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hbyrde36 · 9 months ago

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Chapter 1: Under My Skin

Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Art (coming soon!) by @glitterfang

Beta'd by @penny00dreadful

Rating: E | WC: 5937 | Chapters: 1/2 | AO3 Link

Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, and a new client at that.

It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, exactly. There were no dates on his calendar, and going out to random bars and clubs on the weekends to look for quick hookups had begun losing its appeal lately.

But it’d been a long week, and he’d much rather have been getting ready to plop down on the couch with Chrissy to split a bottle of red wine while they watched Drag Race, than preparing to do a cover up for some idiot who’d gotten his girlfriend’s name tattooed on his body, only to fall victim to—The Curse.

Ask any tattoo artist and they’d be the first to tell you, there was no surer way to guarantee a breakup than to ink your significant other’s name on your body forever.

And yeah, it probably wasn’t fair to judge the guy before they’d even met, but there were only two kinds of people who tended to make that particular mistake—dumbasses, and hopeless romantics. He just kind of assumed his client fell into the former camp, rather than the latter.

Eddie had just started wiping down the front desk counter, which doubled as a display case for the various accessories and body jewelry they carried trying to kill some time between his last appointment and cover-up-guy, when Chrissy came walking out of her studio.

It was one of the biggest perks, in his opinion, of owning their own shop. Not only did each of them finally have their own work spaces—no more having to listen to other client conversations or fighting over a single bluetooth speaker—but being their own bosses also meant they could decorate and customize their own studios to their heart’s content.

The main area of the shop was a bit of a catch-all, much like his and Chrissy’s shared apartment. It featured neutral walls lined with a mishmash of all the things they loved, sprinkled in and amongst odd antiques, knick-knacks, and various pieces of unique artwork. There was everything from vintage vinyl record jackets tacked to the wall, to faux taxidermy mountings of creatures that had never existed in real life.

Entering Chrissy’s studio was a little like stepping inside a Lisa Frank notebook cover. All vibrant rainbow colors and aggressive animal print. Eddie had painted the walls himself, color matching the exact shade of fuchsia as the adjustable chair he’d custom ordered just for her. He was no interior designer so she’d taken it from there, and though the finished product was a little too bright for his tastes, even he had to admit it was still pretty fucking metal.

Eddie’s space was the polar opposite, featuring dark stained wood furniture and a style of decor that could be best described as a slightly more grown up version of a teenage boy's bedroom. Band and movie posters lined three of the walls, but instead of being held up with thumbtacks, or scotch tape, they were neatly laid in matching frames with thick black edging. The remaining wall held a gallery of photos. Him and Wayne from their last fishing trip, one from when he and Chrissy had received the keys to the parlor unlocking its doors on the first day that it was theirs, and an old snap of him and his high school bandmates standing in front of their homemade banner, among many others.

It wasn’t until Chrissy came up to lean on the counter with her jacket zipped-up and her purse slung over her shoulder that he realized something was up.

“Don’t forget to lock up when you're done.” She said, tapping her nails on the glass. “Oh! And can you stop and pick up some oat milk on your way home? We’re out.”

“Wait, where are you going? Didn’t you have a client booked tonight too? I thought we were in this together, Cunningham!”

“Not anymore.” She said cheerfully, leaning across the counter to rest her elbows on the glass, leaving an ink smudge on the exact spot he had just finished cleaning. He swatted at her with the damp rag and she jerked back with a giggling-gasp.

“Mine had to cancel.”

Eddie groaned. “I hate when clients do that.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. It’s like a free night off I wasn’t expecting.”

“Not exactly free, since canceling means not paying in full.” He grumbled.

“Oh lighten up! It’s not like we’re that behind on bills or anything.”

“Tell that to the electric company.” He said, mostly to tease her, though he couldn't help glancing up at the excessively large and kitschy skull chandelier he’d found on Amazon that definitely didn’t use high efficiency light bulbs, but he had sworn at the time was worth it for The Aesthetic™.

“Why are you always so grumpy?” Chrissy asked, jutting her lip out in a dramatic reenactment of him pouting.

Not that he was one to pout.

“I’m not!”

“Look at your face, you're grumpy right now!”

“That's because y- you’re…” He cut himself off with a sigh.

He couldn't begrudge her the time off, he’d be hightailing it out of there just the same if it had been him.

“Just get out of here.” He said, conceding defeat.

She beamed. “Okay! See you later!” She said, all but sprinting to the front doors. “Don’t forget about the milk!”

“Wait, why can’t you–” He started to ask, but she was on the other side of the door before he could get the words out.

“Oh forget it.” He mumbled, stashing the glass cleaner away where it belonged.

About fifteen minutes later the bell above the door chimed, signaling the arrival of what Eddie assumed to be his last customer of the day.

Except, it couldn't be.

It couldn’t possibly be because the Adonis that had just entered his humble tattoo parlor was, quite frankly, bonkers hot. There was no way, absolutely no way someone had this guy—this guy—so obsessed with them that he went and got their name tattooed on his perfect body and then just… let him go.

It was unthinkable.

“Hi, you must be Eddie. I recognized you from your Instagram.” Pretty-boy said with a shy smile.

“Steve?” Eddie asked, blinking hard, completely unable to mask the tone of disbelief.

The other man nodded.

Shit, okay.

So this was him—Steeeeeeve Harrington. This was the guy.

Maybe there was something wrong with him? There had to be a catch, a series of very red flags or something because all Eddie could think about at that moment was, if he ever got a chance with Steve? He’d never let him go.

Get it together, Munson!

The bright side, of a sort, was that Steve smacked of straight guy energy, so it was unlikely Eddie would even be in the running for a chance anyway. Better to just put it out of his mind.

Though, he supposed he could still… look. It's not like looking ever hurt anyone. Not that he made a habit out of ogling the clientele. Of course, none of his other customers had ever come in wearing vintage Levi’s that fit their ass like a glove, not to mention the way they fit around his–

“Eddie?”

Fuck.

Had Steve been talking this whole time while he’d been off daydreaming about what those sinfully tight jeans might look like on his bedroom floor?

“Yeah.” A soft chuckle fell from Eddie’s lips as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “S- sorry, man. Spaced out for a second there I guess.”

What the fuck was wrong with him today?!

“It’s okay. I was just asking if the plan was still the same? In your last email you suggested we should do this over two appointments.”

Work question… yes, good. Focus on the job!

“Right. With what we talked about I'd like to concentrate on just the outline today, maybe a little shading, and then in six weeks or so once that’s healed have you come back for the color. If you’re still alright with that?”

Eddie could do the whole thing in one shot if Steve really wanted to sit that long, but with something like this he didn't want to feel rushed. He’d done a few concept sketches after emailing back and forth with Steve about what he was looking for, and honestly what they’d come up with wasn’t really his usual style. He could do it, he was more than capable, but he had to wonder why Steve had picked him, out of all the tattoo artists in the city. He’d seen Eddie’s Instagram, so he knew the kind of work he usually churned out. Hell, Chrissy would have been the more obvious choice for this.

Of course, now that he’d gotten an eye-full of Steve in person he was glad he hadn’t tried to pawn him off on her. He was also really hoping Steve would agree to the split sessions, it would give them an excuse to see each other again.

“Whatever you think is best. I’m putting myself in your expert hands.” Steve said, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.

That was… interesting.

Maybe Eddie had been a little bit hasty in his initial straight assessment?

Steve’s deposit had been paid, and they’d already gone over pricing through email so there wasn't much to discuss as far as that was concerned, After signing some paperwork and getting the other man’s ID scanned into the system there was nothing left to do but walk Steve back to his studio and get this show on the road.

“You can go ahead and take your shirt off, get comfortable. I’ll show you the stencil I drew up and if it looks good we can put it on and get started.” Eddie said, gesturing to his client chair.

He leaned over his desk while Steve got situated, taking a second to gather his thoughts, as well as add a small finishing touch to the transfer sketch before turning back to his client. The sight made his throat go dry.

It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.

At Eddie's direction, in preparation, Steve had shaved his chest. More specifically, Steve had shaved half of his chest. The side Eddie would be working on, that sported the existing tattoo, was bare—smooth as a baby's bottom. The other side was…

It was…

Jesus Christ.

It should have looked ridiculous actually, and it was a little funny, but honestly all Eddie could think when he stared at the untrimmed side of Steve's upper body, resplendent with the most glorious chest hair, was that it was a travesty, a crime even, that he’d never get to see the whole thing grown out in its full glory.

The lack of a shirt also highlighted the fact that Steve was incredibly toned, much more so than he had initially appeared even through his slim fit henley.

Eddie shook his head, praying it had suddenly become an etch-a-sketch and he could clear out his thoughts by sheer force.

He truly didn’t know what had gotten into him. It was hardly the first time he’d worked on someone he found attractive, but usually he didn’t notice it quite this much. When you pierce and tattoo for a living you get used to seeing a lot of bare skin, including occasionally, areas typically reserved for romantic partners. Professional hazzard, but it’d never been a problem for him before. He was an artist, this was his craft, and bare skin was just another kind of canvas.

He blamed it on his current dry spell, self-imposed as it was.

It was easy enough to go out on a Saturday and find a guy or girl to bring home for the night, but he was so tired of one night stands and meaningless hookups in bar bathrooms. Where was the substance? He wanted companionship. He wanted a partner. He wanted to fall in love.

Eddie cleared his throat and crossed the room to hand Steve the stencil, busying himself with raising up his stool to the proper height and pulling on a pair of thick black neoprene gloves while the other man looked it over.

“It’s great.” Steve said.

“Good.” Eddie quietly let out the breath he’d been holding. “Alright I'm gonna put this on and have you take a look at the placement, make sure you like it, then we can get started.”

Eddie squeezed out a dime sized amount of the stencil gel and rubbed it into Steve’s chest, laying the transfer paper down in just the right way so that the final design would sufficiently cover what was underneath, assuming he had scaled it right.

It was perfect. After a quick check in the mirror, Steve agreed.

While they waited for it to dry Eddie double checked his set up to make sure he had everything he would need for the session.

“Ready to get started?”

Steve took a deep breath and blew it out slow. “Yeah. I am.”

His reply felt heavy, like maybe he was talking about more than just the tattoo. Had they known each other at all Eddie might have asked about it, but they were basically strangers, and it wasn’t his job to pry.

With steady hands he set the needle to Steve's skin and got to work.

They weren’t at it for very long before Steve started to squirm.

Eddie ignored it at first, he could tell the guy was trying hard to keep himself still, and he wasn’t really moving enough to actually disturb the work. Sometimes it took a bit for clients to sink into the feeling, to let the pain fade to the background enough that they could relax a little bit or at least be able to keep their body from trying to react to the odd sensation. But then he noticed the light sheen of sweat spreading over Steve's upper body, and would have sworn he could somehow feel the other man’s pulse quickening beneath the hand he had pressed so closely to his heart, even over the vibration of the tattoo machine.

He should probably stop and do a check-in, suggest a breather or some water. It wouldn't be the first time a seemingly tough muscle-bound guy had struggled to sit for him.

He opened his mouth to say something about it, lifting the needle as he took a quick glance up at Steve’s face, but what he saw had the words dying on his tongue. Steve was staring back at him, face flushed, breath coming quick and shallow, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

That… did not look like a face that was in pain—or rather—it didn’t seem like the pain was unpleasant.

Fuck.

Eddie flicked his gaze quickly back down to his hands, the needle, fighting the urge to look lower.

He shouldn’t.

It wasn’t right.

The professional thing to do would be to ignore the reaction completely.

But Eddie was a weak, weak man.

He looked.

Just a quick peek, less than a half-second that his eyes wandered south, and immediately he regretted it.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuck.

Suspicion confirmed. Steve was hard. He was also huge if the unmistakable outline was any indication. Eddie bit his tongue, fighting back the groan that was trying to fight its way out of his throat.

Those jeans should be fucking illegal. The only thing worse would’ve been a pair of gray sweatpants. Now he was the one sweating.

“Sorry.” Steve said, voice strained.

Eddie stilled, lifting the machine away from Steve's chest again before looking back up to meet his eyes.

“For?”

Steve raised an eyebrow, challenging him to continue to pretend he hadn’t noticed.

“It’s fine, really. It… happens. Everyone reacts differently to the pain.”

Steve let out a high pitched and breathy huff of laughter. “It wasn’t like this last time.” He muttered under his breath.

Eddie tried hard not to read into that, not to think about what the difference might be.

“Do you need to take a break?”

“No,” Steve swallowed hard. Eddie watched, momentarily mesmerized by the bob of his adams apple. “But, uh, can we talk or something? To distract me?”

He sounded so vulnerable, and a little embarrassed. It was enough to snap Eddie out of his daze. The last thing he wanted was for the person in his chair to feel uncomfortable. Talking he could do, it was one of his best things.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” Eddie asked casually, getting right back into his line work.

“You.” Steve answered quickly, pausing to clear his throat. “Um, I mean, did you always want to be a tattoo artist?”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. I used to spend all my time, including the time I should have been using to study or do my homework, drawing, sketching, painting, you name it, and it just kinda developed from there. I gave myself my first stick-and-poke when I was about 15. My uncle was pissed. Not about the tattoo exactly, but he was worried I wasn't being safe enough about it—sanitary and stuff. Of course, he wasn’t wrong. So, Wayne took me out the next day and we got a book about it, and he bought me all the right materials. Even let me practice on him when I graduated to a tattoo machine.”

“He sounds like a really great guy.” Steve said.

“Yeah, he is.” Eddie could feel the wistful smile spreading across his own face. “Not just anyone could step in and raise someone else’s kid like that. Just wish I got to see him more. I go back to Indiana to visit him a few times a year, but it’s not the same.”

“I don’t see my family very much either, but we’re not close.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My parents, they’re–” Steve trailed off as if looking for the right words. “Well, let's just say they're not as supportive of my—life choices, as your uncle was for you.”

“Oh?”

“I, uh, came out to them a while ago… as bisexual? They didn’t take it very well. Said I was just going through some kind of phase or crisis or something. Sorry, this is probably, like, way too much information to share with someone I just met.”

“No. it’s—Okay, maybe to a normal person it might be but I've never been what anyone would describe as normal. And… I get it.”

Eddie didn’t really have to say it. The outside of the shop sported every kind of pride flag you could think of. There were pictures right behind him on the wall of him and Chrissy at their first ever pride parade right here in the city. Not to mention his social media profiles, where he had a bi flag right next to his age and pronouns in his bio. Steve knew, was the point, and Eddie was glad he’d felt safe enough in his shop—with him, to talk about it.

“Wayne was really good about that too.” Eddie said softly. “I’m sorry your parents weren’t.”

A comfortable silence settled between them after that and Eddie left it unbroken, better to let Steve decide which direction their conversation went from here—if he wanted to continue it. He seemed more relaxed already and his… predicament had mercifully gone down as they spoke.

“When did you—how did you… know?“ Steve asked after a while.

“Junior High.” Eddie answered quickly, smiling to himself as he indulged in a little nostalgia. “Kinda the opposite of the usual story, I guess. I thought I was gay. I had such a crush on this boy a grade above me. Nobody that would have given me the time of day mind you, I was a band geek and a huge nerd, but he was very nice to look at. Then he changed schools. I was heartbroken of course, which is my excuse for why I let this girl drag me under the bleachers during gym class. One second we were just sitting there talking and the next she was in my lap with her tongue down my throat.”

“And?”

Eddie shrugged. “And I didn’t hate it. I reacted exactly the way a young boy reacts when a pretty girl is kissing them and grinding in their lap. Honestly, it blew my mind a little bit—had to reevaluate my whole world view.”

Steve hummed in understanding.

“It’s still mostly men for me but–” Eddie sighed wistfully, “Women.”

“Women,” Steve agreed reverently, letting out a soft laugh. “It was a bit more recent for me. A friend took me to a gay bar—dragged me there actually.” He started to shake his head, stopping instantly when he seemed to realize he might be moving too much.

Good boy.

Eddie smirked. “I bet you were popular.”

“You could say that. I’ve never had so many people offer to buy me a drink in my life.” As Steve went on he began to rub his hand along the chair's armrest, mindlessly drawing patterns into its surface with his long fingers.

“It’s funny, at 25 I didn’t think I had anything new to discover about myself, at least nothing big, but after that rather eye-opening evening I had to, like you said, reevaluate some things about myself. It wasn’t a huge shock I guess. Like, I had found guys attractive before—friends, celebrities, whatever, I just thought everyone felt that way.”

“Ah, the bisexual’s fallacy. Sure I think about other dudes sometimes, but only the normal amount.” Eddie said.

“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t!”

Eddie stopped tattooing as they held each other's gaze, both managing to keep a straight face for only a second before simultaneously dissolving into hysterical laughter.

Figuring it was as good a time as any to take a short break, Eddie stripped his gloves off and slid across the room on his stool to a small mini-fridge he kept tucked under his desk, stocked with water and juice—something he always kept on hand in case a client got lightheaded.

As they sipped their drinks and both took an opportunity to stretch, Eddie decided it was finally time to put his foot in his mouth.

“So, how are you enjoying things on this side of the field? Someone as pretty as you, I'm sure you get asked out a lot.”

“No, uh, I don't know. I- I haven't really been out on any dates with guys.” Steve stuttered out nervously. “Kissed a few, but that’s all.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Eddie said. He meant it too. Not only was Steve something special to look at, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. He deserved to be taken out and shown a good time. Maybe he was shy.

Steve laid back in the chair, puffing his chest out as he got back into position while Eddie slipped a new pair of gloves on.

“Why, you offering to show me the ropes?” Steve asked, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

Eddie’s mouth went dry.

Okay, not that shy then. Surely it was just fun friendly flirting though, right?

“Don’t tempt me.” Eddie teased back. Two could play this game.

“Why not?”

“First rule of the trade, or at least the Munson doctrine, no dating the clients.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Steve said, and without even looking up Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, a hint of–challenge accepted–in his tone.

The next hour flew by as they continued to chat, both remarking on the differences between small town life and city life, as well as lamenting how expensive it was, and how neither of them thought they’d still be living with roommates in their mid-to-late-20's.

For a while Eddie waxed poetic about Chrissy, who of course filled the roles of bestie, roommate, and business partner, which tickled Steve to no end.

He told the other man how they’d met, apprenticing at the same tattoo parlor at around the same time. and wound up bonding for life almost immediately. They were total opposites on the surface but deep down they were remarkably similar. Eddie didn’t go into too much detail, as it wasn’t his story to tell, but alluded to the fact that he and Chrissy had the shared experience of being born to shitty parents, only to be raised by another family member. A grandmother in Chrissy’s case.

It meant that they understood each other more than most, and yeah, being around one another 24/7 also meant they got on each other’s nerves a lot, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

At some point Steve’s cell phone began to ring from where it was shoved in his front pocket. He apologized profusely for forgetting to switch it on silent before they’d gotten started, but Eddie assured him it wasn’t a big deal.

Or—it wouldn't have been, except either it was some kind of emergency, or someone who was intent on reaching Steve immediately, and continued trying to call three more times.

“We can take a break if you need to get that.” Eddie offered.

Truth be told he could use a little breather himself. All this time of being essentially face down in Steve’s incredible chest was getting to him a little bit, not to mention the way his forearm lightly brushed along Steve's stomach whenever he braced himself across the man’s body. The feel of their bare skin touching was almost too much, and more than once Eddie felt himself breaking out in goosebumps.

“Yeah, I think we’d better. It’s gotta be my little brother and knowing him he won’t stop calling until I answer.”

Eddie busied himself removing his gloves and taking a long drink from his water bottle while he flipped through a few drawings on his side table, trying to look like he wasn’t hearing every word of Steve's side of the conversation.

“Hey buddy, I'm a little busy right now. What’s going on?”

Steve paused, listening attentively to the voice on the other end of the call.

“Dustin, he’s not abandoning you. Just because he wants–”

Sighing as he was abruptly interrupted, Steve somehow made the huff of breath sound both annoyed and fond.

“Well, did he actually say he didn’t want to play D&D with you anymore?”

Eddie’s head snapped up of its own volition. Did the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen in real life just say D&D?

“That’s what I thought.” Steve said with a satisfied tone. “It's gonna be fine. I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Tell your mom I said hi.”

“Sorry about that.” Steve said, addressing Eddie this time, rolling his eyes as he ended the call. “Teenagers.”

“Pretty cool little brother if he plays Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned. “Not you too! He and all his little friends are obsessed with it.”

“I used to play all the time with a group back in high school. We still try and get together for a one-shot at the holidays when we’re all back home visiting.” Eddie paused, concentrating for a second on wiggling his fingers into yet another set of gloves. There wasn’t really all that much left to do, another 20 minutes or so and he’d be done with the outline. “Was he alright, your brother?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Steve replied as he sat back, getting into position. “We, uh, technically we’re not actually related—I'm an only child. But I used to babysit Dustin when he was younger and when he grew up I just sorta stuck around. It’s only him and his mom at home and I guess I thought… I dunno, like, maybe I could help? I drove him to his first school dance, taught him how to do his hair, shave, that kinda stuff.”

“That's… that’s really sweet, man. I’m sure he appreciates having you around.”

With every new thing he learned about Steve, Eddie felt like he was in deeper and deeper trouble. He’d been having a tough enough time keeping it together with simply lusting over a hot body, but now Steve was turning out to be this sweetheart of a guy and, client or not, Eddie thought he might just be worth breaking all the rules for.

“He’s worried his friend group is falling apart because one of the guys is going out for the basketball team. He’s afraid if Lucas gets in good with the jocks he won’t want to play with them anymore.”

“As a former outcast and enemy to jocks everywhere, I can understand his concern.”

“Are you saying we wouldn't have been friends in high school then?”

“Steve, Stevie, please. Please don’t tell me…” Eddie trailed off, stopping what he was doing and gasping for dramatic effect–hand over his heart. “Oh god, you were captain of the sportsball team weren’t you?”

Steve giggled, his beautiful eyes sparkling with it. “Basketball, to be exact. I was the co-captain of the swim team too.”

“I knew it would never work between us.” Eddie tutted, shaking his head as he got back to tattooing. “Are you reformed, at least?”

“Once a jock, always a jock, I'm afraid. I’m a personal trainer now.”

It explained a lot, and the perks—pun absolutely intended—of Steve's day job were undeniable, but as hot as the mental image of him pumping iron was, the idea of Steve palling around with toxic gym bros all day was almost enough to have Eddie second guessing everything.

“Don’t worry though, I don’t like gym bros any more than the next guy.” Steve said conspiratorially. “My clients are mainly older women looking to maintain their strength and mobility as they age.”

Aaaaand Eddie stood corrected. “Lucky ladies.”

Jesus Christ, could this guy get any more perfect?

Steve shifted in his seat, starting to get antsy after keeeping still for so long.

“Just a few more minutes, almost done.” Eddie murmured, tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on a spot near the curve of Steve’s collarbone.

“Do you do a lot of these? Cover-ups I mean?” Steve asked. “My roommate is the one who actually suggested it. For some reason I just never thought about it as an option.”

“I don’t know if i’d say a lot, but a fair few, yeah.”

“You, um. You can ask about it… If you want.”

Eddie glanced up in surprise. He would never have brought it up without being prompted, it just didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t deny he was curious, and if Steve was okay with it then–

“Okay, I'll bite. Who’s Nancy?”

“My fiance’. Well, ex-fiance’ now. We broke things off a little over a year ago.”

“That’s rough, I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, It’s… I should have probably seen it coming? We were high school sweethearts—got together before we really knew who we were on our own. But I was dumb and in love. I got the tattoo and proposed. I was so happy that day, but looking back it was so obvious that she’d only said yes out of pity or guilt, not because she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.”

The part of Eddie that believed in true love—and all that cheesy shit—was sad that a couple who had been together for so long, who had essentially grown up together, hadn’t been able to make it work. Selfishly though, a small piece of him was happy to learn that they’d been broken up for quite some time, lessening the chance that, if he did somehow gather the courage to ask Steve out when the tattoo was done, he wouldn’t be on the rebound.

“It was tough. I felt like a failure for a long time, like I was having to start my whole life over from scratch when I'd thought for so long that she was it for me, but it's actually been… good. We weren’t right for eachother, I can see that now. As much as it hurt, I'm grateful she had the courage to break things off when she did.”

“I’m glad you’ve been able to come to peace with it.”

“Getting this tattoo feels like the final step into letting that life go, y’know?”

Eddie nodded. Steve’s demeanor before they got started made so much sense now.

“Is there some significance to the design?” He asked, making his final line and setting the machine down. He wiped at the excess ink on Steve's skin, raising his head just in time to see the way the other man’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, Robin. She–she’s everything to me. Like a best friend, but more somehow. I don’t think I really knew what unconditional love was before her. She’s like, another piece of my soul or something. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

Eddie froze.

The tattoo design was a bird—a robin.

A robin.

For, Robin.

How could he have been so stupid!

Of course, Steve was getting one girl’s name covered up with something to represent the new one.

Jesus Christ, they were both idiots.

Eddie for getting his hopes up, and Steve for making the same mistake—twice. At least this time it was a symbol and not a name, so if he and the latest potential Mrs. Harrington didn’t work out, at least he wouldn't have to worry about covering it up.

“Everything alright?” Steve asked.

The question spurred Eddie back into action. He spread the foam soap over Steve’s chest continuing to clean the finished tattoo while his heart crawled up into his throat.

“Yup. All good.” Eddie forced the words out.

That's what Steve must have meant about not going on dates, he already had someone at home. Why hadn’t he just said that before though? And why had he flirted with him?

Maybe he’d felt funny at first about admitting to being with a woman after all the talk about being bisexual. Not that Eddie would have judged, but he knew a lot of people did—bi erasure was so real. He understood that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less that Steve had, inadvertently or not, lead him on.

Eddie gently patted the newly cleaned skin dry with a paper towel and carefully applied a square of Saniderm over the area, smoothing it out as he gave Steve his usual spiel, albeit a little robotically, about how to care for the tattoo over the coming days and weeks.

He quickly turned his back when he was done, telling Steve he could get dressed, and feeling stupid as all hell for being this upset about a guy he barely knew. He’d felt something though, potential—a spark. It was more than he’d felt for anyone in a long time.

Steve got quiet, looking a little confused with the sudden 180° Eddie’s mood had pulled. He felt a little bad about that as he brought the guy back out to the counter, but it wasn’t as though he’d suddenly become unprofessional. He was just… no longer being overly friendly.

After confirming the date for his second session, Steve paid his balance and Eddie walked him to the door.

“Have a good night, Steve. Call the shop if you have any concerns or questions about aftercare.”

Steve bit his lip. “Oh, I… okay. See you in six weeks then.”

Eddie forced a smile, waiting until Steve was out of sight around the corner to lock up, and slunk back to his studio to disinfect it so he could finally go home and sulk.

Chapter 2

All my thanks to @penny00dreadful for all of your wonderful beta work, and cheerleading, and support, and just generally being THE BEST 💜

#steddie fanfic #stranger things reverse big bang #steddie #tattoo artist eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #tattoo artist chrissy cunningham

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frozen-waters · 7 months ago

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modern rdr hcs

• when Sean gets up to go to the bathroom at night he doesn't turn on any lights and just stumbles around in the darkness

• Karen is a nail tech

�� I know I said in my johnigail hcs that John would work at an auto shop but I’m starting to like the idea of him being a carpenter yk

• at cookouts Pearson is on grill duty and Sadie walks past him and critiques how he’s grilling the hamburger meat

• Mary-Beth is an Animal Crossing fan and plays with Tilly and Kieran

• Javier does that five second pause anytime he starts recording something

• Miss Grimshaw was Tilly's foster mom

• Tilly did soccer throughout school and Arthur was the official chauffeur for getting her to and from practice

• Mary-Beth always sleeps with two blankets and one big comforter and a heating pad

• the scariest movie Hosea ever watched was Jaws

• Mary-Beth and Karen buy vapes for each other and constantly switch with one another

• the bluetooth in Karens car can never work properly

• Mary-Beth fucking loves Chappell Roan

• Sean collects Burger King crowns

• Arthur grills his hot dogs, Charles boils them, John microwaves them

• Micah is under house arrest a lot

• Uncle sells fireworks

• Molly has a drivers license but never drives

• Molly also dressed kinda like Heather Mason from silent hill when she was a teenager

• John exclusively listens to Rob Zombie and Colter Wall

• Sadie does the bikini top + swim trunks combo

• Sean just normally wears swim trunks as normal shorts all year round

• -> Sean is also an avid flip-flop wearer and if hes not wearing those hes wearing some ratty old shoes

• Mary-Beth’s biggest fashion icon next to Chappell Roan is Draculaura from monster high and Daphne from scooby doo

• Sean has one of those little hula dancers on his dashboard

• Mary-Beth played volleyball in high school

• Karen does her makeup in the car

• the thing that keeps Mary-Beth up at night besides social media is her watching Shark Week

• Isaac has an unreasonably high score in subway surfers

• Charles has an old Sarabi dog named Taima (🤯)that he takes almost everywhere

• Lenny and Hosea do puzzles together

• the Marston daughter has those rubber band rainbow loom bracelets halfway up her forearms

• the Marston daughter also inherited Abigail's, Tilly's, and Mary-Beth's old Barbie dolls

#rdr2 #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan #charles smith #john marston #the marston daughter #karen jones #mary beth gaskill #tilly jackson #hosea matthews #lenny summers #sean macguire #kieran duffy #sadie adler #molly o’shea

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velvetlilith777 · 3 months ago

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It's Too Late To Turn Back Now...

Sebastian x Reader

Author's Note: It's finally finished! Once I had the idea for this I couldn't get it out of my head and had to give it to you guys, too. This is my first attempt at writing anything at all since high school, but the plot is cute I think? If you have feedback please be gentle lmao <3

Also, so sorry the reader is fem identifying in this! I'm hoping to write more gender neutral fics in the future once I feel more confident in my writing.

Synopsis: Sebastian had been your best friend for a couple of years now, but that's all it was. But if that were true, why did everyone else get a different impression?

Inspired by this post by @creativepromptsforwriting! 🖤

Divider by @bunnysrph! 🖤

CW: fem identifying reader (nothing super descriptive but she/her pronouns used), swearing, the concept of sex is mentioned exactly once passively, one instance of name calling, terrible grammar and sentence structure

Word Count: 10.6k

The autumn air was crisp and light as it breezed through your sweater. Making your way through a crowded main street in the heart of Zuzu city proved to be difficult even by yourself, but today you had others to keep safe and sound.

This was the first trip you'd been able to take to the city in what felt like forever. Having been way too busy with your farm and the order load from Lewis' needs for the valley's various festivals to even dream of making the trek back to the bustling streets you once called home. It was hard enough to carve out time to hear the new songs your best friends had finished for their newly successful band, or make it to the weekly game nights you had become so fond of. Your absence had left a noticeable empty feeling in your group, but your friends understood. Often grateful for the times you did make it to the usual hang out spots or managed to say a quick hi to them while you were out running off to your next obligation. But with the Stardew Valley Fair behind you, your busy season was rapidly winding down as the bitter months approached. There was only a handful of crops left working towards harvest, and your animals had been staying outside as much as possible since these would be the last days before they were shut in from the cold until spring came back around. All of this meant your morning chores were finally able to be completed well before the bus out of town opened for the day, allowing a much needed trip with your friends to the city to become a reality.

Though, it wasn't long into the bus ride before you remembered that hanging with your besties wasn't always a picture of stress relief.

When boarding the bus, you followed the trio to the back where you usually sat to be as secluded as possible. You had a decent relationship with Pam, but she was known to let things slip at the saloon if Gus failed to cut her off soon enough. The last thing anyone needed was Robin or Lewis knowing some of the things you had discussed.

There were barely enough people in the entirety of Pelican Town to fill the bus up, so on these trips each of you got a row to yourselves. You took your usual positions, Sam and Abby sat on the left side while you and Sebastian sat on the right. Within minutes of the bus moving, you realized there was a riff Sebastian had forgotten to tell you about. What you had missed was that Sam had slipped and spoiled the ending of the game Abby had been grinding out for months the night prior. Abby - who was justifiably upset - got immediate revenge by telling him the entire plot of the current season of the show you'd all been watching together. Sam had a tendency to fall asleep 15 minutes in and had yet to catch up, so you and Sebastian had been working overtime to not discuss anything he didn't know yet. So much for that.

As the jabs began to get more serious, you turned around to Sebastian with a puzzled look on your face. Seb shot back a look that said "shit, sorry! I forgot." He then began filling you in over text. He recapped and told you that even though they were even in terms of initial offense, they hadn't stopped there and had been bickering ever since. Dramatically, you rolled your eyes rolled into the back of your head, which caused him to let out a small chuckle. This wasn't the first or even hundredth time the two of you had been on the outside of their arguments, and neither one of them liked to stop until they'd had the last word.

Though the fights weren't missed, you missed your friends. It was just nice to be around them again even as your annoyance grew. There was no way you and Sebastian would be able to hear each other over the existing volume of shouting and the old bus engine, so you opted to talk over text while sending each other silent looks reacting to what you had just sent or read.

Out of the group, you two had the hardest time physically seeing each other, but that didn't mean you weren't constantly talking. You saw Abby the most, seeing how often you were at Pierre's for seeds (or emergency fertilizer for the flowers you were sure you had 3 more days to plant) throughout the busy season. Sam also was pretty easy to make quick small talk with, bumping into him practicing kick flips or playing with Vincent while you hurried into Cindersap Forest to harvest the wood you always seemed to be out of. While you were in the mountains pretty frequently on a mission in the mines, Sebastian was a programmer with deadlines just as strict as yours. Often locked in his basement typing away in a language that looked so foreign to you. Sometimes you'd get lucky and see him on a smoke break, which both of you enjoyed, but usually you tried to let him stay focused and caught up with him throughout the day over text. Sending memes or venting about anything and everything whenever one of you managed a spare moment was the norm. He was just someone you could have a consistent and casual stream of dialogue with.

The topics of conversation were small. Seb asking you about your animals, in particular how your void chickens affectionately named Hecate and Malice were doing. He had instantly loved them since their eggs mysteriously showed up at your farm one day. You noticed that he had changed his normal nose ring out for a black stud that glistened a little every time the light caught it. He said he'd been meaning to do it for a while and appreciated that you liked it. Small, comfortable conversation.

That's how it always was with you and Sebastian. Comfortable. It didn't matter how long you went without talking or what you were doing, there was a level of comfort that came with him that you had never felt with anyone else. That's not to say that you felt uneasy with the rest of your friends in Pelican Town. You knew and loved all of your neighbors - well, maybe not always Lewis, but you got along - and Yoba knows you were down to do anything and everything with Abigail and Sam. But something about the way you relaxed whenever Seb was around was different. And if you didn't know any better, you'd say he felt similarly by the way his shoulders visibly loosened when you made your way into the saloon on busy Friday nights.

The ride to Zuzu city wasn't terribly long, but it was long enough for the incessant squabbling from two of your friends to give you a headache. While Sam and Abby's fights were never actually harmful or that serious, they had a tendency to act like siblings and continually yap nonsense at each other. At some point during the ride the arguing had escalated to Sam having his ear yanked by Abby, which lead you to where you were now. Strolling through the bustling crowds of the city, arm linked with Abby's to keep her heading in the right direction. Sebastian had the same job with Sam hooked to his arm. They were still too focused on one upping the other person to safely keep up with you and avoid getting lost. You and Sebastian also served as a buffer between them which had done very little to get them to stop, but at least poor Sam's ear was safe.

After many crosswalks and a few honks from impatient taxi drivers, you could finally see your main destination in the distance. You and the much taller emo shared a sigh of relief and a slight smile over getting everyone there without too much trouble.

The plan was to visit all of your favorite store in the valley, Electric Park Comics and get dinner afterwards. The store was more of a hobby store in its current era than just a place to grab comics, making it a hit amongst your group. There was something for everyone, the comics in the front being what initially drew Sebastian into the shop on one of his late night rides a few summers ago. He'd also grown fond of the back left corner where they kept old copies of games from consoles past, even occasionally getting in a good condition console for resale from someone who was clearing out an attic. He didn't even realize that section was there until the first time he brought Sam, who found it instantly. The pair had made it a monthly occurrence to make the trip to see what new releases the store had in, until one night they decided to swing by with you and Abby after a successful bar show for Goblin Destroyer. They didn't even have a chance to tell you both that you could head to a store nearby instead of having to wait on them before you were squealing over a Sanrio display they'd never taken note of. The boys had also lost the pair of you after browsing because you'd managed to find a staircase leading to the second floor which housed an in depth occult assortment. After that night, it became a group routine to escape the stress and expectations that weigh on each of you in Pelican Town by heading to that hidden downtown shop and nerding out together.

Approaching the building, you shook Abby's arm and pointed excitedly. The front was decorated carefully with jack-o-lanterns and plastic skeleton statues. Paper cats arching their backs and glittery orange and black garland lined the display windows inside. The festive exhibit and your excitement were enough to get Abby's attention away from Sam's quips. The two of you started excitedly muttering and gasping over how excited you were for the upcoming holiday, and how thoughtful the owner's work was. Sebastian let out an affectionate laugh at the commotion you two were causing. He remembered when you first moved into the farmhouse that autumn was something you and Abby hit it off over immediately. It's was both of your favorite season and you were frequently giddy over anything to do with Spirit's Eve.

Sam was looking away, irritated that Abby didn't care to respond to his last cleverly delivered jab when Sebastian nudged him.

"Hey, what was that for?" Sam muttered under his breath.

"Dude, I know you're upset. But could you maybe just drop this stupid argument for now?" Sebastian said in a hushed tone, holding the blonde back a couple of paces from you. "We haven't been here since the Flower Dance as a group. I'd like to have a good time instead of you guys bitching about something that doesn't matter anymore."

Sam looked around the street and then over as you and the friend he was just insulting minutes earlier. You were still too busy discussing costume ideas and who would get scared in the maze to notice any of this happening. He sighed, realizing how hard it had been to actually get together over the summer despite having made so many plans. How excited each of you were that this had really made it out of the group chat. A slight twinge of embarrassment washed over him.

"Yeah, I guess you're right dude. Abby and I can't take back ruining things for each other but I guess we shouldn't ruin this too." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose realizing he'd also given himself a slight headache the last couple of hours. "I'm sorry."

"It's all good. This is just as much on Abby as it is you. She's just successfully distracted right now" Sebastian laughed.

The boys looked over at the two of you scheming ways to get Marnie to let Jas go in the maze with you this year and shook their heads knowingly at each other.

"Let's go in before they figure out a way to actually make that happen and I have to hear Vince cry about it" Sam chuckled.

He swung the door open. The little bell snapped you and Abby out of your festive ramble and both of the boys faked a gentlemanly usher for you two to go in first.

You walked into the shop and waived hi to the owner Henry as you shook off the chill from the outside.

"Long time since I've seen you miss" Henry smiled at you.

You let out a tired laugh. "Yeah, the farm has kept me plenty busy this year. Knowing the ropes made me too confident and I narrowly avoided biting off more than I could chew."

"Well you made it through. Sounds like you have a reason to celebrate." He let out a hearty chuckle. It was warm and reminded you of your grandpa's years ago.

"I sure do!" you beamed back at him.

You made your way over to the Sanrio section to debate which plushy of your favorite character you wanted to add you your collection this time. Sebastian came over to join you briefly before heading over to the comic aisles that would have his attention for the better part of the next hour.

"Hey, they've got new stickers this time." He motioned to a colorful assortment of little animals is various poses. "We should get matching ones for our helmets."

As you began walking over to look over the selection, the smile on your face turned into a frown. You realized in the whirlwind of the summer you'd forgotten all about the helmet that Sebastian had ordered you for when you accompanied him on his bike. His spare was cheap and clunky, he wanted you to have one a little nicer on the nights you were his backpack.

"Seb, shit I'm so sorry. I forgot you'd done that. I've been meaning to ride with you I promise it's just-"

He cut off your panic with a smile and a finger to your lips. "It's okay, it's not like it was running for a month anyways" he snorted at his own misfortune. "What do you think about these?"

He held up a pair of stickers, one being your favorite sanrio character and his being Badtz-Maru giving off some serious side eye.

"Those are perfect" you giggled at his choice, knowing how often you'd seen him give that same look to everyone you knew in town. "But I also like these" you showed him two carefully chosen frog stickers, both funky little guys. One had a knife with a mildly threatening aura and the other had a bow.

"Dude I didn't even see those!" His face lit up at the sight of his favorite animals in silly situations.

"So these ones then?"

"Nah, let's get both" he smirked as he gently ruffled your hair. "As long as I get the one with the knife."

"Oh, I was thinking you needed the pretty little princess frog myself" you smirked back at him.

From across the room Henry chuckled "she's right you know, it suits you."

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow his way. You'd forgotten he still hadn't let off the tough guy exterior around the shop's owner yet, giving off the same reserved energy he gave everyone outside of your group and Robin.

"I'm only teasing, kid. She'd fist fight you over the one with the bow and we both know it." Henry winked, responding to Sebastian's silent questioning.

You giggled at the interaction which caused him to raise an eyebrow back at you in retort.

"Hold on to these, will ya?" You nodded, Sebastian handed the Sanrio pair in his hand to you and headed over to the comic aisles to look at the newest editions.

Your attention turned back to the plushies you were initially interested in. After mulling over the options, you landed on one holding a little pumpkin, perfect for the season.

Heading upstairs to join Abigail in your shared love for the occult, you heard a snicker that you knew meant she was up to no good.

"Abs?" you called out reaching the top of the steps.

"Here! Come help me with something" she ushered by a grand shelf on the far wall.

Glancing around at the intricately designed candles used for different rituals and practices, you were enamored with the possibilities until Abigail spoke up.

"Which of these candles do you think I could trick Sam into thinking I'm putting a curse on him with?"

"Abs, you know that's not how that works" you let out an exasperated laugh.

"Of course I do, we practice together" she rolled her eyes. "But you know who doesn't? Sheltered little Sam."

Raising an eyebrow, you reminded her "just because Jodi is strict doesn't mean he's sheltered." It was true that Jodi didn't let Sam do a lot when he was younger, but Sam had done a lot of catching up in recent years, especially with you three as his friends.

"I know that but spiritual stuff still freaks him out. You've heard him muttering to Yoba when we play certain games. He hasn't shook all of what her and Kent drove into him."

And it was true. He wasn't good for anymore than 3 rounds of Phasmophobia before he needed a break and he refused to be the one to use the spirit box even if he was the only one left alive. But you still weren't sure that a candle would be enough to trick him.

"I don't know Abs. Maybe you should drop this fight? You already got even with him by ruining season 3. Besides, it's still just a candle."

"Yeah I could, but he threw hundreds of hours of my time down the drain with that spoiler and called my dad a 'rat faced bitch.' Which was clever but I'm the only one who can say that stuff about him!" she whined.

"Listen, you do what you're gonna do, but I won't help you" you put your hands up in surrender. "I just want a nice time with you guys before I have to finish out the rest of the growing season."

Hoping your words had some effect, you went to take a look at the crystal display to see if there was anything you couldn't find in the mines back home. Mostly pretty common stuff, but there was a particularly beautiful carnelian necklace that caught your eye so you decided to grab that as well.

Satisfied with your choices, you left back downstairs to see if the guys had found anything worthwhile. Not to your surprise, Sebastian had each new release of his favorite series in his arms and a new Solarian Chronicles notebook to run his campaigns out of. Sam was rambling on about a new album to him with a new game and a figurine of his favorite character from the last series you all played together in hand.

"Successful haul?" giggling as you cut Sam off from his speech while you motioned at Sebastian's armful of comics.

"S'pose. Wasn't planning on grabbing this much but I missed some updates I guess" he shrugged.

Turning to Sam, you asked him about the game he'd chosen.

"They didn't have the game I hoped for, but I wasn't holding my breath cause it's a popular release" the blond explained. "But the did have this one. I don't really know much about it, but Vince has been yapping about it for a while now. Figured I'd pick it up and it would give me a reminder to spend more time with him. Kinda been slacking on my older brother duties between the band and Joja lately." He let out a small sigh. Everyone knew how much his family meant to him, but he'd been having a hard time finding a new balance between his adult life and making time for the people he loved.

"That's really sweet, Sam. He's gonna love it!" You smiled warmly and nudged him in the arm.

"I thought so too" He grinned a smile of relief at you. "Oh, has anyone seen Abby?"

"She was upstairs still deciding on what she wanted when I came down here. I'm sure she won't be much long-"

You were interrupted by Sebastian grabbing the necklace you had picked earlier from your hand. While he surveyed it, Sam let you know he was going to check around and see if Abby was ready to head out yet.

"Which one is this?" the programmer looked inquisitively at you.

"Carnelian. It helps with courage and energy. Positive life choices and such. I have one on my vanity already but I thought it might be nice to keep one on me" you explained.

"I like it" he smiled and held it up near your face. "Makes your eyes a little brighter."

You grinned up at him, but the moment was cut off when you heard yelling from the back of the building. It was a panicked Sam yelling at what you knew was Abby to "get the fuck away from me!" You shared a tired look, knowing you'd have to step in.

"Un-fucking-believable" Sebastian muttered under his breath. The two of you followed Sam's shouts of terror through the maze of inventory. When you finally found him behind a tall shelf holding old Nintendo 64 games you grabbed his arm in an attempt to get him to calm down.

"Sam, what's going on?"

"THAT is what's going on!" He pointed to the wall where Abigail was rounding a corner, hooded by a cloak she'd managed to find somewhere and holding a black and red candle covered in pentacles. Tufts of purple hair were half covering her face while she muttered completely made up words in a hushed tone. She completed the bit by contorting her face in odd ways.

"Abby, knock it off" Sebastian huffed.

The drummer kept coming closer, causing Sam's panic to increase again. "Stop cursing me bro this isn't funny!"

"She's not cursing you, don't worry" Sebastian shook his head.

"Then why is she muttering shit holding that demonic candle? Sounds like a curse to me!"

Abby was feet away from the three of you now. You reached out and snatched the candle from her hands before she realized what was happening, eliciting and whiny "hey" from her.

"No she's not." you cut in reassuring the blond. "You can't curse someone with just a candle. Even if that was her intention, these are pentacles, not pentagrams. They literally just signify the elements. Seb's right."

"Well he wasn't right about me dropping our argument earlier. I should've known Abby would do something like this" Sam grumbled back.

"I did get him to stop" Sebastian looked at you irritated.

"What like this is my fault?! I told her not to do it and to chill out" you bristled at him. "She's the one that decided to find a cloak and commit."

"Well you could've been more effective is all I'm saying."

"Abby is grown and I'm not her mother." You felt your patience for this situation growing thin. "I wasn't even there when this shit started."

Abby spoke up before either of you had the chance to make this worse. "Guys, I'm sorry. I should've listened and stopped when we were even but he's just so fun to torment. Especially when he's ruined something for me."

"Abby for the hundredth time I didn't mean to." Sam cut in. "You know how I am, I forget who's played and seen what. I don't even remember to call my grandma, dude."

"Hey, I said I was sorry for not dropping it, okay? Are we good now?" she huffed.

Sam didn't look fully satisfied with her "apology" but thought better than to keep this going. "Sure, fine I guess. But only if dinner is on you for fake cursing me or whatever."

"Whatever, I guess that's fair."

With that, you all silently agreed to go pay for your things and head out. As you walked up to the register and sat your things down, you caught a mischievous glint in Henry's eye.

"You buying this necklace, miss?"

"Yeah, I need the energy these days" you joked.

"Oh I mean I just thought it's such a pretty piece, shouldn't your boyfriend be buying it for you?" he glanced at you with a smirk dancing across his lips.

"Boyfriend?! I don't have a boyfriend." The owner's statement had caught you so off guard that you were fighting not to stumble over your words. You turned around to your trio of friends to find them looking just as confused as you were.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" You turned your attention back to Henry, who was clearly a little flustered himself now. "I didn't mean - I just thought with the matching stickers and the way you guys look at each other. Not to mention you were just fighting like an old married couple in the back..." he trailed off before going back to ringing up your items.

Then it hit you. He meant Sebastian. He thought you and your best friend were a couple? You turned back to the group again to read everyone's faces. Sebastian was bright red and just as shocked as you were. However, the other two looked like they understood what he was saying. Only looking at each other for confirmation, they wouldn't look at either of you two.

You paid for your things and said thank you to Henry who was still a little embarrassed at his assumption. He eased up a little when you reassured him you'd see him much sooner this time as winter was coming up.

The four of you waved goodbye to the shopkeeper and headed back out into the chill of autumn. As your group began to navigate the streets in search of food, no one spoke. The lineup was in direct contrast to when you had arrived earlier, with Sebastian and yourself on the outside this time using Abby and Sam as a buffer for your embarrassment.

Thoughts were swirling around your head like the leaves in the city air. Why would he assume you were dating Sebastian? The comment about the way you look at each other really stuck out to you. And why wouldn't Sam and Abby acknowledge you once he elaborated? Because you and Seb were so close as friends, you'd never allowed yourself to even wonder if you liked him and you were more than sure he hadn't either. Surely this whole situation was just a one off case of Henry misreading your group, right?

After what felt like hours but in reality was maybe 10 minutes, Sam was the first to break the silence. "So we never decided where to go for dinner - any thoughts?" He cleared his throat like he was almost as uncomfortable as you and Sebastian were.

"That new burger place just opened this weekend? But that probably means it's packed" Abby responded. "We could always just stick to tradition and grab some Chinese?"

"Works for me!" Sam smiled.

At least a minute passed before he spoke again.

"What about you guys?"

You were shaken out of your trance when you felt an elbow lightly nudge you and realized the blonde was peering down at you.

"What? Oh sorry, yeah, that sounds good to me."

It came out in a stutter but you smiled back at him to try and reassure him you were fine. Sam knew you better than that, but he smiled back and turned his attention towards the only person who looked more uncomfortable than you did.

"Seb? You here?"

"Ye-yeah that's fine." he mumbled.

"Then it's settled. Chinese it is" Abby grinned.

The rest of the walk was just as quiet from Sebastian and yourself as it had been before the question of dinner was asked. Abby and Sam had filled the silence by talking about the latest gossip on Marnie and Lewis' failed attempts at a hidden relationship. Occasionally you'd giggle at some remark one of them made about the mayor and his commitment issues, but that was all you could manage.

The owner of the restaurant you usually frequented on these trips to the city greeted you with a smile. He did most of the cooking so you'd never actually spoken to him, but he recognized your group and had always been kind. You all smiled and waved to him before heading to take a seat at an empty table. The warmth of the restaurant and the aroma from the kitchen seemed to lighten everyone up, but there was still a twinge of tension in the air. Instead of your usual seating arrangement, you found yourself sitting next to Sam and across from Abby. It was a subconscious decision from everybody, but one everyone noticed. After you'd made your final decisions on your meals, everyone went right back to the usual dynamics.

"I'm paying, did you really need to order the damn menu?" Abby let out a laugh of disbelief at the amount of food the staff was placing in front of Sam.

"Maybe, but it's a small price to pay for what may or may not happen to my bloodline in the future" the guitarist cracked back with a mouthful of food.

Sebastian snorted a laugh at his remark which was the loudest he'd been in a while. While also letting out a giggle, your eyes locked for the first time since the comic shop. He gave you a half smile while a light wash of red colored his cheeks. He was fidgeting with his rings like he would do in most uncomfortable social settings, but not usually with your group. It was hard not to comfort him but you were well aware that you were the reason, so instead you smiled back and turned back to Sam. Not ideal, but it felt a little comforting to know he was in the same boat you were.

Conversation flowed easier after that. Sam insisted that he was getting closer to beating Sebastian at pool, which was denied by everyone else. Abigail ranted about her latest fight with her dad for going out to the Wizard's tower again. Goblin Destroyer had quite a few small shows they were asked to perform at throughout the winter, so you made sure to write those dates into your phone calendar. You had to miss their most recent show because it was your last chance to plant a full pumpkin harvest for Spirit's Eve and you'd been beating yourself up for it. Maybe the worst thing Abigail could've done was asked you if you wanted to hear the fun bits from that night, but you unknowingly said yes thinking you'd just hear about how much the crowd loved the band or the drunk shenanigans of a 40 year old man.

"....Anyway, after the final song I started taking apart my drum kit. I look over and the guys are sitting on the side of the stage and these two girls are almost throwing themselves at them" Abby snickered between bites of food. "They were so cool and pretty I almost warned them about the 45 minutes I was stuck listening to them argue about a plot point in their new Solarian Chronicles campaign on the bus! But then they all went somewhere together so I just kept packing up."

You felt all of the color drain from your face at the emphasis on 'somewhere together,' but you weren't sure why. If they really were so cool and pretty that Abby mentioned it - and Seb went with them. Fuck. That's your best friend. You should be happy for him! Why aren't you happy for him? Why is your stomach in knots?

As confusion and shame bounced in your head, you'd made yourself smaller and started picking at the skin on your fingers. Eyes focused on your hands twisting in your lap.

You didn't realize it, but Abby had been staring at you intensely for a minute.

"Alright. We gotta talk about it."

You peered up through your lashes, now aware that the whole table had been silent too.

"Talk about what?" Your voice came out sincere but barely above a whisper.

"This! Whatever is going on between you two" her eyes flicked back and forth between you and the emo on her side.

Sebastian huffed in annoyance. He was bouncing his leg and staring at the ceiling like he'd rather be anywhere else right now.

"What are you talking about? Nothing is going on" you insisted.

"Bullshit!" she immediately yelled, like she'd been waiting on you to say those exact words.

"Abby, I told you, I don't think they know" the guitarist cut in with a much more gentle tone.

"Don't know what?"

Abby scoffed at your question. You narrowed your eyes at her before turning your attention back.

"Sam, what don't I know?"

The blond looked at Sebastian who was still ignoring everyone's gaze, then turned to you and gave you a pitying side smile. "Henry isn't the first person to assume you two are together."

"Whaaat d'you mean?" Your eyes immediately fixed on Sebastian. His leg bounced even more aggressively as he shot you a look that read 'I don't fucking know either.'

Your eyes went back to Sam's as he spoke. "The other day, I stocking produce at work. Pam was grumbling while rummaging through the pairs I had just stacked" he sighed. "Anyway, so I go over to start fixing them when she's done and she turns to me and starts asking me like what Seb managed to do to get a pretty girl like that? I was lost bro. But then she started in about seeing him in a city and not out with the cows or whatever and I realized she meant you." An awkward laugh left his lips as he looked down at the table for a second. "But I immediately told her that we're all just a big group of friends! Then she mumbled something about me not having two pennies to clink around in my head and walked off."

"What does Pam know? I can't remember the last time the Saloon smelled as strong of beer as she does on a Wednesday morning" the emo puffed from his seat.

"Pam might be a drunk but the rest of Pelican town isn't" Abby sneered at him. "My mom said something about it the other day. Evidently she got the idea from the dance of the moonlight jellies when you two were sitting on the dock resting your heads on each other. Couldn't believe it when I told her you guys were just friends."

"My mom too. She won't ask me how you are anymore unless she's heard you out front while I'm out. She waits for Seb to come over because he always knows more than I do. Heard her muttering something about 'young love' to dad about it the other day."

Your eyes were bulging out of your skull at this point. "Your mom? I see her almost daily on my errands and she's never said anything?"

"Well she figured she'd let you guys talk about it in time or something I'm not sure. Dad came home and thought it was crazy Seb has a girl that looks at him like that and he hasn't 'wifed her up yet.' He dropped it though cause mom yelled at him." Sam awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't look at him like anything?! Seb's just my best friend and your parents are crazy" a high pitched laugh left your voice as you spoke.

"Yeah, that may be true," Abby interjected, "but Leah isn't. She came into the store when I was working the other day and asked me if she'd missed something. I guess he was brought up while you guys were on the dock in the forest and the way you talked about him... she just assumed" she shrugged.

You felt like you were in an alternate reality. Here you were, at dinner with your closest friends being told that the entire town thinks you're dating one of them. Was this all a dream? Did the spaghetti you grabbed from Gus last night not agree with you? A chuckle of disbelief slipped past your lips.

"Okay. Is there anything else? Another case of delusion you can think of?" Your eyes bounced between your friends who were making uncomfortable eye contact.

"Yeah." Sam coughed. "I wasn't sure I was gonna say this but, since neither one of you have taken this well I guess I should." He paused, flicking the guitar pick on his necklace finding the words.

"Spit it out, Samson" Sebastian grunted.

"Okay, okay. You know how Vince has started calling you Uncle to piss you off because he's convinced we're old?"

Sebastian nodded, not seeing where this was heading.

"He asked me on Monday if when you got married if he should start calling her aunt because of the joke, or if that was too mean because of how nice she is to him."

Sebastian stared so hard at Sam that he could've put holes through the poor guy.

"Oh my god" was all you could say. You could feel actual panic sinking into your chest with all of this information. Everyone in the valley really assumed you were dating and you'd never thought of him that way. What were you doing? Were you crazy? Were they crazy? Could you even keep a relationship with him after this knowing that your friendship had been so abnormal it fooled the people who were around you everyday?

Your friends broke the silence again.

"It's not just Henry and it's not that anyone else is wrong" Sam stated.

"Yeah. I mean, can you guys really not see that you act as if you're in a relationship? Like, minus the title and the kissing and fucking, you're there already" Abby let out a nervous laugh.

You made eye contact with them both and could tell she was sincere. They both were. Your friends agreed with everyone else.

Appetite now fully gone, you started collecting your things in any attempt to leave this situation. Sebastian had the same idea and went to the register to go pay for his meal. You dug in your purse in a frenzy to find your wallet so that you could leave a tip and head up front to pay.

"Hey, we didn't mean to upset you." A worried tone coated Sam's words.

"I know you didn't, but what the fuck did you think would happen? I've never thought of Seb that way and I know he hasn't thought of me like that either. And to find out it's the whole valley..." your panic was leading to tears. It wasn't sadness, it was the most overwhelmed and confused you'd ever been.

Finally, you opened your wallet only to realize you didn't have the right bills for an efficient tip. In an attempt to get as far away from tonight as possible, you whispered 'fuck it' to yourself and left what was the equivalent of a 60% tip. You had geodes to open tomorrow so it would be fine. You stood up abruptly, leaving Abby and Sam to murmur amongst themselves at the mess they caused and marched to the register.

Sebastian was standing there still when you made your way over. Tears were beginning to fall silently down your face despite your best efforts to hold them back. The anger you felt at yourself for crying right then only seemed to make it worse. As you approached the staff member with your card in hand, the programmer reached his hand out and place it along your lower back in any attempt to comfort you and pull you in.

"I already paid for us" he mumbled in your ear. "Let's take a breather before they catch up."

You both gave a half hearted smile to the owner as Sebastian whisked you out of the door. Inhaling deeply, the air was sharp in your lungs. Winter wasn't far off and the chill reflected that.

Standing silently side by side, you both took in the city lights and the night time bustle while trying to calm yourselves. Fresh air helping to ease your nausea and lower your heart rate a bit. You hadn't planned on being out this late, your sweater was no match for the climate. Noticing you folding your arms over in an attempt to block out the cold, Sebastian took off his leather jacket and tapped on your shoulders to let him put it on you. You obliged. Normally, you would've argued, insisting that he needed it more. But normally, that was met with him reminding you he had a hoodie and a long sleeve shirt on underneath it, which had been the case every cold outing since your first fall in the valley. He knew you'd miscalculate and he wasn't about to let you freeze.

Once the jacket was secure on your shoulders he resumed his place beside you. In sync, you both looked each other in the eyes. Your tears had slowed but were still falling quietly down your cheeks. Otherwise you were expressionless. So was he. Surveying each other didn't help because neither of you were allowing yourself to be read. All you two had was the assumption that the other's brain was running just as fast as yours was. You took each other in silently until you heard the restaurant door open. You knew it was Abigail and Sam finally coming out to head home, but you held each other's eye for a moment longer. Now that the duo had met up with you, you left for the bus.

Everyone stayed tongue tied on the trek home. After climbing on the bus, you slumped down in your seat and turned your overhead light off. The tension was thick and while you couldn't bare to speak, you also hated that your friends weren't. Opting to put your headphones in and listen to your favorite Spotify playlist on the way home to shut out the tension, you shut your eyes and let your mind run through your feelings as the music lulled you.

Something about Sam and Abby agreeing that you two acted like a couple stuck with you. They spent the most time around you and knew both of you more intimately than anyone else ever did. If everyone already say you as a couple, why didn't you? You remembered repeating the phrase "I've never thought of him like that" throughout the night... maybe you should try? Maybe that was the only way to work this out?

Your mind drifted to your favorite moments shared with him.

Days you'd carve out time to play video games with him in his room, he'd reach over and help you stay alive in the first person shooters you were always dreadful at. How he'd chuckle when he saw you accidentally bomb yourself for the 20th time that day and you'd elbow him to stop. You pictured how he always smiled warmly at you when you did that, even though you always followed it with an eye roll.

It was unspoken that within 5 days before a new growing season, you'd be over in his room while he worked. Notebooks, a calendar and your choice of caffeine sprawled out on his floor while you quietly mapped out where each crop, bee box and sprinkler would be most fruitful. Occasionally you'd grumble, stumped on what the best choice was. He'd always look away from his screen, pull you into his lap and ask you to elaborate on the dilemma before helping you through it. Somehow he always chose correctly.

When he did have downtime in between jobs, he'd come over to your farm to help in whatever way he could. It always ended up with him talking to your animals while you worked, but they all were glued to him so you didn't mind. Afterwards you'd sit on the porch and eat dinner together while the sun set. Talking about new dreams or thoughts on philosophy while you soaked up the last of the sun's warmth together. You swear every time that happened a new freckle would appear on him within a few days, but it didn't happen often so you couldn't confirm.

All it took was a text that you were sick, sore or having a bad mental health day for him to pack up his laptop, his mom's pumpkin soup and be knocking at your door. Despite being a recluse, he rarely got sick so he'd always work in your bed or on your couch with you lying against his side. Stopping anytime you needed water, medicine or to be told that everything would be okay and you'd get through it together. You'd watch tv or youtube when he'd finished while he rubbed your back and played with your hair until you fell asleep. He'd never leave until you woke up and he could see that you were better.

Rainy days spent frog hunting. Watching him light up telling you about the different species you could find throughout the valley. Sometimes they'd have distinct markings and you'd see them multiple times so you'd give them names and lore. The rain making you feel like children again, so you'd start play fighting until one of you was in a puddle, giggling and shouting like second graders the whole time. Robin always shaking her head when you inevitably trudged through her house soaking wet, so you'd both started changing back at the farm first.

Or what was maybe your favorite, when he needed his hair dyed. He never got it perfect when he did it alone, and Sam always made a huge mess of it so it wasn't long after you met that he had asked you to help. It was a frequent occurrence because he'd actually rather die than be perceived as a ginger. Whether it was your bathroom or his changed, but the routine stayed the same. You were always wearing his oldest band t -shirts together, you sitting on the sink laser focused on not missing a spot while music blasted. If you wanted your hair done too, he'd of course help you afterwards and go so slowly to make sure it was as perfect as you always did his. It always felt so intimate and you never failed to take note of how much softer and relaxed his features were in that moment than when you were out with others.

Your stomach fluttered but not from nausea this time. It was butterflies. Fuck. Of course it was. How did you not know how you felt about him? Remembering how you'd go out of your way to make him smile every chance you got. His first birthday as your friend, you spent money you didn't have on a sword upgrade to find obsidian because the usual frozen tear simply wouldn't do. The way your heart felt like it was doing a back flip anytime he looked at you, and had even when he asked you "of all places, why would you move here?"

Okay. So you did like him, but that doesn't mean he felt the same way.

You opened your eyes upon feeling the bus come to a halt. You realized you were already back at the bus stop by your farm, guessing that the trip went so quickly because of how hard you'd been thinking. You grabbed your things, stood up and waved a rushed goodbye to your friends before heading home. You hated to leave so coldly but your mind was a whirlwind right now and you had so much to untangle. Sebastian wasn't far behind in leaving for the mountain, which left Abby and Sam to walk each other home and talk about how worried they were for the friendship now that this was out.

Once you'd shut the barns up to keep your animals safe for the night, you unlocked the door to your house and picked up your cat. Burying your face in her fur for comfort helped ground you a little bit. After a couple of kisses, you plopped her down on the couch and kicked off your shoes. Your music was still helping to combat your mind from going haywire, so you opted to keep your headphones in as you padded to your bedroom to change from the cute outfit you'd planned out for two weeks in favor of something more comfortable. Grabbing your comfort hoodie - it was old merch from your favorite artist - and a pair of sweatpants from your dresser, your mind began to drift back to that question you left unanswered as you pulled back into Pelican Town.

Does he feel the same way about me?

You began to replay those favorite moments in your mind again, searching him for clues one way or the other.

As you began to change, you remembered how when he'd help you stay alive in a video game, he was so gentle with you. After he'd succeeded in stopping your demise, his arms always lingered longer than they needed to. Okay. Coincidence.

You headed to the bathroom to brush your hair that was in knots after being out on such a windy day. Thinking back, he'd never complained about you setting up camp in his room to do planning you easily could've done in your own living room? Maybe that was because it operated as body doubling. But he always pulled you into his lap if you needed help. You couldn't think of an excuse for it so you counted it as a point towards reciprocation.

Leaving the bathroom, you made your way into the kitchen to give your cat her nightly treat. As you sat on the floor with her favorite puree in hand, you pondered how many of his off days he had spent helping at your farm. He hated the sun and had no idea what he was doing, but he never complained. Looking at your cat licking away at the treat, you decided that it wasn't you he was coming over for, it was definitely the sweet lives that roamed your property. I mean of course it was, look at this one.

But what about when you were sick? You didn't even know how to begin to write that one off. Maybe just being a good friend? But it was every time you told him something was wrong enough that you could only feed your animals before getting back into bed. Even if he couldn't get out of work, he went through the effort of bringing it with him. Okay, another tally.

By now, the treat was gone and you'd been petting the little lady for a while. You stood up from the floor and began filling your water bottle and grabbing a snack for when you crawled into bed. Frog hunting was easy to discredit, that was just two friends enjoying nature together and being a little silly. Okay, it's 2 to 3 right now.

As you headed to your bed to take your dishes to your nightstand, yours and Seb's favorite song came on your playlist. The one you always scream sang together when it played. You giggled as you remembered dramatically acting out the lyrics in your kitchen while you made sashimi. That was the last time you'd dyed his hair. Setting your water bottle down by your bed, you remembered how the last three times you'd helped him, he kept staring at your lips and making you think you had something in your teeth. Each time you'd discreetly check and you never did, but it was weird enough you noticed it. In the following nights you'd been reading Elliott's second novel before bed and the main character did this before kissing his love interest. He didn't want to kiss you, did he?

You started to climb into bed and follow that thought when you remembered you'd forgotten to take your makeup off. Begrudgingly, you crawled back out and started to head towards the bathroom again. The song was reaching the climax before the bridge that was always your favorite part as walked through the living room towards your destination. Your eyes landed on a doll that you had bought yourself because Jas owned her best friend and she loved coming over and playing pretend with you when you weren't busy. You stopped dead in your tracks as you stared at the toy. It felt like someone had punched you in the gut.

You were immediately taken back to the end of summer. The two of you had spent the evening after work and school twirling in your sundresses in the forest like you were fairies. Jas asked you if you'd help her with her evening animal chores before heading home and you were never one to tell her no unless you had to. While you were brushing one of Marnie's cows, you remember Jas had asked you a question that you now realized you misunderstood. You thought the question came from the fact that Vince was still young and tormented Jas more than he should, but that wasn't the case.

"Do you think when we're older and grown up that Vincent will be my Sebastian?"

She had asked you with such a shy smile you weren't soon how you didn't understand this sooner. Jas was like your little sister, you should've known that she isn't normally shy about anything around you. She was also incredibly observant. This was the tipping point. There was no way this wasn't a fever dream.

Taking off your makeup could wait. You needed to go for a walk.

You threw on your farm boots so any mud from recent rain wasn't something to worry about and hurried out the door.

You began to take the shortcut from the farm to the mountains like usual when your brain was spinning, but then stopped. Realizing if Sebastian was going through half of what you were, he'd be smoking at the lake and he needed his space too. You turned on your heel and decided the beach was where you'd go to figure this out instead.

Your pace was almost a speed walk, itching to sit down and sort through the tangled wires that were whatever the fuck this mess was of a relationship with your best friend.

Finally, you saw sand. Waves crashing down flooded your ears, telling the story of a storm that hadn't yet hit the valley. Careful not to make too much commotion and wake the writer that inhabited the run down cabin, you crept across the small wooden bridge to the secluded beach across a stream. It was pitch black out save for the moon illuminating the ocean. You turned your phone flashlight on to make sure you were avoiding the tide pools. As you made your way down the dock, you saw a small glow of orange coming from a figure sitting at the end of it. Occupied, great.

You started to turn and walk away when you heard a clear "Hey!" coming from the person you'd interrupted. Turning back towards the ocean you realized the glow was a cigarette and you knew the voice you'd just heard. Even better, it's the person you're in a frenzy over.

You made your way down the ancient wooden slats until you were standing next to where he was sitting, dangling his legs off the side.

"You look cute" smoke left his mouth as he spoke, looking up at you.

Remembering that you were going for bedtime panic and not style, you snorted. "Suuure, thanks. It's the boots, isn't it?"

He smiled and shook his head, the smoke exiting his nose this time. "You been thinking?"

"Yeah. Since we left Zuzu. You?"

"'Course. Hard not to when your friends hit you with something like that" he looked up at you, a soft smile creeping across his lips. "Figure anything out?"

You closed the space between you and plopped down next to him, crossing your ankles and pulling your knees up under your chin. "Well, I knew, and then I didn't know. Then I thought I knew, but I didn't know, so I was thinking, and now I think I know but I'm still not really sure" a tired laugh left your chest after you spoke.

Laughing with you, he shook his head and began putting his cigarette out. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."

A comfortable silence found its way to the two of you again as you sat and watched the ocean. You weren't sure what was right or wrong to say here. It felt like your friendship was at jeopardy but also, like nothing was ever wrong to begin with. That old feeling of ease you felt whenever you were with him washed over you regardless of the stakes at hand.

You decided there was no more point in putting it off. You'd been out in a position you didn't think was possible 12 hours ago. Now that you were here, you couldn't see it as a valid reason to start omitting things from him. That alone would change your friendship from what it had been forever.

"I think I know how I feel. No, I know that I know how I feel." You felt so shaky despite managing to sound so confident in your statement. "I'm just not sure about the rest. I remembered something Jas said to me that has me thinking I know the rest but... that's not enough to convince me I'm right."

The emo looked down at you and smiled. Softly, he said "an elementary schooler is where you're finding your strongest sources of evidence?"

"Shut up" you giggled. "Just because she's quiet around you and everyone else ever doesn't mean you should discard her thoughts. She's incredibly intelligent and observant" you poked back.

"I'm not discarding her. Just thought with everything else that her being your biggest form of proof was funny, s'all." He let out a soft, warm chuckle. "I know how I feel too. I have a guess about the rest but my basis of reason is fully in my head alone and not from the mouth of a child," he teased, "so it could just be delusion."

"I would say that you aren't delusional, but after today I can't confidently say that about anyone" you laughed.

It's too late to turn back now. Might as well put everything out on the table.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Always, angel. What's up?"

You paused. "Remember the last time we dyed your hair?"

He snorted and looked away from you, choosing to stare at the waves instead.

"Did I say something wrong?" you felt anxiety ping at your chest. Were you wrong? Should you shut up now?

"No, no" he hushed you. "It's just crazy for you to bring that night up." He looked away again, swallowing a deep breath. "When you showed up here, I was thinking about you sitting in front of me on the counter, so focused on making sure I looked good. Wearing one of my old shirts mouthing the words to our playlist. Your lashes were fluttering as you looked up at me and just -" he choked on a breath. "Fuck dude. It just hit me like, yeah. Actually I know how I feel."

His head turned to look the opposite way of you and started lightly tapping out a rhythm against the dock. The hard part was over for you, but not him. He had no idea what you were about to say and even though you knew he was anxious he was trying not to show it.

You put your legs down and leaned closer to him, the added feeling of you making him turn back towards you.

"I think that night is why I know too."

He blinked back at you. "You mean lik-"

"I was thinking about that night - those nights - while we were on the bus." You realized you were speaking so fast and tried to slow your words. "I don't know, I just never realized how intimate and I guess right they feel? You don't let anyone near you even emotionally, and then there I am. Helping you with something that makes you feel like who you are, bodies borderline intertwined because I need to make sure I get it all dyed. And you always look down at me with this look on your face and when I think about it my stomach flutters and"

Your frenzy was cut off by the realization of how close your faces had gotten. Sebastian was straight faced, locking your eyes with his dark brown ones. Your noses were brushing against each other as he spoke.

"It's happening again" he muttered plainly.

"Huh?" came out as a squeak from your throat.

"I don't think I knew it fully," he inched closer to you. When he spoke again his lips were ghosting against yours "I think I've wanted to kiss you for a while."

"But you still haven't done it" you whispered back.

Your lips met in a soft, tender kiss. It felt treacherous, yet like this was where you had always belonged. Sebastian reached up and cupped below your ear with his hand, thumb rubbing your temple while he deepened the kiss. You grabbed his arm and your other hand searched for his free one, locking fingers when you found it. When you finally pulled apart, you rested your forehead on his, giggling. He smiled back at you. Both of you went to speak and just ended up kissing again, unsure of why this felt so right and how you'd went so long without doing it.

The day before Spirit's Eve had you feeling like you needed to be everywhere, all at once. You had to drop off last minute supplies to Abby for your costumes. Lewis had told you that the Wizard did in fact need more pumpkins so you needed to get them fully harvested and ready to be dropped off the next morning. Jas needed last minute opinions on which costume she wanted to wear which would entail an entire fashion show and you promised Willy a fresh Salmon before the snow hit which was 3 days away.

You weren't sure how, but you'd managed to pull it all off by the time the sun set, leaving plenty of room to fulfill your last obligation; dying your boyfriend's hair. You'd noticed an orange twinge when you were out by the lake yesterday and there was no way he was going to the festival looking like that.

You'd already changed into an old shirt he'd left in your room when his motorcycle rumbled in front of the farmhouse. The engine cut, then there was a familiar voice saying hello to your cat. He headed to your room to change into more suitable clothes in case any dye got on them, while you hooked up the speaker and hit play on your shared playlist. Instantly, your ears were filled with the sound of that favorite song, the same one that had been so pivotal in bringing you two together.

You hopped up to your seat on the counter and called out "Sebby!"

He padded into the bathroom, face softening to that same expression that you now knew was love when he entered the doorway and saw you.

"Yeah, babe?"

"I think now's your chance" you teased.

He laughed and made his way against you, leaning down for a kiss. "Yeah, I think it is."

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv sebastian #stardew sebastian #sebastian stardew valley #fanfic #stardew valley fanfic #friends to lovers #yes the title was ripped from a bad omens song with the opposite meaning of this plot leave me alone #velvetlilith777 #ass trio #goblin destroyer #stardew valley sebastian #sebastian stardew valley fanfic #sebastian x reader #sebastian x femreader

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outlawruben · 5 months ago

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More van der family modern/semi-modern headcannons

Dutch is the type of guy to throw away instructions to IKEA furniture and then cry because he doesn’t automatically know how to assemble it

Dutch/Hosea gave the boys copies of their house keys for emergencies only, but they just come in and out whenever, plus bring whoever they want with them so over the years the whole gang has a house key.

Everyone is a friend of each other, met through work, school, etc. (they live in a small community so they all know each other anyway)

Susan, Swanson, Strauss, and Pearson are all friends of Dutch and Hosea from college.

Arthur would have like a 40 pack of crayons as a kid and John would take them and break them of course, and when Arthur would snatch them back, John would resort to violence. This caused road trips to be extremely long.

Roadtrips:

Arthur: “Hey look there’s a herd of cows!!”

John, extremely loud: “MOOOOOOO”

As they grew older, Arthur mainly draws or reads on roadtrips and John plays on his gameboy/Nintendo DS or sleeps. (He gets sick if he reads in the car)

Arthur definitely pushed John into hotel pools when they were younger. (One of the dads had to get him)

You can definitely hear John’s music blast through his earbuds on all occasions.

Arthur is the kind of kid who’s always looking out his window at the right time and points out any animal he sees. (John always misses it)

John got his scars from being in a bar fight when him and Javier were in a small band in their early 20s. They were in some shitty dive bar and someone broke a bottle and used it against John and Javier. (They stopped touring after that)

Arthur is the designated guy to let the dogs out at night and watch them from the porch in his pajamas, occasionally yelling at them when they start barking at something. He does this even in the dead of winter.

The boys always fight physically/verbally over basically nothing 24/7. When a fight begins stirring in front of the dads they tell them to go outside with it.

John: “I was going to take a nap, I don’t even want to go to the mall..”

Arthur: “well I didn’t even want to take you, Dad wanted you to go.”

John: “whatever.”

John had a huge Pokémon phase when he was much younger, like in 6th grade or something. Gengar is his favorite.

John grew his hair out from a buzz cut throughout high school he shaved it right before his freshman year, and it grew to his shoulders when he graduated.

In the earlier years John and Arthur would argue over which CD they should put in the car. (Dutch and Hosea had one of those thick CD binders in their car, with a huge verity of music)

Arthur: “WE LISTENED TO GUNS N ROSES LAST TIME!!”

John: “NOTHING ELSE IS GOOD.”

Arthur: “THATS NOT TRUE. What about Johnny Cash?”

John: “ugh.. no.”

Arthur: “what’s wrong with Johnny Cash?”

Dutch: “just pick a damn CD already.”

Arthur and John fight over shotgun all the time, even as adults on the rare occasion they’re taking their dad’s car somewhere

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fandom #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #arthur morgan #john marston #dutch x hosea #vandermatthews #rdr2 modern au #rdr2 au

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actuallysaiyan · 10 months ago

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hello! any fics/headcanons on dropping by high school nanami’s dorm room would be wonderful 🫶

warnings: mentions of being promoted, Reader and Kento are both 18!!! In their last year of being at JJT, smut, kissing, vaginal fingering, dirty talk word count: 1.6k pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Sorcerer!Reader summary: Kento just found a box set of 1980s Astro Boy and he wants you to come over to watch it with him! a/n: I wasn't sure what you wanted for this, so I took some creative liberties and rolled with it. I wanted it partly smutty and partly fluffy. I hope you all enjoy!

It was a quiet Saturday night in your dorm room. You sit on your bed, watching reruns of your favorite sitcom. Considering this was your last year at Jujutsu Tech, you knew that things would mostly be a breeze. You’ve been on more missions this year than any other year, but it still felt so much easier than training and learning theory.

Your phone buzzes and your eyes gaze at it for a moment. Then your heart skips a beat when you see who’s sent you a text. Immediately, you open your phone and read the text.

Kento(8:45 pm): Hey are you still around? Or did you leave campus for tonight?

You(8:46 pm): I’m still here. What’s up?

Your heart is racing as you try to come to terms with the fact that your ultimate crush is texting you. You two are close, but he has no idea just how much you’re head over heels for him. He messages you again, mentioning that he’s managed to acquire the DVD box set of Astro Boy from the 1980s. You message him back, asking if you can come over and watch it with him.

Kento(8:50pm): Why don’t you come over right now? I’m just waiting in my dorm.

It doesn’t take much for you to reply that you’ll be over in a few minutes. You throw on a comfy hoodie and you turn off your devices. Then you grab some snacks from your drawer and you head out. With your door locked behind you, you walk down the hallway towards the boys’ side of the dorms.

You knock on his door, admiring the way he’s placed band stickers and mini posters on it to give it some personality. Your smile spreads further when you see him open the door. He looks really cozy right now; dressed in a band hoodie and some sweatpants.

“Are you ready to watch this with me?” He shows you the box set.

“Fuck yeah! I didn’t even think you’d manage to find it!”

Kento smirks, “I’ve got my sources, darling.”

He invites you inside and you feel immediately at home. It’s so cozy in his dorm room. You’ve been here more times than you can count, considering you two are so close, but this is just so special for you. You place your bag of snacks on the coffee table and you sit on the sofa. Kento joins you, but not before he puts the first disc of Astro Boy into the DVD player. You two are sitting so close together, your knees brush up together.

“Thanks for inviting me over.” you bubble, leaning in close to him.

“It’s really no problem.”

The DVD menu starts up and Kento selects the play all function. Then you both sit back, watching the anime you both had been wanting to see for so long. It has become a bit of a tradition for you and Kento to watch anime together. This time, it felt a bit more intimate somehow. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was like you and him had these feelings just bubbling underneath the surface.

Eventually, he turns to you and offers you a soda. You accept with a smile on your face. Things are quiet and comfortable while in his dorm, until he stretches his arms and wraps one around your shoulders. You lean your head to nuzzle against his as you both continue to watch the show that’s unfolding before you on the screen.

“You know…” he whispers softly. “I’m glad we can still have nights like these.”

You turn to face him, “Me too, Ken. Especially since we both got promoted to Grade one recently.”

This makes both of your stomachs flutter. It was a serious move to be promoted to such a rank, but you two were the exemplary sorcerers for this position. Both you and Kento showed lots of strength, courage and ability. It took little to no time to go from Semi-Grade one to Grade one. And now you both were going on missions together, taking down curses together.

“I need to tell you something,” he finally starts up again. “It’s important.”

You turn to face him fully, your heart racing. He looks so good in just the glow of the television and the soft fairy lights he has strung up over the couch. He smiles sweetly before he cups your chin and his thumb strokes your cheek.

“Even if we end up on different paths,” he leans in closer. “I’ll always love you.”

Without another word, he presses his lips to yours. You feel like butterflies are erupting deep in your tummy. Time almost seems to slow down as you finally gain the courage to kiss him back. Your hands come up to begin playing with his hair. When he pulls away, he rubs his nose against yours.

“You’ve always been my pretty girl, yeah?”

You can’t help but nod. It takes so little effort for him to push you down onto the couch, pinning you there. Despite his slim build, Kento is very strong and muscular. He just hides it well. Then once he has you in the position he wants, he begins to undress you. Your eyes shine in the glow of the TV, and it turns him on even more. Something about this moment is just so special.

“I’m always going to be yours,” you promise as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

He nips softly at the tender flesh, making you moan his name. Your legs wrap around him, wanting nothing more than to be as close to him as possible. He smirks against your skin, knowing just how needy you are for him now. He’s feeling just the same; needy and wanton for the woman he’s fallen for so deeply.

“Can I show you just how much you mean to me?” He asks, his eyes dark with lust.

You smirk, “Oh yeah? How will you do that?”

He’s feeling like you’re challenging him now, and that turns him on even more. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. You moan at the feeling of him taking complete control of the situation. Then his other hand unclasps your bra and pulls it off completely. Your breasts spring free, bouncing slightly from being freed from their confines. You whine softly; your body heating up at the sensation of being half-naked in front of him.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” He grunts before dipping down to capture one of your nipples into his mouth.

You buck up immediately, wanting nothing more than to bury your fingers in his beautiful blond hair. But he still has you pinned down to the couch, and his tongue is flicking against your nipples. He doesn’t even have to do much to turn you on, but he’s working hard on making you so aroused. He pulls away slightly, blowing air on your erect nubs.

“Pretty girl,” he coos softly. “Such a pretty princess for me.”

You whine again, begging him not to stop. He leans back in, sucking on your tits. He makes it messy and sloppy, nipping and biting at the tender flesh. His intent is now to turn you on and to mark you up. He wants you to see yourself in the mirror tomorrow and to see these love marks. They are the marks you’ll wear on your body to show the world who you belong to.

“Ken, please…”

He chuckles darkly, “What is it, princess?”

You mewl, “Please Ken I…”

“Use your words, pretty girl.”

Your mind is almost blank with just how much this is all turning you on. He’s usually quiet and sometimes stoic. But right now, Kento Nanami was a different man. You had heard rumors that he was a closeted pervert, but this was proving to be somewhat true. The way he was touching you and caressing you, it seems like he knows a thing or two about pleasuring a woman.

“I need you to touch me,” you breathe.

He chuckles again, then he presses his lips to yours. Your two stay connected like this for a few moments; tongues rubbing together sensually. When he pulls away to let you breathe, a string of saliva keeps you connected.

“Alright, you need me that bad, huh?”

You nod your head, “Need you so bad, Ken…”

His free hand slides down your body, caressing you in your sensitive spots. Then he slips his hand into your sweatpants, gasping softly when he feels that you aren’t wearing panties. He grunts as his long fingers spread your wet folds, prodding your tight entrance. Kento smirks, his eyes growing even darker with lust.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” He asks, rubbing your clit slowly.

You shudder, “M-maybe…”

You let out a moan of his name as one of his fingers slips into your tight cunt. Immediately your gummy walls begin to squeeze the digit and this makes him grunt. He releases your wrists to reach down to adjust his cock in his gray sweatpants. Then his eyes snap up to watch you as he fingers you.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, probably would make me blow my load in seconds.”

His words rile you up even more. Your hips begin gyrating against his hand, and he’s quick to slip a second finger into your pussy. Your juices begin gushing out of your slick hole, and you feel yourself growing closer to your orgasm faster than you ever thought would happen.

“Awhhh close already? Damn, princess, that’s flattering.” He goads. Your hand comes to cling to his arm, steadying him and yourself for the impending orgasm that’s on its way.

He moves his thumb to begin swiping against your clit and the added stimulation is what sends you over the edge. You cry out and whimper as the waves of pleasure crash over you. The entire time, Kento is right there, talking you through the intense pleasure. When you’ve ridden out your high, he leans in to kiss you so softly.

“My beautiful girl…I love you so.”

#bacon.writes #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami smut #kento x you #kento x reader #kento x y/n #Kento Nanami x you #Kento Nanami x reader #nanami imagine #nanami fluff #Kento Nanami fluff #Kento Nanami imagines #jjk kento x you #jjk nanami x you #jjk nanami x reader

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kidstemplatte · 1 year ago

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random papa headcanons

i genuinely don’t know where this came from haha. they range from zodiac signs to hobbies to mental health so sorry for the inconsistency lol. please enjoy <3

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

primo

- primo is one of the most kind and caring people to exist in the world. he’s very intelligent as well- he has a mind suited for many jobs. sometimes he wonders what he would’ve done if he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps.

- he’s a great writer in all regards- poetry, essays, speeches, all of it. he did exceptionally in school and was very humble.

-primo is great at conflict resolution. he’s direct and efficient but considerate of people’s feelings as well.

-generally pretty healthy mentally but has struggled with depression periodically throughout his life.

-i don’t think primo ever planned to be a father, he didn’t even think it was possible considering his responsibilities. but as he got older and reflected upon his life he regrets that he never had children.

- we all know about primo’s legendary garden, but his next project he’s dreaming of is an orphanage in the clergy. or just to overall encourage more inclusion of children :,) (when appropriate ofc haha)

- a hopeless romantic deep down.

-virgo/libra.

secondo

-secondo is a great artist. he likes painting landscapes and scenery. hes also really good at drawing buildings/ architecture. when he was younger he thought maybe he’d be an architect. some of his paintings are hanging around the clergy but nobody knows they’re his.

- good at math but doesn’t enjoy it persay.

- reads a lot of classic novels (and romance books lol) if he’s reading something trashy in public he’ll switch the cover so he isn’t judged and can maintain his reputation ☠️

-i think he’s struggled with depression throughout his life that’s beyond situational. even when he was at his peak, something chemically in his brain just wouldn’t let him fully soak it in.

-extroverted but very distant simultaneously. has a hard time getting vulnerable with people.

-smokes a lot of weed. i think all the papas do tbh

-huge music connoisseur (prestigious metalhead) (will say “name 5 songs” if he sees you wearing a band shirt)

-biiiiiiig leo/capricorn energy.

terzo

- terzo has adhd for sure lmao. he was never diagnosed though.

- he was the walking stereotype for ADHD as a kid: a rambunctious and high-energy boy who struggled in class.

-terzo is very intelligent, though. he just never cared about school too much. he was good at talking his way out of trouble.

-terzo is incredible sensitive to rejection. so much so that he would have a very very hard time confessing his romantic feelings towards someone. (feelings that move beyond sexual attraction)

- his hypersexuality, though he genuinely just loves sex, is often a subconscious quest for dopamine and validation.

- he has a very kind heart, goes out of his way to make people laugh if he sees they’re struggling.

- loooooooooooves to watch reality tv or anything full of drama.

-either a scorpio or a gemini.

-very active online. he’s a little obsessed with reading fan forums and posts. but he also just loves the internet in general

-i think he was the most interactive with fans, he would respond to fan mail most frequently. when he got horny mail from someone he would often respond with equally something equally risqué ☠️but of course when the subject matter was serious or heartfelt he would respond genuinely.

copia

- copia drew comics when he was younger and still does. over time they’ve evolved from mystical stories to simple doodles to get him through the day.

- sometimes he’s a little forgetful and mixes up his papers, so when he confidently hands his mother a comic strip she’s featured in, it’s a little awkward.

- copia loves animals, and he always has. he was afraid of dogs (specifically bigger ones) when he was younger, though. he also likes birds and can identify most species. (so can primo!)

- copia had a little bit of ocd throughout his childhood that’s lessened up over time.

-he also has generalized anxiety that’s lessened after he’s become papa which is shocking

- he has inattentive adhd. he’s an exceptional worker despite his negative symptoms because he pushes himself so hard to succeed. but sometimes he gets a little burnt out and forgets to rest, or spirals into an unmotivated state.

-we all know he’s a huge dork, so to elaborate upon that: he likes star wars, star trek, dc, and comics of all sorts.

-he has a funko pop collection in his office (including one of himself LOL)

-i think he’s a gemini and i’m so passionate about this. that or a pisces.

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

thanks for reading yall :,)) i have more stuff coming up i promise i’m just not able to work as frequently due to school!! i hope you enjoyed.

<3, alice

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houpss · 9 months ago

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The last moment of affection

Peiring:Lee Minho x Han Jisung

ONLY APPEARANCE AND A LITTLE CHARACTER ARE TAKEN FROM REAL PEOPLE. DOES NOT REFER TO REAL IDOLS.

Tag:doomed love, angst, suicide, drugs, death.

Minho and Jisung had a complicated and complex history. Their relationship was riddled with complex emotions and tension, laced with doubt and deception. They managed to change each other's lives, but, unfortunately, not for the better. How did this story begin? What happened at the end? A love story is never happy, love is cruel, and trust destroys hearts.

They began writing this story when they were students in high school.Both are only 17 years old. Minho is the leader of the basketball team, and Jisung is a very attractive guitarist in the school band. Minho is harsh and rude, while Jisung is loud, cheerful and very gentle. Minho immediately noticed Jisung in the crowd, bright blue hair visible in the crowd. Jisung dressed the way he wanted, he did what he wanted...and then Minho wanted Jisung. Jisung immediately fell in love with Minho, maybe this story is about true love? Jisung also paid attention to Minho, but noted him as a very rude and wayward young man.

–"Look, Sonnie, Minho is staring at you again,” Felix whispered in Jisung’s ear and glanced towards Minho, who was sitting at the opposite end of the dining room.

–"He recently invited me to his home..” Jisung whispered mysteriously in response and looked at Minho and waved his hand.

–"And what did you do?"

–"Damn, first we watched anime... and then... he kissed me." Jisung's cheeks turned red and he was sure that Minho was grinning at such Jisung. Felix's eyes widened and he squeezed Jisung's shoulder approvingly, "YOU HAVE TO TELL ME EVERYTHING."

This was the beginning. Everything was like something out of a stupid novel or, even worse, a romantic drama. The relationship started fast and furious, Minho loved a lot of emotions and Minho loved Jisung. Jisung always dreamed of being loved and wanted to love. Minho lifted Jisung to heaven.

–"So gentle when you're embarrassed"

–"Please,Ho..Kiss me again"

Soft laughter, hot hands under a T-shirt and such familiar lips on the skin. The idea of falling in love with Lee Minho was the best thing in life.

–“You look like my dream...you feel like the most pleasant alcohol,” Lee whispered and kissed Jisung aggressively, hovering over him on the sofa. They met at Minho's house, these were secret meetings. Jisung's family only knew Minho as Jisung's friend. But should friends kiss?

–"Sonnie, play the guitar for me. You play so beautifully" Jisung would compose hundreds of lyrics for Minho, Minho would become his eternal muse.

Minho gave Jisung the brightest love, they call it "Eros". Such love is passionate and flaming, implying a loss of control due to love... they have long ceased to control themselves. They seemed to shine with each other. They had so many moments together, so many tender and sweet memories.

And also, as Jisung said, Minho fucks him well. Yes, with Minho it was definitely the best sex, leading to languor and stars in the eyes. Lee Minho knew how to make things pleasant.

Jisung thought about Minho before bed, thought about him in the morning, and thought about him always, absolutely always. Minho settled in Jisung’s thoughts and in his heart, becoming Jisung’s very dream. Han Jisung knew how to love. And Minho...oh dear Minho. Minho never thought he wanted to settle for just one. Lee Minho wanted to take everything at once.

Minho has always been a person prone to cheating. He couldn't stop at one person, one story. But when he decided to cheat on Jisung, his long-term partner and lover, it was too much even for him.

Minho:Hyunnie) can you come to my house by 7:30 pm?

Hyunjin:I can, Minho, what happened?

Minho: Jisung and I had a fight, I'm so bored...

Hyunjin: Omg, I'll be there soon. wait with alcohol.

Minho: Tanks 💌👌🏻

Oh yeah. Minho and Jisung started arguing a lot. Minho often disappears, he's just bored with Jisung. Jisung is too nice, Jisung is too soft and Jisung loves him too much. It was suffocating Minho, he wanted freedom and more lust, Minho wanted more sex. Jisung tried many times to have a normal conversation with Minho, but every time the same short message awaited him: “Don’t bother me, I’m busy.”

Busy...When will you find time for Jisung?

–"Haven't you talked again?"

–"Lix...he always disappears somewhere, he always goes with Hyunjin...it's like I'm nobody"

–"Please Jisung, talk to him."

–"But I don't want to hurt him."

–"Aren’t you in pain yourself?”

Those around Jisung clearly noticed how he was losing interest in life. He couldn't understand how he could think like that...he would never leave Minho, and that thought haunted her every night. He could not fill the emptiness in his soul, and the moral pain became unbearable.

–"I want to watch a movie with you, Sonnie"

–"Min!! I'm so happy, of course I'll come...how about tonight?"

But there were no films. Minho loved the body, Minho doesn't need Jisung's soul. He invited Jisung to indulge in the passions of the night. Jisung is in pain again, but he allows Minho to do it.

Jisung:Minnie, We need to talk

Minho:About what?

Jisung:I know it will hurt. forgive me, you were my best boyfriend...I really love you so much, I always do. I love you until my knees tremble and my heart hurts... but it’s time to end this. You always disappear with Hyunjin or Chan, you always avoid me, it hurts me. I want to end this relationship.

Minho:Oh so pretty)Yeah, we are breaking up. I do not love you. Sorry, I'm late for Chan :)))

Pain.Jisung is so stupid, yes, stupid. It hurts so damn much. It’s as if a tormenting frost has set in on your soul, and the flowers are dying in the frost. as if his heart had been torn out of his chest and left him, leaving only emptiness in him. Full of despair, he experiences a loss of interest in life. Further we go, worse it becomes. Previously, he could find joy, happiness, pleasure in life even in the little things. But now all the days have become gray, devoid of meaning and purpose. It’s dark inside him, a dark forest, as if his soul is immersed in absolute darkness.

"Can I just leave?" - such thoughts arise in him more and more often. What does he have to lose? He lost his soulmate, his family, his love. What's left? Endless emptiness and pain. It's so easy to just stop existing. It's so easy to stop feeling pain. Jisung is unable to live without Minho. Jisung's soul completely dissolved in Minho, but he just laughed at him. Probably Jisung has no value since Minho cheated on him... probably Jisung is not good enough for Minho... Jisung promises to improve. Jisung wants to go back to Minho, but sees him either in Hyunjin’s company or in Chan’s Company.

Jisung's too kind heart hurts, he completely stops socializing. He leaves the group, now the guitar is his past. He dyed his bright blue hair black and permed it, so he's now curly. Jisung wears glasses and dresses modestly, Jisung has lost himself. Han Jisung killed himself. The world is like cracked glass, fragments fly in different directions. Jisung only allowed Felix to come near him, and Felix’s heart ached so much for his friend. Felix doesn't want to lose Jisung.

But Felix didn't have extra ears or eyes, he couldn't always be with Jisung, and Jisung only communicated with Felix. This night will be the loneliest.

Night. White sheets, the silence of the night and only the cool air brought Jisung to consciousness. What a terrible feeling, why does love hurt so much? He missed Minho, he believed that Minho was not bad, but it hurt so much. It hurt as if I had been hit with all my might right in the chest. Jisung saw life next to Minho. Jisung destroyed himself, he gave up his dreams and career. Jisung can't be himself anymore, so what's left? Black curls fell on an unnaturally pale face, Jisung got out of bed and found some pills in the medicine cabinet, he didn’t care what they were. Jisung didn't realize what he was doing or why he was doing it. He just wants to stop feeling pain, pills relieve pain.

Jisung:Sorry, Felix

Jisung:It will be better, better for everyone.

Jisung:I'm so scared, but I have to do it.

Jisung:Sorry bro...you were the best.

Han Jisung turned off his phone without seeing Felix's tirade and the message "I'M ALREADY ON THE GO, PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING." Oh.. Jisung just didn't want to be stopped.Death for lunch today, bon appetit.

Jisung looked at the pills that were lying on a snow-white plate. There is no doubt that Jisung is just tired. Many people say that after death... it is calm and good there, which is what Jisung wanted. Jisung locked himself in the kitchen after changing into a black shirt and black pants, his black curly hair falling over his face. First pills...second...third...fourth...he lost count, I think there were about 30? The last thing Jisung felt was the feeling of doomed love, “I’m sorry that I love you so much, Lee Minho,” Han Jisung’s very last thought.

But Lee Felix didn’t have time, he had to break down the door to the kitchen, where he saw Jisung already dead. He sat just like he was alive, only he would never speak and would never walk. Lee Felix will blame Minho and tell everyone to blame him for Jisung's death. Han Jisung is no longer in pain, he is no longer afraid or in love.

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moonlight-prose · 2 months ago

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screaming SCREAMING SCREAMING omg omegaverse + van helsing would destroy ovaries with ZERO hesitation, that man and his luscious extensions deserve to have fingers running through them and pulled at while he ruts into you. at first he tries to resist it because he doesn’t want to hurt you but he caves anyway. and like idk but i also think aftercare after being fucked into oblivion would be phenomenal with this character?? any scars he accidentally leaves, he would try his best to soothe ✨ not to mention being put into a mating press by that man would be crazy because u just know he would hit so deep, like ok FOLD ME INTO A PRETZEL SIR ‼️

god let us get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 together please 😭 they had no right making him so hot for a movie that came out 20 years ago… him out of the monster hunting garb is literally prince/boy band rockstar material… (don’t believe me? google hugh jackman long hair) need him SAUR bad!!

this man has haunted my dreams since i sat down in middle school and said "yeah sure why not i'll watch this on tv" AND I WAS NEVER THE SAME. ashamed to say van helsing is the only hugh character i ever found hot (sue me i only ever wanted to fuck old man logan). but it doesn't help i've got the hots for men with long hair who are doomed to be sad.

fuck he'd destroy the mattress first of all. he'd shove you into a mating press so fast it creates a high you've never experienced before. and don't even get me started on the possession that lingers in each movement he makes. he's an animal, he wants to eat you alive, he wants to carve himself into your chest with those pretty claws of his.

but he can't. so he settles for the next best thing. and yes it comes with consequences (biting, scratches along your hips where he gripped to hard, dried blood on your shoulder from canines that were too sharp, inflamed tender bruised skin everywhere else he gripped and kneaded to set you into place). but fuck if it isn't worth it.

#witch aunt responds #zloshy darling #van helsing thoughts & musings #van helsing x reader #gabriel van helsing #giggling screaming and dying over this thought

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paperultra · 10 months ago

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THE FIVE NONSENSES

[ SOULMATE!AU ] Pairing: Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader x Miya Atsumu Summary: Like most people, you do not meet the Miya twins so much as they are thrust upon you. Unlike most people, you are thrust upon them as well. read on ao3 | read on quotev

CHAPTER THREE: SMELL Word Count: 8,205 words Warnings: Swearing

“Hey, you! Join the photography club!”

You narrowly dodge the flyer thrust in front of your face, knocking back into someone in the process. Flustered, you move in the opposite direction, only to knock shoulders with another student walking the other way. Both of your apologies get lost in the noise.

“Join the basketball team! Winter Cup finalists two years in a row!”

“Improve your focus in calligraphy club!”

“Join kyudo club!”

“Join marching band!”

With a small huff, you grab the strap of Osamu’s schoolbag and squeeze through the crowd. Osamu looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his raised eyebrow with a grimace; not long after, a hand presses between your shoulder blades to usher you forward.

“Dammit,” Atsumu grumbles, digging his phone out of his pocket. “Where’s the volleyball club?”

“Hell if I know,” Osamu says. “Call Aran.”

“’S what I’m doin’, dumbass.” Punching a few buttons, the other boy presses his phone against his ear with visible impatience. “Aran!” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Atsumu’s voice carries high over the clamor surrounding you, causing several students to swivel their heads. “Where the hell’s the volleyball club? … Class 1-7? Seriously?”

Hanging up without so much as a thank-you, Atsumu quickens his stride down the congested hallway. Osamu follows suit, and you end up seizing the back of his blazer as the three of you head to Class 1-7, evading arms and signs and flyers the entire way.

Having visited the school before to watch Ojiro play, you had known that Inarizaki High School is big; navigating it as a student on the first day of school, however, is a whole different animal. You hadn’t realized it was this big. Or this crowded. After a year of being large fish in a small pond, you now find yourselves in an ocean.

At least you have the twins to rough it with.

(It should be noted that your thankfulness varies wildly from hour to hour.)

Near the entrance to Class 1-7, you spot Ojiro wielding a bright sign advertising the volleyball club. He easily stands head and shoulders above most of the other students, and the sight of a familiar face helps you relax – even though you’d just seen him at graduation a few weeks ago, he somehow looks older here, comfortable and self-assured in the raucous halls of Inarizaki.

“Yo! Aran!” Osamu and Atsumu call out, running up to the second-year. You, still holding onto Osamu’s blazer, are unceremoniously yanked along.

Ojiro perks up and grins widely when you all reach him, freeing one hand to bump fists with the twins. “’Bout time you guys showed up. Thought ya chickened out or somethin’,” he exclaims, then nods at you with a grin. “Good to see you here too, [L/n]-chan.”

You smile back. “Hi, Ojiro-senpai.”

(Of all the people the twins consider friends, which have always been rather scant in number, you like Ojiro Aran the best.)

“Chickened out?” Atsumu scoffs. “No way. You scrubs are gonna need us if ya wanna win nationals this year.”

A laugh bursts out of Ojiro’s chest. “Don’t ya think you’re gettin’ a little ahead of yerself?”

“Yeah, well, what’s new?” Osamu pipes up. He elbows his brother’s side, jabbing a thumb at the doorway when the latter chokes up and glares. “Hurry yer ass up, ‘Tsumu, we haven’t even signed up yet.”

You cough. Ojiro laughs again, leading the three of you into the classroom.

There’s a ton of students already inside when you enter. In one corner of the room is the girls’ volleyball club, and in the other is the boys’, though many are mingling and wandering around to chat. A few are upperclassmen wearing the Inarizaki volleyball team’s jacket – the rest, you assume, are first-years hoping for a chance to join.

It’s not surprising for a school that’s gone to the Spring Tournament almost thirty times. Most of these applicants will be benched for their entire high school career.

Following Ojiro to the desk for the boys’ volleyball club, you encounter the two people sitting behind it.

“Arata-senpai, Kobayashi-senpai,” Ojiro announces, clapping one hand on Osamu’s shoulder and the other on Atsumu’s, “got a package deal for ya.”

The first thing you notice about Arata is how tall he is when he’s sitting down. Then he slowly stands up, and your eyes widen as he keeps going and going, finally stopping about half a head taller than Ojiro.

Arata breathes in, vulpine eyes narrowing, before he slams his hands down on the desk with a loud thwap.

“If it ain’t the Miya twins!” he chirps, voice much peppier than expected, and you choke back a surprised laugh. “I watched yer match last year at nationals. You two think ya have what it takes to be part of a powerhouse?”

“Why talk big when we can just show ya, senpai?” Atsumu says, as if he hadn’t been gassing himself up to Ojiro moments before. He pulls out his signup sheet, already filled out in his usual large, messy print, and slides it over to the captain, leaning over the desk with one hand on his hip. “Got yers, ’Samu?”

“Yup.” Osamu slides his over as well, handwriting slightly neater.

Arata takes the sheets happily. Your gaze falls upon his hands by chance, and then it remains there, taking stock of the scribbles of purple and red decorating his skin.

Ojiro whistles. “Looks like yer soulmate’s havin’ fun with some gel pens,” he comments, pointing at Arata’s hands.

“Hm?” The other boy blinks and takes a moment to inspect the words curving below his knuckles. His brow furrows, and he squints before finally breaking out into a goofy smile. “Ah,” he says, and his voice takes on a distinctly fonder, dreamier tone, “guess they are. They’ve been practicin’ hiragana a lot lately. See? Pretty good, eh?” Arata stretches his hands out face-down, showing them off.

(You can barely read the characters.)

“Neat,” Atsumu says, though his tone has flattened just slightly.

“Right?” Arata doesn’t seem to notice. “We’re gonna finally see each other in person next summer after I graduate. They’re graduating high school this June in Spain …”

“He’s really excited,” Ojiro mutters to the three of you, “in case ya couldn’t tell.”

The volleyball captain’s cheeks turn an endearing shade of pink. “What’s wrong with that, huh, Ojiro? I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with them, so it’s a good sign I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

Next to you, Osamu shifts and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. You feel his elbow brush against your arm, bare skin separated by layers of fabric.

The rest of your life.

A strange feeling forms in the pit of your stomach. It’s the same kind you get whenever your parents ask about Osamu, and whenever you see couples wearing matching outfits at the mall – a feeling a little less than longing, and a little more than guilt. Like you ought to be doing more, saying more, expressing more. Feeling more.

You wonder what it is like to be Arata, infatuated, proudly flaunting the colors on his hands.

The girl sitting at the desk finally speaks up.

“I thought we were talkin’ about volleyball, not yer love life, Arata.”

Your gaze moves away from Arata’s wrists and onto the girl.

Still sitting, she and the captain paint a picture of a mouse and an elephant, her tiny form complemented by large, expressionless eyes and a small nose. The maroon jacket hanging off her shoulders looks one size too big.

And yet, when her gaze flicks over and meets yours, you’re overtaken by a sudden chill.

Scary.

Arata jumps and glances down at her. “O-Oh, right! Sorry, Kobayashi-chan, I guess I got carried away.”

“It’s fine.” Kobayashi continues to stare at you, and you start to feel slightly uncomfortable. “’S why I’m here.”

“Yeah!” Coughing, Arata rubs the back of his neck and turns his attention back to the twins. “Gettin’ back on track … if it isn’t obvious already, Kobayashi-chan is our manager. She’s real good. Real detailed.”

“But I’m also in my third year, which means we’re currently lookin’ for a new manager for next year,” Kobayashi supplies. “So if ya happen to know any first-years who’re qualified and willing to apply for the right reasons, please let me know.”

Your brow furrows at that.

“Whaddaya mean, ‘the right reasons’?” Osamu asks.

A sheepish laugh escapes Arata’s throat. “Well … the volleyball team’s pretty popular, so we get a lot of folks wantin’ to be manager just to get closer to the team and see if one of the members is their soulmate.” He sighs. “It’s not that I wanna keep any soulmates apart, but those kinds of applicants slow down the search, and obviously, we want a manager who actually wants to manage.”

Ah. Already, some of your peers already seem like they’re on a time crunch to find their person. Soulmates are getting to be a bigger and bigger deal as you get older, and with that comes certain expectations. It’s not hard to figure out why some would hope to have someone popular and athletic.

“Sorry, don’t know anybody like that,” Atsumu replies at the same time Ojiro says your name.

You look at your senior, surprised.

He directs a finger upwards. “Ya know volleyball pretty well,” he points out. “Wanna apply? You already manage the twins, after all.”

“Oi, what’s that s’posed to mean –”

Arata seems to finally notice you, eyebrows raising. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t see ya there,” he exclaims. “What’s yer name?”

Reluctantly, you step up next to Osamu and introduce yourself.

“[L/n]-chan. So ya know the twins?”

“I’ve lived on the same street as them since elementary school.”

“Really! Ya must know them well, then.”

“More than well,” says Kobayashi.

She points down at your hand. Arata follows her finger, and you resist the urge to curl your pinkie when his mouth drops.

“Oh, damn, you’re soulmates with – er, uh –”

Osamu and Atsumu just stand there, watching the captain flounder. After a few seconds, you reach up and tug Osamu’s earlobe sharply.

“Osamu,” you say, both as an answer and as a scolding, ignoring the muttered ‘ow’ coming from your right.

Clapping his hands, Arata nods. “You’re soulmates with Osamu-kun! Wow, that’s amazing. And you’ve been together since elementary school? He’d think and play better with you just bein’ there.”

You smile, embarrassed.

“That doesn’t make her the right candidate, Arata,” says Kobayashi. “Even if she really wants to manage the team, she might still prioritize Osamu-kun over everybody else. The last thing I want is a manager who picks favorites.”

She says it so bluntly, so seriously. Your smile weakens as her words hit a sore spot you didn’t know you even had.

There must be a good way to disagree. The two truths of the matter are that being a good manager would mean risking being a bad soulmate, and that being a good manager is a risk you can afford. Osamu isn’t the type of person who needs to be worried about. He gets scraped up, but he doesn’t mind it, and he knows his limits. If a player got hurt right as Osamu called you for something, you know you’d check on the other player first. Even if the other player was Atsumu. (Maybe.)

Osamu simply does not need you to take care of him. You don’t know how to express this without seeming like you don’t care as much as you should.

Atsumu cuts in before you can organize your thoughts into words.

“She wouldn’t,” he says, “unless it’s me. But ’Samu and I are soulmates, so we’re already at our best when we’re on the court.”

The upperclassmen before you tilt their heads simultaneously.

“… Wait,” Arata says after a while, slowly. “You’re tellin’ me that Osamu-kun has two soulmates?”

Osamu glances at you, eyes half-lidded, and you can only meet his eyes for a few seconds before you have to look at the ground.

“Guess I’m favored,” Osamu replies.

“Wow.” Huffing out a laugh, Arata crosses his arms. “Two soulmates … huh. I wonder how that works …” Kobayashi grunts and he clears his throat. “S-Sorry. Anyway, [L/n]-chan, if you’re interested in the manager position, just fill this out and give it to Kobayashi-chan. We’re taking applications until July first or until we find someone, whichever comes first.”

He hands you a sheet of paper, and you take it tentatively.

“My phone number’s at the top in case you have any questions,” Kobayashi adds. Her voice lowers, but its monotony remains. “And if ya end up applying, know that I won’t show any favoritism just because of yer soulmate.”

You take in a breath through your nose, fingers curling into the application in your hands. “Yeah, of course.”

She nods once, then leans back in her seat. The set of her mouth relaxes just slightly, and she crosses her arms, morphing from a cutthroat manager to a tired senpai.

“See ya after school. Good luck,” she says. Her eyes bore into yours. “To all of ya.”

There’s a moment of silent surprise between you, Osamu, and Atsumu. Then all three of you bow as Ojiro and Arata chuckle.

“Thank you!”

—

The twins, predictably, become one of three first-year regulars on Inarizaki’s boys’ volleyball team. You place your manager application in the top drawer of your desk, which you pull out frequently over the next three weeks just to stare at the blank form, unsure about the whole thing.

Saturday afternoon rolls around, and you’ve taken the paper out of your binder and set it on top of your desk at home when your phone buzzes.

Osamu: you home

You: yeah

Osamu: ok

And that’s it. You stare at your screen for a few seconds, unblinking, before you shoot up from your seat and scramble to your dresser to get changed.

Five minutes and a bit of haphazard cleaning later, there’s a few firm knocks on the front door, followed by incessant banging. You stalk over to open the door before it’s knocked off its hinges.

“I could hear you,” you tell Atsumu, unimpressed, as the two enter and shuck off their shoes.

“I know.”

He deftly dodges the kick you aim at his ankle. This usually happens nowadays, unfortunately, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“’S just you here?” Osamu asks, shuffling into some slippers and walking further into the house. His gym bag hangs from his shoulder, big and bulky, and you look at it curiously.

“… Yeah?”

“Fer someone left home alone all the time, you’re duller than a rock,” Atsumu says. “Folks’re gone and ya don’t even throw a party? Geez.”

You narrow your eyes as he grins. “Maybe I just want peace and quiet after havin’ to sit in class with you all week, Atsumu. Anyways, why are you guys here?”

You receive no answer. After eyeing the kitchen, Osamu turns and heads down the hallway, prompting you to follow. You’re further confused when he enters the bathroom and sets his bag on the countertop.

As he unzips it, Atsumu squeezes past you and reaches into the bag, pulling out a –

A shower cap.

“… Is the shower at yer place broken or something?”

“No,” Osamu says, and he pulls something else out. “Ma’s home.”

You stare at the box in his hands. Then you look back up at the twins.

“She’s gonna kill you.”

—

Watching Osamu and Atsumu bleach each other’s hair is like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Their dark T-shirts have speckles of orange on them, there are bits of foil littering the sink and the bathroom floor, and the acrid stench of bleach filling the bathroom is starting to creep down the hallway. You can only hope it doesn’t linger past Sunday night when you go back to the dorms.

“If you screw this up, I’m shaving yer giant head in yer sleep.”

“I’m doin’ it better than you did, ya scrub!”

You stand outside, shirt collar pulled up and over your nose, as Atsumu finishes combing through the top part of Osamu’s hair. It’s an incredible thing to witness: Osamu sitting on the shower seat, hunched over and holding a sheet of foil over his undercut while Atsumu hangs over him, wearing one of the shower caps to keep his own hair out of the way. It’s also a disaster.

You lift your phone up to snap a quick picture.

“Oi! What’re ya doin’?”

“Making a present for Ojiro.” Upon viewing the photographic evidence, you realize something. “You’re not gonna tell Auntie that you dyed yer hair at my house, right?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Osamu assures, letting Atsumu hold onto the foil while he pulls on a shower cap. He sets a timer, and the two of them hurry out of the bathroom to escape the fumes. “She won’t be thinkin’ about the details when she finds out.”

“Like she’d ever blame ya, anyway.” Atsumu scoffs. “You’re the favorite and you ain’t even her kid.”

“Well, I don’t wanna take my chances.” You recall the countless number of times the twins had received a whooping for something stupid they did, and the countless number of times you had just barely managed to slip under the radar by keeping your mouth shut. “Y’know, she might make ya dye it black again if the school doesn’t like it.”

“Please. If anything, they’ll thank us fer givin’ them an easy way to tell us apart.”

“Is that why you’re dyein’ yer hair? You’re already in different classes.”

“It ain’t fer class,” Osamu says. “It’s fer volleyball.”

Atsumu presses his back against the wall and slides down to the floor, pulling up a game on his phone. “Some of the scrubs still can’t tell us apart on court,” he sniffs. “’M tired of it.”

That, you think, makes a lot more sense.

Osamu and Atsumu have always taken full advantage of being identical twins. You’ve seen them pull just about every stunt in the book – switching the way they part their hair on random days, pretending to be the other when one of them gets in trouble, making money off classmates who bet on knowing who’s who (and lying on more than one occasion). Looking alike isn’t usually a point of contention between them.

When it does bother them, volleyball is usually involved. They don’t always wear different shirts or numbered jerseys at practice, and you’ve been to enough of them to know that this can cause issues at the beginning of the year. The coach calls out the wrong name, a teammate calls for Osamu when they mean Atsumu, things like that.

They get especially miffed when one gets praised for something the other did. Atsumu, in particular, hates that the most.

“Ya have anythin’ to eat?”

Head snapping up, you look at Osamu and nod halfway through absorbing what he’s just asked. “There’s leftover onigiri in the fridge and snacks in the cupboard,” you reply, stepping over Atsumu’s outstretched legs to lead his brother towards the kitchen.

(“Heat up an onigiri fer me,” Atsumu calls out.)

(“Get it yerself, lazy-ass,” Osamu shoots back.)

In the kitchen, you fish out the last two onigiri the twins’ mom had given you yesterday and present them to Osamu.

“Here. You and Atsumu can each have one.”

“These the ones with salted salmon?”

You nod.

Osamu thinks for a moment. His lips purse, his eyelids droop, and even though he kind of looks like a lunch lady with that shower cap on, it’s cute.

“I’ll make ochazuke and yaki onigiri,” he decides. “What do ya want?”

“I’ll just have some chips or something. I just ate lunch, so I’m not that hungry.”

He stares at you, then accepts the onigiri from your hands. “Okay.”

Putting the rice balls on the counter next to the stove, Osamu retrieves a small plate, a bowl, and a mug from the cupboard. He finds most of everything else pretty quickly – the cast iron skillet under the oven, the spatula in the drawer right next to the fridge, and the soy sauce and oil in the lower corner cabinet. The only thing he asks for you to locate is the green tea, which you get from the depths of the second shelf in the pantry.

While he works, you grab a bag of your favorite chips and pop it open, leaning against the unused counter on the other side of the stove to watch.

You like it whenever Osamu cooks. The click of the stovetop turning on, the curve of oil being poured into the skillet, and you’re rocking gently in a small boat, curled up in an overstuffed chair on a rainy day.

(It’s an extension of how he feels, you’ve learned – for as much as Miya Osamu loves volleyball, he loves food just a teeny bit more.)

When the oil is hot enough, he unwraps one of the onigiri and places it in.

You turn the opening of your chip bag towards him as he wipes his hands on a towel. “Here,” you offer once he notices.

“Thanks.”

Atsumu’s onigiri sizzles in the skillet while the water for Osamu’s tea continues to heat up. Osamu mirrors your posture on his side of the stove, messily crunching down on several chips, and the two of you wait.

“Didja apply for the manager position yet?”

You swallow too early, rough shards of chips cutting down your throat. Fighting the urge to cough, you shake your head and reach for the water you’d left on the table this morning. “No. Still thinkin’ about it.” He hums. “You guys haven’t found one yet?”

“Kobayashi-senpai’s real picky.” He flips the onigiri over with one sharp push of the spatula, brushing soy sauce over the freshly grilled side. The water boiler beeps right after, and he seamlessly transitions over to pour the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Most of the applicants we saw were annoyin’, anyway.”

“Oh.”

You recall the last practice you’d attended, watching from the balcony with your homework as the team ran laps around the court. The applicant on trial that day had watched them go by a few times, still and proper, before suddenly turning to Kobayashi and excusing themselves from the gym. They never came back.

On the walk back to the dorms that evening, Atsumu explained that the student had a counter for how many times their soulmate would pass by them.

(“Waste of time n’ space,” he’d complained. “Who’d wanna be with someone that desperate?”)

“Ya wouldn’t be half bad at it.”

“… Yeah …”

“If ya don’t wanna apply, just say so.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t know if I’ll wanna do it for the next three years.”

“Whaddaya want to do, then?”

“I dunno.” With a sigh, you set your bag of chips down. “I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to apply.”

Osamu shrugs. “If ya are,” he says, turning off the stove top, “don’t do it just ’cause of me.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, sharp and knowing as he flips the yaki onigiri onto the plate he’d pulled out earlier.

After calling Atsumu, who had migrated to the living room couch while he had been waiting, the twins scarf down their afternoon snack in no time at all and raid your cupboard for the complimentary snacks your parents usually bring back from their trips.

Halfway into his fourth wafer, Atsumu’s timer goes off.

“Oh, shit.” Shoving the rest of the wafer into his mouth and silencing the alarm, Atsumu gets up and eagerly makes a beeline to the bathroom.

“… Do ya think it worked?” you mutter as you and Osamu stand up more slowly.

“I dunno.”

A loud swear explodes from the bathroom.

You look at each other sharply. Wiping the crumbs from your lips, the two of you run over to investigate.

As you get closer, you hear the sink running, then Atsumu muttering underneath his breath.

When you peek into the bathroom, your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Osamu says, leaning past you to get a better look. “’Tsumu, ya look like a carrot.”

“Shaddup, ’Samu,” Atsumu moans, rinsing his hair angrily. “I know. Fuck.”

Hair bleach on dark hair, as you find out, works similarly to hair bleach on dark fabric. Contrary to the sandy blond the older twin had desired, the result he had gotten is instead a bright, burnt yellow-orange matching the stains on his T-shirt. Not carrot, necessarily, but definitely not blond.

“Ugh.” Nose and forehead wrinkling, Atsumu leans toward the mirror, pinching a section of hair between his fingers. “It … it ain’t that bad, right?” His pitch rises with the slightest hint of denial. “I’m pullin’ it off.”

“It’s that bad,” Osamu says.

“’Samu!”

“Maybe you can bleach it again?” you suggest.

“And then his hair falls out? Bad idea.”

“Dye it, then, like you are.”

“We don’t have money left to buy a different color.” With a sigh, Osamu puts his hands on his hips. “Damn. Sorry, ’Tsumu.”

Atsumu groans and thunks his forehead against the mirror, dripping water all the way down its surface onto the counter. His frustration is so palpable that you can feel it prickling your skin.

If he hadn’t been so excited before, you’d probably poke fun. You should poke fun, but the disappointed twist of his lips and the droopiness of his sopping wet hair just makes you feel bad. He looks like a wet puppy.

Dammit.

You take your phone out.

Osamu tracks the movement. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Lookin’ something up.” You press on the first link you see, skim the webpage quickly, and put your phone back into your pocket. “I’m headin’ out fer a bit. Stay here.”

“… ’Kay.”

“Whatever,” Atsumu grumbles.

After grabbing your wallet and checking its contents, you head outside to drag your bike out from underneath the vacant carport. And as you hop onto the seat, pedaling down towards the nearest drugstore, you tell yourself that Atsumu better thank you on his hands and knees once you get back.

—

“Blue shampoo?” Atsumu’s tone is suspicious as he slathers the back of Osamu’s hair in grey dye.

“It’s supposed to cancel out the orange.” Turning the bottle to face you, you read the description beneath the brand name. “‘Eliminates brassy, orange undertones.’ See?”

“It ain’t gonna fuck up my hair even more?”

“’Course not,” you retort, all hopes of veneration quickly fading away. “I ain’t an asshole, Atsumu.”

His eyebrow twitches, hands slowing. You take the opportunity to place the bottle sideways in the crook of his neck, forcing him to tilt his head to hold it in place.

“Oi –”

“Go try it. I’ll finish Osamu’s hair.”

“Yer so bossy,” Atsumu grumbles, but he lets you nudge him out the way, peeling his gloves off and grabbing the shampoo.

You snap some gloves on in turn, keeping one eye on Osamu’s hair and the other on Atsumu as he ducks his head beneath the sink faucet. They’d pretty much finished up applying the dye for Osamu, at least from what you can tell, so you start combing through the locks with your fingers to make sure everything is covered.

Miya hair is very thick. Soft, too. You hope all this bleaching and dyeing won’t ruin it too much.

“Hm,” Osamu hums abruptly.

You stop. “What?”

“Nothin’.” You furrow your brow but resume, only to just barely hear him mumble, “… Feels nice.”

Oh.

A smile crawls onto your lips without warning, the space behind your ribcage suddenly cozy and soft.

“Alright, I’m doin’ it,” Atsumu announces. You look up just in time to see him squeeze a dollop of shampoo into his hand. “Euch! It’s so blue!”

“Why do ya sound so surprised?!”

“Shaddup, I just wasn’t expectin’ it to be so dark! … Smells okay, though …”

While the shampoo does its work on Atsumu’s hair, you take a little extra time combing Osamu’s. He remains quiet and still, thumbs tapping idly on the dark screen on his phone. You wait for him to make more snide remarks at Atsumu’s expense or complain about the smell of the dye, but he doesn’t.

You eventually finish up while the water still runs blue and sudsy into the bowl of the sink. Osamu mutters a thank you and ambles off after eyeing his brother for a few seconds. You linger for a while longer.

(God, you hope it works. If not for Atsumu’s sake, then for your pride and your wallet.)

After what seems like forever, he rinses out the last of the shampoo, wrings his hair out a bit, and straightens up to look in the mirror.

You examine his reflection as well. It’s less orange, yes, but still not as light as he had wanted, more gold than sand. Not necessarily good, but certainly less bad.

Atsumu fixates on the more muted shade of his hair for a minute or two. His lips press downwards at the corners, and then they part to say your name.

You blink.

“What?”

“Why’d ya buy the shampoo?”

He sounds almost accusatory, but not quite; there’s an undertone that you very, very rarely hear in his voice. He meets your eyes in the mirror, hair a dripping, tangled mess.

“… ’Cause I felt bad fer ya,” you admit unwillingly. Atsumu makes a face, and you sharpen your tongue, because that is what feels comfortable with him. Normal. “And I didn’t want to hear ya mopin’ and complainin’ about it all week.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he persists. “I coulda pulled it off.”

You scoff. “Just ’cause you’re taller than most of the school doesn’t mean they wouldn’t’a noticed. And anyways, it’s better now, ain’t it?”

“I didn’t ask ya to buy it.”

“Ya didn’t even know what it was until I told you.”

“An’ if I did, I still wouldn’t’ve asked!”

“Yeah, ’cause yer prideful ass would rather die than ask fer help!” you snap, jabbing his bicep with your finger. “God! I knew ya wouldn’t even say thank you!”

“Well, if ya knew I was gonna be a dick about it, why’d ya waste yer money?!”

“I felt bad fer ya!” you screech. “My mistake!”

“Yeah, yer mistake!” Atsumu shouts back.

Chest heaving for breath, you glare at him. He glares in return. Temper pinks his face and the tips of his ears, flares his nostrils and curls his lip in that fierce and familiar way. In the back of your mind, you know you are doing the same.

Asshole.

You’re angry, yes. And offended, and exasperated, and and and –

And hurt.

“It’s so hard,” you say, your voice deciding to crack at the worst time possible, “to be nice to you sometimes, Atsumu.”

When the words leave your throat, his face grows blank in that way you’ve always hated, his mouth pressing into a fine line.

“So?” he replies.

You roll your eyes. “Forget it.”

Casting one last glance at the bottle of shampoo next to the sink, you clench your fists and turn to leave. What a waste of money. This is the last time you’re ever going to feel bad for him.

A hand wraps around your elbow upon your first step outside the bathroom.

“… Are ya cryin’?”

“No,” you bite, wishing he hadn’t asked because now you do feel like crying, just a little bit.

Atsumu pauses for an excruciating moment. You can practically feel his distaste for whatever words he’s about to say.

“I’ll pay ya back,” he mutters. “Fer the shampoo.”

“No.”

“Whaddaya mean, no?”

“I don’t want yer money.”

“Well, what do ya want, ’cause I ain’t owin’ ya anything.”

“I want a thank you.”

“… Can’t I just –”

“No.”

Atsumu throws his hands up. “Fine!” he says. “Thanks fer buyin’ somethin’ I didn’t ask fer! There, ya happy now?”

“I want ya to mean it,” you say quietly.

“I did mean it.”

You cross your arms.

He groans. Glancing around as if checking for hidden cameras, Atsumu slowly pushes his bangs away from his face and wipes his nose, sniffing.

“… Fine,” he eventually grumbles at the floor tiles. Cheeks puffed, he looks up at you from the corner of his eye and scratches the back of his head. “The shampoo fixed it a little bit,” the words struggle their way out of his mouth, “so … thanks … fer gettin’ it fer me. Ya didn’t have to.”

He looks like he’s just eaten soap, his ears still red, and that’s how you know he’s being sincere. Your shoulders relax a little bit.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Atsumu’s expression, almost doleful for just that moment, blooms into something more sarcastic once you accept his gratitude. He gestures at the doorway behind you. “Can I go now?”

“Dry the mirror and the counter first.”

“But I said thank you.”

You throw a towel at his face and walk away, more satisfied than not.

—

“How’s Osamu-kun doing?”

You prop your phone up against the wall behind your desk, tilting your pen between your fingers. “He’s fine, Ma.”

“Did ya tell him how good his curry is? He makes it better than me.”

“Yeah, he says he’s glad you guys like it.”

After resolving the blue shampoo issue with Atsumu on Saturday, you’d gone back to the kitchen and found Osamu chopping vegetables and tofu next to the sink. At first, you figured he was hungry again, but upon your questioning, he’d only denied it.

(“’S fer you.”

“… Fer me? No, you don’t have to –”

“Yeah, I know. Ya don’t like the curry at the cafeteria, so bring mine back to the dorm and save it in the fridge fer later. If ya don’t want it, leave it fer yer folks to eat when they get back.”)

He didn’t leave much room for debate. And since he was using your family’s food to make it anyway, you accepted, a bit perplexed but happy nonetheless. You hadn’t expected him to remember your complaint about the cafeteria’s bland curry.

The amount he made was enough to fill two Tupperware containers, one of which you left for your parents when they returned two days later. Needless to say, they were delighted.

“What a thoughtful boy. He’s so good to you, honey.”

You smile, walking back to your desk. “Yeah.”

(“Ya like dark chocolate in it, right?”)

Your mom sighs. It’s a familiar sigh, and you click your pen, knowing what she is about to say before she even takes a breath.

“I just don’t know why he hasn’t asked ya out yet.”

You can hear your dad speak up between chews in the background. “It ain’t like how it was back when we were young, dear. Soulmates these days don’t like makin’ things so formal and official.”

“Oh, I know, but wouldn’t it be sweet? I was so happy when we went on our first official date.”

“The one at the konbini ’cause I couldn’t afford anythin’ nicer?”

“Yes. I loved it.”

“I know. You were smilin’ the whole time.”

“Glad you’re still in love,” you say dryly when they giggle over the phone, your nose wrinkling when your dad comes into view to give your mom a loud smooch. During these moments, you wish you’d called instead. “I’m still here.”

“Oh, I know, I know. Honey, you should bring Osamu-kun somethin’ fer his next game! A snack fer afterwards. He’ll like that.”

“Okay.” You’ve done that before. The first time you gave him an orange in your first year of junior high, he and Atsumu squabbled over dividing it for five minutes. Now you get double portions whenever you have the compulsion to bring something after games, just to keep the peace.

“Speaking of games …”

Here we go.

“… Have ya applied to be the manager for the volleyball team yet?”

“Um.” Glancing at the wall to your right, you click your pen some more, taking your time to answer. “I filled the form out …”

“[Y/n]! If ya dawdle, someone else’ll snatch it up. When’s it due?”

“July first or until they find someone.”

“Turn it in tomorrow!”

“Okay, okay.”

Your mom sighs again, and she places a bowl down onto the table. “… Otherwise, are ya okay? I’m sorry we missed ya at home.”

“It’s fine. I hung out with Kokomi and the twins. How was yer anniversary?”

“We’ll make sure we’re home next time you’re on weekend leave. And it was lovely! Oh, honey, ya should’ve seen the fish yer pa caught …”

You talk with your parents until they finish their dinner, hanging up once they’ve started cleaning up. As soon as the video cuts out, you release a breath and turn your phone face-down.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous about applying for the manager position. It’s the natural thing to do, because it’s natural to want to be involved with something Osamu is interested in, his own opinion on the matter notwithstanding. You think you might like being a manager. It’s not like you want to do something else more.

Getting rejected by Kobayashi would be horrible, though.

Maybe you’ll wait a little longer to turn your application in. Polish it up some more, and such.

—

After volleyball practice ends, and after everyone who had lingered behind to practice some more is ready to call it a night, Atsumu tells you and Osamu that he’s staying a little longer to practice his jump float serves.

“Are ya sure? Cafeteria’s servin’ all-you-can-eat pasta for dinner.”

“I’ll be done before it closes.”

Osamu doesn’t look convinced. To be fair, neither are you; Atsumu often loses track of time when he stays behind, resulting in an extra hungry, extra irritable Atsumu.

“Atsumu,” you say.

He huffs at you. “Seriously, I will!” he insists, before turning to walk back to the end line. You, Osamu, Ginjima, Akagi, and Ojiro all look on helplessly as he throws a volleyball into the air and gives himself a running start.

“Don’t worry,” Kobayashi says, grabbing your attention just as he jumps. She holds up the key to the gymnasium. “I’ll kick him out before he misses dinner.”

Ojiro, ever the responsible one, lets out a noise of protest. “Senpai, I can lock up. You should go.”

“No, it’s fine.” Though her tone is impassive, she makes it clear that her mind is set as she waves him off. “I’m goin’ out to eat with my boyfriend later, anyway.”

You blink.

Though Ojiro is visibly reluctant, he acquiesces. “… Okay. Thank you, Kobayashi-senpai.”

“Mmhm,” Kobayashi hums, and her gaze falls upon you. “Make sure they get to the cafeteria in one piece, [L/n]-chan.”

“I will, senpai.”

You wait outside while the guys change out of their gym clothes and gather their things. Once they exit the building, you join them, listening idly to their chatter about today’s practice as the five of you trek towards the cafeteria.

“Hey, Ojiro-senpai, Akagi-senpai,” Ginjima speaks up during a lull in the conversation. “What Kobayashi-senpai said earlier …”

Attention piqued, you look at your upperclassmen for their reactions to Ginjima’s question. Next to you, Osamu does little to hide his curiosity as well.

Ojiro and Akagi, in turn, share a glance, and Ojiro raises an eyebrow at Ginjima.

“Yeah?” Ojiro replies.

“Well, y’know …” Ginjima presses expectantly, “when she said that she has a boyfriend, did she mean …?”

“That’s somethin’ you can ask Kobayashi-senpai about, ain’t it?”

You imagine doing just that and cringe.

Ginjima’s eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “Well –!” he replies, a bit too loudly. “I would, but I don’t want her to think I’m bein’ judgmental or somethin’. Plus, I’m just a first-year …”

“Aw, I think it’s fine if they know, Aran. It ain’t like she’s hidin’ it or anythin’,” Akagi says. Ojiro looks up for a moment in thought, then shrugs tentatively, and Akagi smiles at you and the two boys. “Kobayashi-senpai’s not datin’ her soulmate. They’re pretty serious, too.”

Ojiro rests his hands behind his head. “He’s a nice guy. Comes to games sometimes.”

“Oh, I see …”

You nod slowly, absorbing this new piece of information. Kobayashi has a boyfriend. A boyfriend that she goes on dates with, one she really likes. You wonder how long they’ve been together.

You wonder if Kobayashi’s met her soulmate yet.

“E-Excuse me! Hello!”

The quick patter of footsteps interrupts your train of thought. Glancing behind you, you stop short when you see one of your classmates running up to your group, waving one hand and holding a camera in the other. The golden orange of the sky burnishes her red hair.

“Naruko-san,” you and Ginjima greet at the same time. Ginjima laughs.

“Sorry to bother ya!” Naruko bows and quickly straightens, holding her camera up and smiling nervously. “I-I was just takin’ some pictures for photography club, and I was wonderin’ if you guys would mind me takin’ a picture?”

“How long’s it gonna take?” Osamu asks.

“Not too long. Five minutes? U-Unless y’all are in a hurry to get somewhere …”

“Not too much of a hurry. Just wanna make it to dinner.” Ojiro smiles, patting Osamu and Akagi’s backs. “Where do ya want us?”

Naruko brightens, her cheeks going red. “J-Just keep walkin’! The lighting’s perfect right now, and I wanna take a picture of yer backs with yer volleyball jackets on.” She glances at you, and her expression grows more nervous. “Er …”

You lock eyes with her for a few seconds before catching on. Nodding, you take a step towards Naruko to join her.

Osamu’s hand grasps your shoulder.

His hold is loose, but you bite back the urge to slump over at the sudden warmth of it, pausing instead to look back at him.

“Where’re ya goin’?”

You answer tentatively. “I don’t have a team jacket.”

“That’s fine. You’re walkin’ with us too.”

“Yeah, but …” You wet your lips. “Like, visually, it’ll look weird if one person doesn’t have one on …”

The corner of Osamu’s mouth twitches, and he frowns. You watch as his gaze moves past your shoulder. A sudden, brief twinge of irritation, not belonging to you, zings through your ribcage.

“Why’s that matter?”

“Yeah. C’mon, it’ll be fine,” Ojiro says.

“It’s okay!” Naruko suddenly blurts, and you jolt slightly, looking back at her. She bounces on her feet, voice even higher pitched. “I can do a more candid shot, now that I think about it! A-Actually, Miya-san, could ya give [L/n]-san yer jacket? And Ginjima-san, you can keep yers around yer waist …”

Her sudden change in idea perplexes you a bit. But Osamu seems to be satisfied, and he shrugs his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders.

After a bit of hesitation, you slide your arms through the sleeves.

(It’s just as warm.)

“Ooh, [L/n]-chan’s wearin’ Osamu’s jacket,” Ginjima teases behind his hand, and your face heats up.

“Okay.” Behind you, Naruko lets out a wistful-sounding sigh. “I’m ready. Y’all can start walkin’ now, just like ya were before.”

With only a bit of self-consciousness, the five of you follow her instructions. There are only a few clicks of the camera before Naruko calls out her thanks and goes off without another word, leaving you and the boys to speculate whether you’ll ever see the results.

“How cute,” Akagi comments. “She looked like she was gonna throw up, though.”

“I hope those were conflicting statements.”

“Okay, Aran, I wasn’t implying …”

While the two upperclassmen start to banter, you move to take Osamu’s jacket off, only for him to stop you.

“’S fine,” he says. “You can wear it if ya want.”

“Oh. Okay.”

And so you do.

—

The boys’ first practice game in July is brutal.

Many of your peers have come to watch. It’s a favorite after-school pastime of Inarizaki’s student populace, you’ve quickly discovered, to hop from one athletic club to the other simply to spectate and speculate. People pack the balcony and peek around the doorway, catching the scent of blood and sweat.

Between the crowd’s cheering and jeering, the squeak of sneakers on the gym floor, and the sound of palms ramming into volleyballs, the atmosphere is sharp, almost electric – something that you feel tingling on your skin as you stand on the sidelines, Kobayashi right by your side.

Atsumu delivers another devastating service ace. It ricochets off the corner of the other side of the court with a thunderous boom.

“Did you catch that, [L/n]-chan?” Kobayashi asks, arms crossed. “That was one of his better ones.”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t.”

“Hm.”

You watch the slow, satisfied stretch of Atsumu’s smile, and wait patiently. “It’s okay. He ain’t done yet.”

Indeed, Atsumu is just getting started. You spare an amused glance at Osamu in front of the net, his hands locked protectively behind his head, before turning back to Atsumu as the volleyball is thrown back to him.

Raising your camera, you adjust the focus, finger ready on the shutter button.

Toss. Run. Jump.

Click.

On your other side, a girl pumps her fists and cheers.

“Wow! Another one!” she gushes.

You smile behind your lens. “Ya always sound so impressed, Tsubaki-chan.”

“I’m just excited! We’re crushin’ them in the last set!”

“’Course we are,” says Kobayashi. “Our offense is that much better. I’m a little disappointed.”

As your upperclassman patiently points out each player’s strengths and weaknesses, you keep an eye on the team and crouch low. You’ve got plenty of photos now that the game’s nearing its end – lots of sets, a few spikes and digs, some flashy jump serves. Hopefully, some of them have turned out halfway decent. Even though you’d widened the aperture to make up for the gym’s crappy lighting and adjusted the shutter speed for blurring, you still worry about your timing.

By the time Inarizaki scores the winning point, you’ve moved to the opposite end of the court and have to race back to capture their reactions.

One thing you like about the volleyball team is how expressive they are. Joy, passion, pride – off the high of a victory, they bare everything, whether it’s through their expressions or the way they move or both.

Tsubaki says your name excitedly as soon as the teams have finished thanking each other, tugging on your arm. “Can I see the action shots, [Y/n]-chan?” she requests.

“Ah, sure.”

You turn the camera towards her, and she leans in as you scroll through the photos, her grin widening.

“Wow! Yer timin’s amazin’. They look so cool!”

The praise brings summer to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you reply genuinely. After a moment of hesitation, you lift the camera again. “Smile, Manager-san?”

Tsubaki doesn’t hesitate to broaden her already present grin, throwing up a peace sign for good measure. Kobayashi looks your way as well, and you take one shot, knowing it will be kept.

“Cute!” Tsubaki exclaims.

Two shadows loom over your shoulders as the girl bestows you with another compliment. When you turn your head to the right, your nose nearly brushes Osamu’s cheek.

“Ya got any good shots of us, [Y/n]?” Atsumu asks expectantly.

“Yes, actually, I did,” you reply, going back through the camera roll with a particular image in mind. You’re only vaguely aware of the warmth they exude as they budge into your personal space, the smell of sweat lingering on their skin. “Here.”

You’re particularly proud of this one. It had been a split second of pure luck, standing on the sidelines when a window of opportunity opened for a fast-tempo set. You had felt it – you knew Atsumu would set to Osamu, and as Osamu jumped, arm reared back as Atsumu sent the ball to him, you had captured it.

Somehow, you always get the timing right with them.

“Cool,” the twins approve proudly.

“Email that one to us, will ya?” Atsumu says. “I ain’t lettin’ you photography nerds hoard it away.”

“She’s sendin’ all these to Arata-senpai, ya dolt.”

“Hey, I wanna see!” Gintama breaks into your little group, trying to sneak a peek in. “Did ya get one of my spikes?”

“Yeah, how about my jump serve?”

“That super cool block me and Ren did in the second set!”

“Didja get one of Coach?”

One by one, the team gathers around you, eager for a glimpse of their successes. The crowding is uncomfortable, but you try your best to show them what you can anyway, feeling a rare sense of pride about your own accomplishments.

You’re happy with your choice.

Tsubaki will be a great manager. Even when you first met her, you knew she had everything she'd need for the job – a passion for the sport, a desire to help others succeed, and an endless amount of perseverance. Inarizaki couldn’t ask for a better person to replace Kobayashi next year. She’ll do well in what she’s decided to do.

And so will you.

—

#haikyuu #hq #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #miya atsumu x reader x miya osamu #haikyuu fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #soulmate au #yeah i got carried away LOL #the miya twins giving themselves terrible dye jobs lives rent free in my head #atsumu's especially. i KNOW they screwed up with his #that color looks way too close to a bleach gone wrong on black hair and he just made it his brand for the rest of high school #this is spiraling i am spiraling #kobayashi i'll miss you i loved thinking you up #the five nonsenses

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