch her concoct a surprise drink for him today.

The drummer had been lucky the first week when he came to the cafe to find that each time he had picked were times when (Y/n) was on shift. So the next week he appeared at the same times to make sure he wouldn't miss her, and today was no different. He didn't quite know what it was, but there was something different about her that was drawing him in like a fish on a hook. He was completely enamoured by the beautiful waitress and he wasn't letting her slip away that easily.

He just needed to find the courage to ask her out.

Roger had scattered his three pieces of paper and his pen out on the table in front of him before (Y/n) appeared back at his side again. Placing a medium sized, cream coloured cup at his side. Watching as a smile found its way onto his features as he leaned over the cup, smelling the comforting scent of tea. When his eyes flitted back up to look at (Y/n) Roger saw a glimmer in them as he kept the eye contact whilst taking a sip of the drink. His eyes narrowing on the cup as he smiled around the rim that was caught between his lips.

"Honey?" He questioned, glancing down to the cup before back up to (Y/n) as she nodded.

"You said to surprise you." (Y/n) responded, unable to keep the smile from her features as she turned around and headed back behind the counter when another customer came through the doors.

The drummer couldn't focus on the lyrics in front of him or the ones swirling around in his head when his eyes kept falling back to look at the girl who had captured his attention for these past two weeks. She had decided to run around in his mind and not leave even when he was trying to sleep, Roger knew he needed to get to know her better, he needed to see her outside of this cafe.

After a little while of observing her, Roger went back up to the counter with the now empty cup, pushing it towards her silently asking for a refill. He set down the money for both drinks when the refill was handed back to him with one of those smiles that made his knees go weak. Both of them had had enough of tiptoeing around one another like they were doing, they each wanted more than the small conversations here and there. Their eyes were magnets that were drawn back to one another after Roger sat down, managing to finish up two of the three different song lyrics he had brought with him today.

Glancing down to his watch, Roger saw that it was about time that he went. A sigh passing through his lips as he didn't really want to leave but he knew he should do now.

Running a hand through his hair, Roger stood to his feet as he stuffed the pieces of paper and the pen back into his pockets. Grabbing the cup Roger headed back over to the counter, leaning against it as he waited patiently for (Y/n) to finish up serving the previous customer before she made her way over to him.

"Another drink?" (Y/n) questioned, her smile faltering ever so slightly when Roger pursed his lips as he shook his head no.

"Got to head off I'm afraid... what time do you finish tomorrow?" The questioned caught (Y/n) by surprise as she took a deep breath, her stomach pulling inwards as butterflies ignited inside her stomach. She had wanted to see Roger outside of work but at the same time, she couldn't find the courage to ask, wondering if it would ruin what they had come to build up these past two weeks. Now that didn't seem to matter as he was taking the initiative and asking her instead.

"Um... five, why?" He could hear the nerves in her voice as her head did that little thing where it leans to the side making her seem like she was posing for a photograph. That was an action that he was beginning to fall for.

"I know this little place a few streets away, fancy going with me... for a date?" Roger really hoped he hadn't read the situation wrong. Begging that she wouldn't suddenly frown at him and tell him where to go or to get stuffed with his assumption. Maybe she already had someone, maybe she didn't want anyone, maybe she just didn't want to be with Roger.

What if all those little small talks, those beautiful smiles and little glances were just her being kind? What if she wasn't sneaking those glances because she wanted to go out with Roger but because she recognised him from the band? Because she saw him as a celebrity and simply wanted to know him instead of actually going out with him?

All of those worries faded with the wind when her smile widened yet differed at the same time. Showing a look on her features that Roger hadn't had the pleasure of seeing yet. A smile forming on his own lips as a look of excitement flooded onto (Y/n)'s face. Roger had taken the leap and asked her, this is what she had been waiting for these past two weeks. For one of them to finally pluck up the courage to ask the other out rather than having small conversations here and there in the cafe.

"I'd love to." At those words, Roger leaned across the counter and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek, biting back a shit-eating grin at her response that sent his heart rocketing in his chest.

"See you tomorrow."

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger x reader #imagine #queen band

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butwhyduh · 6 years ago

Text

Not Now

Part 1 of 2

College Tom Holland x reader

Warning: fluff in first chapter, angst in next.

Summary: reader is 27 and Tom is still 22. (Don’t freak out. It’ll make sense later.) She’s a teachers assistant and he’s a student. She also has a secret.

You worked in the science department. Student assistant for the anatomy and physiology department. You were working towards your masters in nursing. Being a student assistant was hard work but helped pay for your own classes. Anyone who wanted to go into any form of medical field had to pass A&P and it was known as the hardest medical class outside of medical school. Your job was to help people pass in anyway you could.

The students liked you. You were smart and kind but you had the sneaking suspicion that part of it was because you looked 19 even though you were almost a decade older. A few brave young men had even tried to hit on you.

There was no way that you were going to date some 19 year old. They were generally sweet smart kids but you had a kid. There was no way that they were ready for that.

Then you met Tom. And he wasn’t 19. He was 22. His brown eyes wide with wonder and his lips easily curled into smiles. He understood concepts and would ask smart questions in class. You ignored your little crush. Maybe you were just a bit lonely. But you knew that a 22 year wasn’t ready for kids. Not that you were wanting a replacement father. Your daughters father was a good dad but bad partner. But when Tom asked you out, you had a hard time saying no.

“So do you- you wanna get coffee?” He asked as he helped you put away the models. He was the last student. You looked at him quickly. Luckily he was looking away.

“Yeah, are you going to ask Steve,” you asked him testing the water.

“Mr Harrington? I wasn’t, er... I was hoping to ask you on a date,” he said blushing. His ears were bright and he busied himself with a skeletal model part.

“Oh, uh... yeah that would be great. Did you mean after we clean up?” You asked trying to reach a shelf with a heavy piece. Tom took it from you and placed it on the shelf.

“Yeah if that’s cool,” he said brightly. You mentally thought of child care. You had planned to come back a few hours later because you planned to buy groceries before coming home but you could take her with you instead.

“Sure,” you smiled back. You both began wiping the tables down with disinfectant wipes. He zipped across the lab counters with his wipes.

“Done. Are you ready?” Tom asked. You nodded and grabbed your coat.

“Are you ready for your final?” You asked him as you walked down the sidewalk. His fingers brushed you palm as you walked around a mail box but he was a gentleman and didn’t grab your hand.

“I am. I think I’ve had really great study help from a certain teaching assistant,” he said. You smiled.

“You’re the one learning. I only helped. But I can say that you are possibly, maybe, definitely the best in class,” you said. He grinned brightly.

“Can you even tell me that? Seriously, is that legal?” He asked opening the door to the coffee shop.

“I confirmed nothing and I will lie if asked,” you answered.

“You should have been a lawyer.”

An hour later your coffee was long gone and you both still talked. The conversation was easy and he seemed really nice. But you had to get your daughter.

“I hate to cut things short but I have to go. Life calls,” you told him.

“Oh, okay,” he said. His voice betrayed disappointment. “Can I call you sometime?”

“You already call me.”

“Not for school. Just to talk to you?”

“Sure,” you said. You gave him a quick hug and left to get your daughter. Telling someone that you had a kid on a first date was never a good idea. But waiting a long time wasn’t either. When do you tell someone you had a 6 year old?

“Mom,” Cara said before barreling into your arms. “I did a cartwheel today. Molley-Molley said I couldn’t but I did. And then- then she said a bad word!” She yelped. She twirled around you.

“What did she say?” You asked feigning excitement.

“I’m not saying! It’s a bad word mom,” she said back.

“She was great. Did her homework right away,” Tiffany, the babysitter, said. She was 19 and you were tutoring her in her freshman biology to help pay for her watching Cara after school.

“Good. Thanks. We’ll see you tomorrow okay?” You said grabbing Cara’s coat and giving it to her. Cara slipped it on and grabbed her backpack.

“Of course, bye Cara. I’m going to beat you at tag tomorrow,” Tiffany said smiling.

“Nope, I always win.”

“We’ll see.”

You walked down the hall to your own apartment. Cara helped you make dinner and it wasn’t long until she was asleep in bed. You watched the news and your eyes felt heavy. You phone rang. You looked down at it.

Tom: hey, what’s up?

Tom: I just looked at the time. Sorry. I hope it’s not too late.

Y/n: no. I’m awake. Just watching the news. You?

Tom: playing poker with my roommate. He’s losing badly😂

Y/n: yikes. Go easy on him.

Tom: he’s rich. He’ll be fine.

Tom: how are your classes going?

Y/n: good. Hard. 🙃

Why did I send that emoji? You thought. What does that even mean?

Tom: I feel you. Micro bio is killing me

Y/n: I can help you with that.

Y/n: if you want

Tom: that would be awesome. I can’t really pay you.

Y/n: we can do it during you anatomy tutoring.

Tom: thanks. I didn’t text you for that though.

Y/n: oh?

Tom: no. I like you. You’re super cool.

Tom: and pretty

Did he just- you flushed. Guys weren’t this forward.

Y/n: thanks☺️ you’re not bad looking yourself

Tom: 😎

Tom: so what are you doing tomorrow? Like evening?

Staying home with my daughter- you thought. Let me text Tiffany. You asked her to watch your daughter once again and she quickly responding that it was great.

Y/n: nothing. Do you want to do something?

Tom: Yeah, can I pick you up and get something to eat?

You gave him your address. You both texted for a few minutes before you told him you needed to go to bed. You lay in bed thinking about him. He was attractive and sweet and smart. But something seemed off. Not with him. You felt guilty for talking to him. Maybe it was because you hadn’t told him about your daughter yet? You decided that you would tell him on the date. No need to wait if he hates kids or something.

Your day seemed to go by slowly as you thought about your date. Tom hadn’t given a clear idea of where you were going but you assumed that it would be nice casual with him being a broke college kid. You hurried home and changed into something kinda nice and fixed your hair and makeup.

Soon you heard a soft knock on the door. You hurried to open it to Tom. He stood smiling in nice jeans and a grey polo. His shoes the only color with red sections around the white. You slipped on flats over heels. He might want to walk somewhere.

“So where to?” You asked.

“The dollar theatre,” he smiled. “They are having a twilight zone marathon on tonight. I hope that’s okay,” he said shyly.

“I love that,” you said.

“I thought some hot dogs on the way? I’m kinda broke,” he laughed nervously.

“Same. That sounds fine. I get them sometimes when I’m running late. Do you live on campus?”

“No. It’s a flat near campus. My roommate pays for it. He came over to college with me,” Tom said as you walked.

“The rich roommate?”

“Haha Yeah. He’s pretty wealthy. I was coming to the states for school and he tagged along. He’s taking acting classes so I guess he’s doing something? Probably will just inherit his family’s company,” Tom said paying for the hot dogs.

“So where exactly are you from?”

“London. I just wanted to get away. Travel. New York looked fun. Are you from the city?” He asked.

“Don’t tell anyone, but Jersey,” you said smiling. He laughed. His hand brushed your back as he lightly pulled you out of the way of someone jogging by. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said before buying tickets. You both sat in the top right corner with a bucket of popcorn. The theatre was pretty empty. Not surprising for a Thursday night twilight zone marathon. The show started and the familiar music played. This was one you hadn’t seen before and it wasn’t long before you had scooted closer to your date. Tom subtly shifted in his seat for you to lean into him better. You could smell his soft cologne. Halfway through the second episode Tom had gently placed his arm around your shoulder and by the fourth episode, you had buried your head in his chest at a scary part. He softly laughed and patted your back.

“It’s okay,” he said softly as it moved to the next scene. You sat close to him as the show played. You yawned at the 7th episode. “Are you ready to go? It’ll be all night.”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he said. You both stood and quietly left. His hand softly wrapped around yours as you walked. He smiled softly when you didn’t pull away. You both slowly walked back to your apartment. You stood in front of the door with your keys in hand, not quite ready for the date to end. You bit your lip and he looked at you softly. He stepped closer and you could see a small scar on his cheek. His nose was slightly crooked.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.”

His lips barely pressed against yours. The kiss was soft and gentle, questioning for permission. He broke the kiss faster than you would have liked.

“I’ll see you in class,” he said clearing his throat. “I had a good time.”

“See you,” you whispered.

Okay, so you chickened out of telling him about your daughter. But admittedly it was a quiet date. And to be honest you were scared to run him off. You’d tell him next time.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #college boyfriend tom #colleg!au

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emperor-lover · 7 years ago

Note

omggg your college aus are so good!! I always end up blushing and melting bc your writing makes me feel so involved? like it's actually happening, it transports me into this other world,,,,,anyWAY could I please request a college au for minki from nu'est? ty!!

*screams* yaaaaaaas A MINKI REQUEST!!! and ahh omg thank you so much, you have no idea how much that means so much to me, I’m smiling so much! after a lonnnng wait - here you go, and enjoy!

Choi Minki/Ren College!AU

so Minki is majoring in musical theatre

and the first time you saw him was in a full scale production

where he was the main lead

and literally oozed talent and confidence of course

like no matter who was on stage with him your eyes were drawn to him

so you looked at the programme to find his name

and you saw that it was a stage name “Ren”

None of your friends knew of him personally so you didn’t know anything about him

but the next day you went out for a coffee with your friends and as you went to place your order at the counter, a cheery voice greets you

“hey there, what can I get for you today, love?”

you made eye contact with the barista and it’s him???

he still looked gorgeous without all the stage make up and you were taken aback by how bright his eyes were and how genuine his smile was

“oh?? are you… Ren? from the musical last night!”

he smiled showing a perfect set of pearly white teeth

“you recognise me?”

“yeah, you were incredible!”

He laughed happily,“ my stage names Ren but my real name’s Choi Minki” he said pointing at his name badge

the person behind you coughed, getting tired of waiting and you flushed red in embarrassment for holding up the line

you quickly ordered a grapefruit tea

“oh, that’s one of my best friend’s favourite drinks, good choice!!” minki said as he punched the order into the machine

you blushed, “what’s your favourite then?”

you weren’t too sure why you asked him, but he’s super cute so why the hell not get to know him better?

“ooo i love a good yoghurt smoothie” (lmao this is legit from a 2015 interview)

“oh, well, I’ll make sure to get that next time then!”

Minki smiles again and you swear your heart is pounding so fast, he’s so dazzling

“take a seat, I’ll bring your drink out to you when it’s done”

You kept sneaking glances over at Minki while he worked his shift, and you thought you were being subtle

until he gave you a cheeky wink

making you choke on your tea

internally crying out of embarrassment

Minki just thinks you’re hella cute

After an hour or so, you and your friends have to head off to your next lecture

you’ve just about hit the corner of the street when you hear someone running

“Excuse me!”

You glance behind you and Minki is chasing after you, still wearing his barista uniform and apron

“Hm Minki? Are you alright? Did I forget something?” You give yourself a quick pat down to check if you might’ve have left someone at the table you were sitting at but it seemed like everything important was still on you so you were a bit confused

Minki scratches the back of his head bashfully, “Uh..well…I didn’t manage to catch your name, and it’s not fair that you know mine, but I still don’t know yours……..”

and your friends are like OoOooOOOO behind you watching this unfold

you fumble round in your bag for a marker and you reach over to write your name (and number ya sneaky) on the back of his hand

and from that moment, Minki is completely smitten

he gives you a call that night and asks if you want to swing by the cafe again tomorrow so he can make you the smoothie

little by little the two of you get closer and find out a lot about each other

and it’s obvious that you two have a mutual liking

you’re studying acting and performing arts so you actually happen to have one paper that’s the same as him

It’s funny because whenever you are paired up with him in practicals, the two of you get the best grades, but whenever it’s individual it’s not as great

he’s like a good luck charm

and it’s great because now you have a study buddy in the library

but Minki is lot more distracting than you realised

plus one time you swear he nearly poisoned you

you forgot your lunch so he whipped out his lunch box with leftover dinner he made the night before

and you were so flattered at first because it looked quite nice

like surely you can’t go wrong with pasta

for some reason your friend Aron is biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing as you take the first bite

and you just…freeze

you swear your whole body just went into a cold sweat

what. did. you. just. eat.

surely not pasta.

Minki is looking at you with hopeful eyes and you don’t know what to say to him

Aron just burst into giggles and pushes his lunch towards you instead

and Minki just sulks in the corner, mumbling about how his presentation skills are much better than Aron’s.

Minki is someone who readily shows his affection

so he’ll just stare at you with his puppy eyes while you try to go over your notes

or if you need help he’ll purposefully scoot his chair closer and lean his head over to look

and your heads are so close, theyre almost touching, and you can practically feel the very tips of his hair tickling your face

and then after finishing explaining something he’ll bounce right back to where he was sitting as if he hadn’t just been causing the blood in your system to start pounding in your ear

when you’re just hanging round town he’ll put his arm round you or give you back hug whilst nuzzling his face into your neck

and you don’t know how to react because you’ve never met a guy who’s as into skinship as he is

he’s like this really affectionate cat

soooooo much skinship

and every time he touches you even if it’s just a small action like nudging your shoulder, you swear you go bright red

Minki notices that you blush easily too and he 1000000% knows that it’s because of him

but neither of you have actually said whether you’re dating or not even tho you practically are

All your friends insist loudly that the two of you should have hooked up by now lol

but you just kinda wave them off

and you’ve been set up on different blind dates before, but it’s just not really your thing, you haven’t met anyone that you actually have feelings for

besides, Minki is the sweetest guy in your life right now and the two of you have a good thing going atm, you don’t need to be romantically involved to justify that

plus both of you are hella busy

exams are coming up

and that means prepping for performances

Minki has been rehearsing 6 days a week for the past couple of months

so you’ve barely seen him, except when you have your study ‘dates’ in the library which are nice, but it’s still studying….

you’re busy too, tbh you haven’t really caught up much with your friends either because everyone is just so overwhelmed with study + college life

but one day you two decided that it had been much too long since you’ve had a proper catch up

So you decide to go watch a movie together

turns out the movie you wanted to watch had sold out and your face had just naturally fallen into this pout

and Minki is just like kyaaaaa why is Y/N so cute?!?!

he reaches out to pinch your cheek and you turn to scowl at him

it’s been so long since you’ve seen him and you realise that you’ve really missed him and his silly skinship he does

your face has gone a bright pink and you can feel your ears burning too

and he’s just giggling away

and then he softens and holds his hand against your cheek lovingly

but tbh you’re just so annoyed that you can’t watch that movie so you don’t really notice Minki’s affection

and you’re more preoccupied trying to figure out what replacement movie the two of you should watch instead

Minki then excuses himself to go to the bathroom

but he’s actually just freaking out because he’s realised that he’s also missed you like crazy

he just wants to be able to see you all the time

and not have to make up excuses for seeing you either

so he takes a deep breath and steadies himself up against the sink and looks at himself in the mirror

you look at your phone and you swear he’s been in the toilet for a little while now

why

turns out, he’s practicing all the different way he could ask you to be his girlfriend

the poor guy is just trying to psych himself up, he’s not constipated itsok

“You got this Minki, you’re ChoigoRen, no one’s better or prettier than you…except Y/N, Y/N is so pretty….”

In the meantime you’re standing by trying to decide whether you should buy popcorn or icecream into the movie when someone calls out your name.

“Y/N?”

you spin round and accidentally knock into a guy who’s holding this big box of popcorn

and some of it spills out

and you’re like ohhhh shit, and just start apologising frantically

it’s this really buff dude with 4 of his mates

and they’re kinda like “yo Y/N chill it’s fine, calm down”

you’re confused because he knows who you are

and he laughs “Y/N, you really don’t recognise me? I haven’t really changed that much”

turns out he went to the same middle school as you but once he went to college started he starting obssessively gyming and became hella tank

when you realise it’s your classmate you burst out laughing

and you’re having a good chat with him when Minki comes out of the bathroom

Minki notices you chatting away with this other dude and he’s confused

he knows all your college friends now so he’s like hu dis boi

he’s not sure if he has the right to be jealous or not, and he has a lot of confidence in himself and he’d never make a fuss or embarrass you

But he sidles up to you and looks at the group of lads expectingly

and your friend is like “oh Y/N this must be your boyfriend!”

you blink a couple of times and you’re about to respond when Minki cuts in and chirps a happy “yup, I am!”

your eyes immediately dart over to his and you frown at him in confusion

but Minki just keeps talking “yeah, actually this is our first proper date!”

and your friend is like AWWW HOW CUTE I LOVE THIS, HAVE A HAPPY DATE AWWW BLESS, LET’S LEAVE THEM TO IT

and Minki is a bit taken aback, like this big buff dude is gushing over the two of you and how cute you guys are yas break those dumb gender stereotypes friend

after they leave you’re still looking at him expectantly, and Minki just shrugs

“so…we’re dating?”

“only if you’re okay with that too”

he takes your hand, and links his fingers with yours pulling you into the movie theatre

and when you don’t pull your hand out of his grasp he smiles back at you

“how about this, you don’t have to answer me now, but I’ll give you from now until the movie is over to decide”

Minki shifts his weight from one foot to another, a trait you noticed he does when he’s nervous

a bit of his hair has fallen into forward over his eyes and you reach up to gently brush it away from his forehead

the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by Minki and he catches your hand as you’re retracting it and places it on his own cheek leaning into your touch.

“what if I don’t need that much time to decide?” your voice is a soft whisper

you took a small step closer to him, hand still resting gently on his cheek

he closed the gap between the two of you

and you gasp in surprise because his lips on yours are so soft

and sweet

and just cries why did it take the two of you so bloody long to get together

and when you pull apart, your smile mirrors his and he gives you this cute little kiss on your nose before gently resting his forehead on yours

“so this is our day 1?”

wow so as i was writing this i realised that i have a realllly large soft spot for Minki, bless him he’s a sweetheart

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astraea-writes · 7 years ago

Text

To Kiss A Girl- Davey Jacobs x Reader

alright so i guess im just gonna post davey fics until ben fankhauser falls in love with me??

requested by anon, so sorry for the delay! these go alongside my college headcanons from the other day, and i most definitely am going to rewrite this in the future with better structuring, but i wanted to get this out asap!

please listen to "to Kiss a Girl" when you read bc itll make so much more sense i promise

as always my inbox is always open

warnings: drinking

Hey! Y/N! Get a pape from your favorite newsie?" Jack yelled from across the quad. You laughed and made your way towards him. winter break was over, and today was the first day of the last quarter of the school year. Your last class of the day had just gotten out, and you were already exhausted from the amount of work you knew you'd have before this year was out. "Katherine's still got you passing out the school newspaper for her?" you asked, taking the paper and sliding it into your bag. "My girl just made rising editor in chief for next year" he beamed, and you smiled at how in love with her he was. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts, however, when you felt an arm wrap around your waist and turned to see Davey. "Hey, study night at the library?" He asked and when you nodded he dropped his arm and blushed at the instinctive contact. It was a common occurrence for the two of you to spend countless days studying and talking while the rest of your gang was out getting into trouble somehow. Jack chuckled at the awkward exchange. "Well well, if it ain't the other half of the loveboids" he greeted Davey, winking and slugging him on the shoulder. You rolled your eyes. "Shouldn't you be off fawning over Katherine like a lost puppy somewhere?" you teased and Jack playfully shoved you. " ah come on, you two knows there's something goin on here! You twos have even kissed!" He accused, waving his hands around wildly, gesturing to the small space between you and your best friend. You couldn't help but look down and smile at the memory, but you quickly recovered as Davey went still. "It was New Years, Jack. And I seem to recall you getting us tipsy on champagne, and then pushing me into him as the ball dropped" "I elped a little, but you twos were the one who did it!" He protested. You smiled and shook your head. "I know there's no point to arguing with ya, even if I'm right, so I'm just gonna leave now" you laughed. Jack smirked at the glare Davey gave him and you pulled him away before he could get too annoyed. "Sorry i wasn't much help back there" he muttered once you were out of Jacks hearing range. "Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself" you laughed. The rest of the walk was full of conversation about how Davey finally got to see Les during winter break and your crazy family stories. The two of you instinctively made your way to your table, in the back of the library by the law books no one ever needed so no one would bother you. You hadn't even bothered to stop at your dorm and grab any textbooks, you knew that you and Davey would probably wind up talking so much that nothing would get done-it was rare for the two of you to have been apart for this long. "Why'd you want to study?" you asked as Davey pulled out his laptop. "Have you even been assigned anything yet?" "No" he admitted, "Im just stressed. You know how I took that music composition class last semester?" You nodded and he continued "well our final project was to write a full length song but our class was struggling so much that the professor gave us winter break to finish it. But now, I have to perform it in a week and it's no where near good enough" You laughed as he ranted. "Davey, you're an amazing writer. I'm sure it's amazing, even though you refuse to let me hear it." He shook his head. "There's no way you're hearing it" "at least play it for me then?" You countered, and knowing that you wouldn't stop until he did, Davey slowly got up and made his way towards the piano in the lounge of the library, where students were free to relax and play anything they wanted. He sat down and began to play the most beautiful melody you had ever heard. You stared at him as his hands moved all over the keys and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You thought back to what Jack had said, about New Years Eve.

You and the gang of boys Davey and Jack had gathered had decided to go home for Hanukkah and Christmas, but come back to school for a New Years Party to end all New Years Parties (according to Spot Conlon). You had showed up to a pretty little club to find the boys drinking like no tomorrow, save for Davey who was in the corner waiting for you. As the two of you spent the night in conversation, Jack got more antsy as the night went on, telling the both of you that tonight was the time to finally get together about every twenty minutes, and the two of you had rolled your eyes and laughed his drunken shpeals off each time. Two minutes to midnight he had pressed glasses of champagne and probably something else into your and Daveys hands, and pushed the two of you together. You fell into Davey and his hand went to the small of your back as your hand grabbed his shoulder for support. Taking a sip of champagne and setting the glasses down, the two of you maintained eye contact, still pressed against each other. You couldn't speak, mesmerized by his eyes, by the way he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room. As Jack screamed the countdown, you decided to screw it and quickly pressed your lips to his. It was only for a moment, a single kiss, but he kissed you back and you felt every firework and sparkle that had been promised to you by corny love songs and cliche movies. The Newsies yelled and cheered once the two of you pulled away, staring at each other like you were meeting for the first time. Once the boys finally dispersed to go and taunt Jack and Katherine, who were very publicly making out in the middle of the dance floor, you turned to go with them, but Davey grabbed your hand and pulled you back to his chest. Before you could ask what was wrong, he cupped his hands around your face and kissed you. The two of you stayed like that, kissing painfully slowly, lips moving together in perfect sync, knowing that once you pulled away this would all end. After several minutes you had to break the kiss, and when your eyes met there was absolutely no denying that you were in love with this boy and always had been.

But you hadn't done anything about it. Davey walked you to your dorm, made sure you got to your bed safely, and left. When you woke up the next morning, there was a glass of water and an aspirin on your desk and a text message on your phone from Davey, apologizing for leaving so soon but he had to catch his train back home, and apologizing for last night. You had stayed in bed, silent tears moving down your face, because the boy you loved was sorry he kissed you and there was nothing you could do about it. "Y/N?" Daveys voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and quickly wiped away a tear you hadn't realized was forming. "Sorry," you laughed softly. "Just, God, Davey, that was beautiful. So so beautiful" He blushed and thanked you, quickly walking back to your table. "So when do I get to hear the actual lyrics??" you asked slyly. "Never." He responded flatly. "Come onnnn Davey, Im your best friend" you pouted, making him laugh. "Its just, personal, okay?" he said defensively. "Mm hmm, okay. But there's nothing that you can't write amazingly, and nothing you can't sing because I have 100% heard you singing in the shower so there's no denying that Davey Jacobs. And if you don't want me to listen to it, then fine, but nothing is going to change the fact that it's probably already my most favorite song ever" you told him sincerely, and he blushed, still not used to your compliments after years of friendship.

But it really wasn't fine. Because you couldn't let it go.

"Okay just tell me what it's about" you begged, lying upside down on Jacks bed as Davey cleaned up his side of the room. "Nope" he smirked and you groaned in agony. "Davey come on there's nothing I don't know about you" "You don't know what I'm gonna sing" he laughed and you threw one of Jacks pillows at his head. "Davey come on I'm literally dying. Is it about me? About Jack? About your hidden love for girly Starbucks drinks?" you jokingly guessed, standing in line at your local Starbucks. Davey recited both of your orders and then turned back to glare at you. "Y/N I'm seriously not telling you. It's personal and stupid and once I get my grade I'm never speaking of it again, okay?" he sighed as the two of you walked to class. "That makes me incredibly sad because I know everything you do is ridiculously amazing" you smiled, and he only rolled his eyes.

After a week of begging and unsuccessfully bribing, Davey's performance day was here and you still weren't even told where it would be. That was, until Jack came pounding on your door. "Y/N! So a friend of Katherine's is in Daveys music class and a friend of hers is the stage manager for the theatre they're using and if we go right now then we can get there in time to sneak in!" he yelled, and you had barely grabbed your coat before you were out the door. Jack was the only person as impatient as you, and Daveys secrecy had been driving him crazy as well. The two of you made it to the school theater in record time, sneaking in to the back entrance that had been left open for you. You two made your way to the back of the house, and ducked into the last row of seats as Daveys name was called. He shyly walked up to the piano, and began to play the melody you had heard just the week before. His face slowly relaxed as he calmed his nerves, and hesitantly he began to sing. You were immediately stunned. His voice was pure and perfect, echoing off the walls. And then he got to the chorus. You felt Jacks eyes land on you, but you couldn't look away from Davey. Was he really singing about you? Could he really have felt the same way? You barely blinked, smiling wider than you thought possible, tears pooling in your eyes. And right before the final chorus, Davey turned to look out into the crowd and your eyes met. With a mix of both fear and confidence that only he could have, he belted out the final notes, and as he finished the song, you ran up to the bottom of the stage as the professors and the rest of the class burst into applause, Jack cheering the loudest. Davey made his way down to you from the stage, and all of his embarrassment melted away as he saw the look in your eyes. He ran up to you and you didn't hesitate to grab his collar and pull him into you, kissing him like you had been waiting to for so long. His hands wrapped around your waist and he deepened the kiss, the applause growing even stronger. There was no countdown or champagne, but you knew this was a new beginning for the both of you.

#davey jacobs #davey jacobs x reader #davey x reader #newsies fic #newsies x reader #newsies fanfiction #newsies #ben fankhauser #jeremy jordan #jack kelly #katherine plumber

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